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yet, remember? I was out when he came into the shop, and you didn't exactly introduce us on Saturday. You were too busy staring back." Mabel winked. "And besides, I'm an old romantic at heart. As long as a man listens and is interested in what you say, his appearance isn't all that important."
    "You didn't think he was good-looking?"
    "Oh, you know me-I'm more partial to the guys who come in looking for Andrea. I think tattoos that cover the arms are sexy."
    Julie laughed. "Don't let Andrea hear you say that. She might get offended."
    "No, she won't. Unless I drew pictures, she wouldn't know who we were talking about."
    Just then, the door swung open and a woman stepped in. Julie's first appointment for the day. Mabel's appointment, another woman, followed her a moment later.
    "So . . . are you going to go out with him again?" Mabel asked.
    "I don't know if he'll ask, but I probably would."
    "Do you want him to?"
    "Yeah," she admitted, "I think I do."
    Mabel's eyes twinkled. "Well . . . what's your sweetie Bob going to say? He'll be heartbroken."
    "If he calls again, maybe I'll just tell him you're interested."
    "Oh, please do-I need some help with my taxes. Unfortunately, though, he might think I'm a little too adventurous for him." She paused. "So how'd Mike take it?"
    From her seat by the window, Mabel had seen them talking.
    Julie shrugged. She'd known Mabel would ask. "Okay."
    "He's a good guy, you know."
    "Yeah, he is."
    Mabel didn't press any further, knowing it wouldn't do any good. She'd already tried a few times without results. But, in her mind, it was a shame that things hadn't worked out between them so far. Mike and Julie, she thought, would make a good couple. And despite what either of them imagined, she was sure that Jim wouldn't have minded at all.
    She should know. After all, she was his aunt.
    As the morning sun fed an early-season heat wave, Mike's wrench got stuck on a bolt in the inner reaches of the engine. Struggling to free it, he pulled a little too hard, nicking the back of his hand. After disinfecting the wound and putting on a bandage, he tried to free the wrench a second time with exactly the same result. Cursing to himself, he pushed away from the car in frustration and stared at it, his expression cold, as if trying to intimidate the car into doing what he wanted. All morning long he'd made one stupid mistake after another on a repair that was second nature to him, and now he couldn't even get the stupid wrench free. Not that it was entirely his fault, of course. If anything, Mike thought, it was Julie's fault. How was he supposed to concentrate on his work when he couldn't stop thinking about her date with Richard?Her nice date. Her fun date.
    What, he wondered, had been so nice about it? And what had she meant by fun?
    Only one way to find out, he knew, though he dreaded the very thought of it. But what other choice did he have? It wasn't as if Julie had been all that forthcoming with him, and he couldn't exactly head over to the salon and ask Mabel in person, not with Julie standing right there. That left Henry as his only option.
    Henry, the good, kind, older brother.
    Yeah, right, Mike thought.
    Henry could have told him earlier, but nooooo, he had to set him up. Henry knew exactly what he was doing when he left the conversation hanging like that. He wanted Mike to come begging for information. To come crawling. To toss a few zingers.
    Yeah, well, not this time, pal, Mike decided. Not this time.
    Mike approached the car again and began working his hand toward the wrench. Still stuck. Looking over his shoulder, he wondered if using a screwdriver would give him the leverage he needed to pry the wrench free. Deciding to give it a try, he reached in, but just when he had it where it needed to be, he heard Julie's voice again and the screwdriver slipped from his grip.
    It was nice, Julie had said. We had fun.
    As he reached for the screwdriver, it slid further, rattling downward like a Pachinko