Good advice. His mom was pretty smart.

He pulled into the lot, Molly right behind him, taking the spot next to his. Though they’d fixed George’s immediate problems, he still didn’t like the way the car sounded.

“You’re frowning,” she said as she got out.

“George shudders. Coughs. Sounds like he’s in death throes.”

“He’s old. Cut him some slack.” She pocketed her keys and started into the restaurant, giving him no choice but to follow. He gave George a long look, but the car didn’t make any more sounds, so he headed inside.

It was late, and the restaurant was nearly empty, which meant they had their pick of seats. Molly chose a booth near the wall, and he slid in across from her.

Heather Stanford headed over, pulling her order pad out of her pocket.

“Hi, Heather.”

“Hi, Carter.” Heather gave Molly a look. “New girlfriend?”

He laughed. “This is Emma Burnett’s—I guess she’s Emma McCormack now. I have to get used to that. Anyway, this is Dr. Emma’s sister, Molly.”

Heather’s eyes widened. “Oh. Hi. I’m Heather. I have a pug named Cicero. I take him to see Dr. Emma all the time. Well, my parents and I take him, anyway. I go to Hope High School.”

“Nice to meet you, Heather,” Molly said.

“You’re the sister who lives out of town.”

“Yes.”

“You must have hung around because Mrs. Burnett got hurt. How’s she doing? We sure miss seeing her here at Bert’s.”

“She’s doing a lot better. Thanks for asking.”

“You be sure to tell her I said hey.”

“I will.”

“What would you all like to drink?”

“I’ll just have water,” Molly said.

“I’ll have a Diet Coke,” Carter said, then picked up the menu when Heather hustled away to get their drinks.

Molly studied the menu.

“So about the whole ‘girlfriend’ thing,” he said.

She looked up from the menu. “What?”

“Heather asked if you were my girlfriend.”

“Oh, that. Typical teenager. They think any man/woman combination is automatically a couple. I didn’t think anything of it. Don’t worry about it.”

She went back to studying the menu, while he worried she’d been offended he hadn’t automatically acknowledged her as his girlfriend.

Women were confusing. A lot of women he’d dated would have had their feelings hurt. Molly hadn’t.

Maybe because she didn’t think of them as a couple. Or in a relationship. Or whatever people called it these days. He had no idea.

When Heather came back, he gave her his order, and Molly decided to have a cup of soup, which made him feel better, since he didn’t want to be the only one eating.

“How are things going at work?” Molly asked.

“Good, actually. I have an interview next week with a body guy. I’m hoping he might be the one.”

She arched a brow. “Body guy?”

“Someone to do bodywork on the cars. We’ve gone through several in the shop here in town, with no luck. It’s hard to find a guy who’s good with his hands.”

Her lips quirked. “Indeed, it is.”

He laughed. “Anyway, I’ve heard this guy has good skills, so I’m hopeful. I’m tired of searching—and replacing.”

She nodded, then paused while Heather delivered their food. She took a spoonful of her soup, then a sip of water.

“I know how it is to have to hire good employees,” Molly said. “I’ve been in that position several times over the years when I’ve been put in charge of hiring at some of the places I’ve worked. It’s never a fun job.”

He bit into his cheeseburger, then popped a couple of fries into his mouth, washing them down with his pop. “It’s my least favorite part of the job. Unfortunately, it’s a necessary evil to keep things running smoothly. If it were up to me, I’d be out there with my head in an engine.”

“The price of growth, I’m afraid.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You have—what—four shops now? Maybe you should hire a business manager to do all that paperwork and hiring and firing for you.”

“And then what would I do? Play golf?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so. I know the kind of talent required to do all the jobs necessary for the shops. A business manager might know the numbers and paperwork part of the job—and believe me, that takes up a lot of my time—but no one knows the inner workings of a car better than I do—or hiring the right kind of talent to get the job done.”

Molly leaned back and wiped her lips with her napkin. “You’re so confident in what you do.”

“I know my job and what it takes to get it done.”

“And you love your work.”

He smiled. “Most days.”

“Describe your best day to me.”

“What is this, an interview?”

“No. Just tell me what you would consider a perfect day.”

“First, everyone shows up for work. The bays in every shop are filled. There’s no goddamn paperwork on my desk, so I have time to visit all four locations and see that all the operations are running like well-oiled machines. I end up at the shop in Hope, where I have a few minutes to roll up my sleeves and stick my head in a tranny rebuild, or maybe work with the body guy on some cool new paint scheme before quitting time.”