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back into the city soon if I want to get there before the bookstore closes.
    "So," Liam says from under a car hood, "what's her name?"
    Sighing, I think to myself, there is no reason not to tell him. It's not like she actually means anything to me.
    "Marin." I wipe my hands on the dirty cloth sitting on the work table. "She owns the bookstore on Fifteenth. I ran into her yesterday and helped her out with something so she's going to help me find a book or two to brush up on my business skills since I need to know more than fixing cars to take over this place."
    He looks at me out of the corner of his eye from underneath the hood. "And what exactly did you help her out with?"
    I know exactly what he's thinking. It's either I hooked her up with drugs or sex. But that's not me. Not anymore. Or at least, I don't want it to be.
    "Dude, come on. You know better than that."
    "Do I?" He continues to work on the car. "I know your history is what I know."
    "Yeah, well, I'm not denying that. But I'm trying to be better. I have been doing good. Staying out of trouble so give me a damn break. It was just a girl that needed help with something, and I just happened to be the only one around so I helped her out." I don't feel like explaining anything else to him. It's none of his business anyway. He's my employee, not my father.
    "I'm heading out, Liam. Can you please call Mrs. Rogers and leave her a message that her car is done?"
    "Yeah, OK." He starts to say something, else but I don't hear him because I'm already out the door and heading up the stairs to my apartment to clean up.

    ******

    Finishing up in the shower and throwing an old towel around my waist and walk out into the open area of my apartment. This place isn't much but it's a reliable roof over my head and that's all that matters, I guess.
    I pull out a long-sleeve t-shirt, a pair of jeans and socks from the plastic tub that holds my clothes beside my bed. Underwear aren't always a necessity, though.
    As I'm finishing up, there's a knock at my door. I look out and see Uncle Mel standing there. I wish he wouldn't climb these steps. He could have called from downstairs, and I would have met him down there.
    He knocks on the door again, and I quickly make my way over to it. I hope whatever he wants is quick.
    "Hey, Uncle Mel. Why didn't you call me from downstairs?"
    He waves his hand to tell me that's nonsense. "Boy, I've been climbing stairs longer than you have been living."
    "Well, get in here." I close the door behind him and he flops down on my old raggedy recliner. "What's up?"
    He looks me up and down with a skeptical eye. "Where you headed all fancied up?"
    "I am meeting someone about … something." I'm not sure how to answer him. I really don't want him in my personal business but I know exactly what he's thinking.
    "I sure as shit hope you aren't meeting J.R."
    "Why would you think that?" Although, I know the answer. I know I haven’t gained his trust yet, and he’s terrified I will end up back under J.R.’s spell that promises money and everything I could ever want.
    "Because you never seem to be able to stay away from those troublemaking assholes!" He stands back up and walks over to where I'm standing. "Listen, I'm sorry. But Sonny stopped by the house today looking for you. He said J.R. had a job for you, and I just wanted to make sure you didn't take him up on any of his ridiculous offers."
    I run my hand through my hair and let out a deep breath. "I had no idea they stopped by. I seriously haven't heard from them. I'm not meeting up with any of them. I'm actually meeting a girl." I see his smile grow. "About a book." Now he looks at me confused.
    "You read?" He smirks and leans on his metal, drugstore cane.
    "Ha ha. Very funny, old man." I rehash the story from this morning to him and what I'm trying to accomplish, and it makes me happy to see the proud gleam in his eyes. I think he may actually start trusting me soon.
    I grab my old leather jacket off the