Page 107 of Structure of Love

“Deal.” She gleefully rubbed her hands together. “I’m so excited. I hope she’s telling the truth and there’s nothing mechanically wrong with it.”

“Me too.” I could see the VIN number on the windshield and quickly checked the Carfax online.

A new Volvo, similar to this one, pulled in next to us. A woman with a messy bun, yoga pants, and a shirt that had seen better days hopped out, giving us a bright smile.

“Hi! I’m Emma, I’m the owner of the car.”

I extended a hand. “Logan. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Hi, I’m Erin. I’ll actually be buying the car. You said there’s a smell?”

“It’s horrendous.” Emma looked both mad and resigned. “Here, let me open the car, you can smell it yourself.”

Did I want to…?

But did I have any other choice? I had to see what we were working with.

After the first inch of the car door being opened, I got a whiff and almost gagged. Fuck! This car had been professionally cleaned twice?! Bullshit, no way. I looked at Erin, and whileher nose was wrinkled, her determination didn’t seem to be wavering. Still thought she could fix it, huh?

Personally, I thought replacing the interior of the car was the only way to go.

“What happened?” Erin asked. “This isbad.”

Emma sounded like she’d repeated this story about a dozen times. She likely had. “So, I’ve had this car for years. It was my present to myself after landing my first job, and after that I got married, had two kids. About two months ago, I flew out to see my parents with the kids. My husband stayed behind, as he had a bachelor’s night to attend with one of his best friends.”

I had a foreboding feeling I knew where this was going.

“And for some reason, he didn’t take his truck, but instead took my car.” Emma rolled her eyes to the heavens. I didn’t know if she was praying for patience or a lightning strike, but she was super done. “He was the designated driver for the night, or one of them. So they party, they drink, the usual. Three of his friends load up in my car, and he starts dropping people off. Only, one of them gets sick and throws up all over the passenger floorboard. The smell was bad enough it hit everyone else’s gag reflexes, according to my husband, and all four of them ended up throwing up. All. Over. My. Car.”

Yup, knew it was coming. Seen too many bachelor parties.

“Then”—Emma sadly wasn’t done—“he parks the car in the driveway and just ignores it. This car sat there, in the blazing hot sun, forthree goddamn dayswithout him even attempting to clean it out.”

I winced. “For fuck’s sake! What was he waiting on, you to come home and clean it?”

“Nailed it.”

What the shit, seriously?! What was wrong with him? I’d never do that!

“When I came home and found my car messed up, I was beyond livid. I threw him out of the house and told him he didn’t get to live with me again until the car sold. So he’s done everything he can think of to get back in my good graces. He’s bought me a new car”—Emma waved to the new Volvo—“he’s paid for professional cleaners, he’s groveled, but I’m not budging on this. He’s not allowed back until this car is sold.”

Seemed a good life lesson to me. Why a man of his age needed to learn to clean up after himself, I didn’t get, but she was the one married to him, not me.

“I will drop the price,” Emma offered desperately. “Oh! And I have the Carfax, to prove the car’s fine, but it’s this stench. No one can seem to overcome it.”

“I’d love to see that Carfax.”

Sensing genuine interest, she lit up with a smile. “Sure! Hang on.”

Erin leaned into my side and whispered, “I still think I can get this smell out.”

“If we can drop the price enough, I’m willing to let you try. If your way doesn’t work, my plan kicks in.”

She did a little booty dance. She liked this car that much?

Although how we were going to get it back to my house when it smelled this bad, I did not know. I wasn’t driving it, that was for damn sure.