The starter engaged.
The 5.7-liter V10 caught.
The garage changed instantly.
The sound was enormous.
Mechanical.
Sharp.
Alive.
Victoria's eyes widened.
Daniel watched the instrument cluster.
Stable.
No fault.
Idle clean.
He waited.
Thirty seconds.
One minute.
Temperature rising.
Still clean.
Victoria looked at him.
“You fixed it.”
“Maybe.”
She laughed.
“No. Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Destroy the moment.”
“We test hot.”
“It’s running.”
“It ran yesterday.”
“Then died.”
“Exactly.”
She crossed her arms.
“How long?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“I have waited all night.”
“So you’re experienced.”
She looked at him.
“Do you enjoy irritating people?”
“Only the ones who arrive in two-million-dollar cars.”
“Three, depending on auction.”
Daniel stared.
“That was not information I needed.”
“You looked like you needed context.”
“No. Now I’m angry at the car.”
She laughed again.
The V10 warmed.
Ten minutes.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
No failure.
Daniel revved lightly.
Clean.
He switched it off.
Waited.
Restarted.
Immediate.
Victoria's face softened.
Not the confident smile she had worn most of the night.
Something younger.
Relieved.
She reached out and wrapped one hand around his dirty forearm.
“Thank you.”
Daniel looked at her fingers.
Elegant nails.
Expensive watch.
Grease transferred instantly onto her skin.
She noticed.
Did not release him.
Daniel looked back at her.
Their faces were closer than before.
Her eyes dropped briefly toward his mouth.
That was not subtle.
His body noticed before his judgment did.
Daniel had been widowed five years.
There had been dates since.
Not many.
None had mattered.
He knew attraction.
He had simply forgotten it could arrive this suddenly and feel this inconvenient.
Victoria looked at him.
“Now,” she said quietly, “how much?”
“For what?”
She gestured toward the Porsche.
“The miracle.”
“Not a miracle.”
“How much?”
“I haven’t written the invoice.”
“Estimate.”
“One hundred thirty-eight.”
Victoria stared.
Daniel nodded.
“Probably.”
“For the night?”
“No.”
“For the repair?”
“Yes.”
She laughed.
He did not.
The laugh stopped.
“You’re serious.”
“Terminal, connector service, diagnostics.”
“You spent almost eight hours on it.”