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Evelyn stared at the open spreadsheet of soil quality data on her computer screen, but none of the numbers made sense. It wasn’t the information that was the problem. The rows and columns blurred together, her eyes sliding over them without absorbing anything. She blinked, shook her head, and tried again. Still nothing. Her fingers hovered uselessly over the keyboard before she let out a frustrated sigh and slumped back in her chair. She hadn’t slept well. Not only because of Jo, but also everything else. The job offer. The deadline to decide. The fact that she still hadn’t told Jo, and time was running out. Her phone buzzed on the desk, lighting up with a new text from Jasmine. “So… you told her yet?” Evelyn didn’t answer. A second later. “Don’t make me come down there and drag it out of you.” Evelyn huffed but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. Another text from her sister arrived. “Seriously, Evie. You promised. You said you’d tell her last night.”

Evelyn’s stomach twisted. She picked up the phone, gathering her thoughts for a moment, then typed a reply. “I know. I couldn’t. Not yet. Last night was so incredibly…” She paused, then erased the last part and left it at, “I couldn’t.”

“You’re running out of time,” Jasmine shot back. Evelyn could almost read the frustration in the words as the follow-up text came through. “You said the deadline was Wednesday.”

“I know,” was all Evelyn could reply. “But I will.” Evelyn locked the screen and set the phone face down, pressing her palms against her eyes. She still felt Jo’s arms wrapped around her from the night before, the way her voice had gone quiet when she admitted how scared she was about the garage. Evelyn had held her, kissed her, and promised they would figure it out together.And now here I am,she thought.Sitting in my office, keeping a secret that could change everything. A soft knock at the door made her jump.

Looking, she straightened her posture as Dr. Wong stepped into the room, her expression as unreadable as always. “Evelyn,” she said. “Do you have a minute?”

Nodding, Evelyn forced a small smile. “Of course.”

Dr. Wong stepped inside and closed the door behind her. “I wanted to check in before tomorrow’s deadline,” she said, folding her hands in front of her. “Have you made a decision about the promotion?”

Evelyn swallowed. “I’m still thinking about it,” she answered, and Dr. Wong arched an eyebrow.

“Evelyn, I understand this is a big change,” she said. “But we need a firm answer by tomorrow morning. The board is already moving forward with budget approvals and personnel planning.”

“I know,” Evelyn said quietly. “I need a little more time.”

Titling her head, Dr. Wong studied her. “You’ve worked hard for this,” she said, more gently than Evelyn had ever heard her speak before. “You’re the most qualified candidate. I don’t want to pressure you, but I also don’t want to see you let fear talk you out of something you’ve earned.”

The words landed like a stone in Evelyn’s stomach.Fear?she wondered.Is that really what this is?She opened her mouth to respond, but something inside her twisted sharply. Guilt, maybe, or nerves, or both, and she blurted, “I have a headache.”

“A headache?” Dr. Wong asked. “Now?”

“I’m sorry,” Evelyn said, standing a little too quickly. “I’m not feeling great. I think I need to take the rest of the day off.”

Dr. Wong hesitated, then nodded. “All right,” she said. “But I’ll need your decision first thing tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Evelyn said, already gathering her bag. “Thank you.” She didn’t wait for a reply as she slipped past her boss and out the door, her heart pounding. By the time she made it to the parking lot, she already had her phone in hand, her fingers moving before she could second-guess herself. She pulled Jo’s contact to send her a text. “Are you at the garage this afternoon? I’d love to stop by and see how the brainstorming is going.” The message sent, Evelyn slipped into her car and gripped the steering wheel tightly. She didn’t know what she was going to say. She only knew she needed to see Jo.

Jo was elbow-deep in the guts of a 2004 Subaru Outback, her hands slick with grease and her patience wearing thin. The damn alternator bolt was rusted solid, and she worried she would strip it more if she wasn’t careful. “Come on, you stubborn bastard,” she muttered, bracing her boot against the front bumper as she leaned in and yanked. It didn’t budge.

“Okay, I vote we torch it,” Mica said from the other side of the car, where she was pretending to “supervise” with a half-empty bottle of orange soda in hand. “Or we roll the whole thing into the Willamette and never speak of it again.”

Grunting in response, Jo gave the bolt another tug. Nothing. “God, I hate Subarus,” she said, setting the wrench aside.

“You love Subarus,” Mica said. “You just hate this one.”

Wiping her hands on a rag, Jo leaned back, stretching her arms overhead until her shoulders cracked. “Well, I’ll get it eventually,” she said. “I can’t afford to turn away business right now.”

Mica grinned. “Any new brilliant ideas on how we’re going to save the shop from financial ruin?” she asked, and Jo snorted a derisive laugh.

“You mean besides selling my organs on the black market?”

“Hey, not a bad idea,” Mica said, before raising a finger like she was revealing a secret. “Or… now hear me out… we stage a heist.” She waved the soda bottle excitedly.Very ‘Fast & FuriousmeetsPortlandia. Steal back your own stuff from the pawn shops.”

Jo snorted a laugh. “You’d be the first one to trip the alarm.”

“Wow. Hurtful.”

At the playful words, Jo shook her head, but the smile was real. They had been tossing around ideas all morning, most of them ridiculous. So far, starting a YouTube channel called Grease & Grit was the best sounding idea, but since they knew nothing about YouTube, it seemed unlikely to work fast enough. Overall, nothing stuck. Nothing felt like it would actually work. Jo’s gaze drifted toward the far corner of the garage, where the Mustang sat under its usual tarp, the cherry-red paint barely visible beneath the folds.

Clearly following her gaze, Mica let out a whistle. “Are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

Hating the idea, Jo didn’t answer right away. “It’d go for a lot,” she said finally. “Even unfinished.”

“Yeah,” Mica said. “But it’d hurt.”