Water immediately soaked through his jeans. Cold, filthy water that probably had a decade's worth of road grime in it. Perfect. You don't have to do this, Vivien said above him. Little late for that, he aimed the flashlight at the fuel pump.
Besides, can't let a classic die on the side of the road. It's practically criminal. You restore cars when I can afford to. He found the problem. Loose connection on the fuel pump relay.
Probably vibrated free. Simple fix. Mostly, I keep other people's cars running long enough that they can afford the real repairs. That's depressing. Ethan laughed, surprised.
Yeah, it really is. He tightened the connection with his fingers, testing it twice to make sure it held. The rain was relentless, turning the ground beneath him into a shallow stream, but Vivien kept the umbrella steady. Her heels were probably ruined. He'd have felt bad about it if she'd seemed like the type to care.
"Try starting it now," he called out. She hesitated. He felt it more than saw it. Then moved toward the driver's seat. A moment later, the engine turned over, coughed once, then caught, purring like it had never stopped.
Ethan slid out from under the car and stood, wiping mud from his hands onto his jeans. Vivien was staring at the dashboard like she didn't quite believe it. How did you? She looked up at him, genuinely confused. The tow company said I'd need to have it transported to a shop.
Yeah, because they get paid more that way. He closed the hood, latching it carefully. It was just a loose relay. Happens with older cars, especially British ones. They like to keep you guessing.
Viven stepped out of the car, umbrella still in hand, and for a long moment, she just looked at him. Rain dripped from his hair, his shirt was plastered to his chest, and he was pretty sure there was mud on his face. "What do I owe you? " she asked. "Nothing. " "That's not I was driving past. Took me 5 minutes. " Ethan shrugged, suddenly aware of how cold he was.
"Just pay it forward next time you see someone stuck. " Her eyes narrowed slightly, like she was trying to figure out the catch. "People didn't do things for free in her world," he guessed. "Everything had a price tag. " "Thank you," she said finally, and it sounded like the words didn't come easily. "Really? I was about to walk back to the main road.
In those shoes, you'd have made it maybe 10 ft. That almost smile again. Probably thunder rolled overhead and Ethan realized he was standing in the middle of a storm soaking wet with a stranger who drove a car worth more than his entire shop. And he was late. Very late.