Gail Sattler - His Uptown Girl

“Tell me, Georgette, does anyone else know? Besides me?”

Her breath caught in her throat. “I don’t know,” she muttered, at least she hoped and prayed no one knew. That Tyler knew was not in her favor.

He leaned forward toward her, over the table. “I could help you keep your secret.”

Her heart began to pound. She didn’t trust Tyler, but he had her between a rock and a hard place. Perhaps graciousness on her part would evoke a similar response. “Could you? I’d really appreciate that.” She wondered nervously what he would ask for in return. She had nothing to offer. To offer money would be an insult. Any work he would ever need done to his car was best done by the dealership where he bought it.

“But in return, there’s something you can do for me.”

Here it was. She leaned closer to Tyler. “What do you have in mind?”

Tyler sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I need to attend a number of functions, and it doesn’t look good for me to go alone. I need you there as my companion. Your father would be pleased to see us together, you know, in the past, he’s encouraged me to spend time with you.”

Georgette forced herself to breathe. Tyler came from old money, but that wasn’t enough for Tyler. He was ambitious, which shouldn’t have been bad, except that like her father, Tyler didn’t care who he stepped on.

“I don’t know…” she let her voice trail off, trying to give herself more time to think.

Tyler tipped his head to one side. “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours.”

Maybe to him, it was back-scratching. To Georgette, it sounded an awful lot like extortion.

But until she could figure out a way to approach her father, she didn’t have any choice. By not dealing with the problem sooner, she had set herself up to become an easy victim.

“I can’t believe that you, of all people, would be unable to find a date. I’m sure there are any number of women who want to go out with you.”

“Maybe. But it looks better if I go to these things with the same person. It gives me a reputation for stability and maturity.”

Georgette’s blood boiled. What Tyler looked like on the outside to strangers was more important to him than anything.

Bob would never have behaved in such a manner. Even though Bob wasn’t in the upper echelons of the corporate world, he was still a successful business owner. He was a good Christian man, and he made an income he was comfortable with. His entire business was built on one thing. Doing honest work in order to satisfy his customers.

The only one Tyler wanted to satisfy was himself, no matter what the cost.

“How many times? Does today count?”

“Today we’re negotiating. Does this mean you agree?”

For now, Georgette didn’t have a choice. Soon she would find an appropriate time to tell her father, on her own terms, but until the time was right, she would have to put up with Tyler.

“I agree,” she muttered, then pushed the plate containing her half-eaten meal slightly forward on the tabletop. “Do you mind if we leave? I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”

Tyler signaled the waiter for the bill, but continued eating. “Great. Today is Monday. I’ve got to go to a wild-life fund-raiser on Wednesday. I’ll pick you up at five-thirty. It’s a dinner engagement. Dress appropriately.”

Georgette pushed a little more sawdust over the spill with the toe of her workboot. “It should be absorbed by tomorrow,” she mumbled to Bart, who reached out to run his finger along the seal of the leaky oil filter of the car on the hoist above them.

Bob appeared beside her. “Did you find out what’s wrong?”

Georgette nodded. “I don’t know where she went to change the oil, and I don’t know how they could have done it, but the O-ring was twisted and it wrecked the seal. That’s what’s been causing the leak.”

Bart looked up and watched as another drop leaked out. “Mrs. Jablonski is going to be happy. She was so afraid of what it would cost to fix, she’s just been adding more oil instead of bringing it in. The only reason she finally came was because her neighbors were complaining about the growing puddle on the street.” All we have to charge her for is changing the filter.”

“You mean you’re not even going to charge her for the full oil-change package?” Her father’s mechanic charged a service fee just to look at any vehicle, then took the money off the cost of the repair later. However, if nothing was done, they kept the money for their time, which was only fair.

“Naw. It took under a minute to see what the problem was. Besides, we never charge for estimates.”

“But how are you going to make money on this, then?”

“Mrs. Jablonski is living on a pension. We’ll get back our time in the markup on the new filter we’re going to give her, so it’s not like we’re losing anything. The only reason she brought it here is because my mother told her I would look at it and fix it for a fair price. I’m not doing it for free. I’m just being reasonable.”

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