Page 111 of A Real Goode Time

“Nah. More personal stuff.”

Rog—same height as me but beefy, burly, and black, with an easy smile and thick, scarred hands—nodded. “Well, what I got to say may help, may not.”

I moved to sit on a tire, wiped at my forehead with the back of my wrist. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’ve had good business lately, real good. And I’m findin’ myself thinking about expanding.”

My heart did a weird flip. “Yeah, I’ve been…streamlining a bit, taking on fewer clients, I guess.”

“Well, I can’t really expand my current setup. And I was wonderin’, maybe it’s a long shot, but I was wonderin’ if you were willin’ to sell.”

“Sell?” I gazed around. “I…”

I stood up. I’d taken on no long-term jobs since I’d left Alaska. I’d reduced my hours on Jeremy’s crew, and stayed on the finishing end of things. I had completed my realtor classes, but hadn’t applied for a license in the state of Connecticut. I could, without this place and this business, pick up and start over…in Ketchikan.

It would be heading off into the unknown. Off plan. No assurance that I could start my business over, up there. No assurance that things with Torie and me would pan out as I hoped. No assurances, period. But maybe it was time to go off plan.

Out of the blue, I had an offer on this place.

“I’d give you what you paid for it, plus ten percent.”

Shit—that was a sweet offer.

“I can’t sell everything,” I said. “I’d need the tools and some of the equipment, some select parts from the salvage.”

Rog got up off the tire he was sitting on, leaving his beer on the floor. “Tell you what—I got an old enclosed hauler I don’t need no more. It’d hook up to your old Ford there nice and easy. I’ll give you that as part of the sale. Pack up whatever you need, leave what you can’t take, or don’t want to haul. If you got clients on the hook, I’ll take ’em—we both know I’m pretty well-known around here.”

“So you’re offering what I paid plus ten percent, the trailer, all my tools, and my pick of salvage?” I hesitated. “Is the trailer gonna fall apart before I get where I’m going?”

He laughed. “Nah, man, it’s good. I’ve taken care of it. I brought my shop up here from Virginia in that thing. It’s got some miles on it all right, but it’ll hold.”

I sighed. “It’s a sweet deal, man, that’s for sure. I just…I’ve put so fuckin’ much work into building this business.”

He nodded. “I don’t offer lightly. You do good work, and I got a lot of respect for you.” He eyed me. “You goin’ after a woman?”

I nodded. “How’d you know?”

“You got the look.” He grinned. “A man says personal problems, that means it’s a woman, and you look lovesick, my friend.”

I nodded again. “You got it in one.” I sighed, because it was not really even a decision. I held out my hand. “Deal.”

He grinned wider, handed me a cigar and a clipper, and we lit up. Cracked open the beers, and clinked. “To big engines and good women.”

I laughed, feeling lighter, now. “Big engines andamazingwomen.”

We sipped, and he jerked his chin at me. “So. Where you headed?”

“Ketchikan, Alaska.”

“What’s her name?”

“Torie. Victoria Goode.”

“So when I said good women, I was more right than I knew?”

I cackled at that. “Damn, dude, I hadn’t thought about that, but yeah.” I sighed. “Man, now that we’ve got a deal, I feel better. I been trying to figure it out for two damn months, and you come along and fix it for me in one evening.”

“Part of me wishes we could go into business together. I’d love to get into a big ol’ V-8 with you, sometime. But, my old lady and I got a kid in middle school and another in elementary, and this deal is gonna help me put ’em in new school clothes. I got more jobs lined up than I can take on my own, and my cousin is gonna move up and start workin’ for me.”