Red Truck Rendezvous

you think you can help me?” Portia’s brows furrowed as she met the man’s coffee-colored eyes. He was about two inches taller than she was, and his sun-darkened skin, with that inky black hair, made him quite dashing. “I’m afraid Sweetie is going to need a complete rebuild.”
Pablo tipped his head, his dark eyes confused. “Sweetie?”
“That’s my truck,” Portia reached a hand behind her, giving the old Ford a pat. “I know I shouldn’t have tried this trip yet, but I didn’t want to wait. I’ve been dreaming of a lakeside summer for years. Now, can you fix my truck or not?”
“I don’t know,” Pablo admitted honestly. “I’d need to get it up on the rack and have a look. Even if it isn’t serious, I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to get parts, and if I do, they won’t be cheap.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” the woman waved her elegant hand under his nose as if brushing at a gnat, “money is no object.”
Pablo’s eyes grew wide, studying the woman before him. She was dressed casually, but in the finest of casual fare, and she wore it well. “Do you want me to do a complete rebuild on this old truck or just patch it up?”
Portia turned, examining the truck. “It really should be rebuilt.” Another bright smile knocked out the sun. “When can you start? Can you help me unhook the trailer and find a place to set it up?” Portia gazed around the mostly dirt lot and sniffed. “Can I stay here for a few days while you get the truck fixed?”
The sharp bark of laughter escaped the mechanic before he could stop it and only grew louder at the harsh look the woman shot back at him, making his smile flash even brighter.
“Did I say something funny?” Her rigid stance and crossed arms told Pablo that she was getting mad.
“Only that you think this truck can be fixed in a couple of days.”
“Oh,” Miss Pretty nibbled a pink nail and frowned. “Well, I can’t stay here indefinitely without hookups. I was headed to one of the state parks, but there’s no way I’ll make it now.” She cast a look back at the old truck, frowning at the acrid smell of burnt rubber.
Pablo ran a hand through his dark waves of hair and sighed. “I’ll tell you what, first let me get this truck backed down the hill and then we’ll get your trailer unhooked. After that, I’ll get the truck into the garage, and on the lift, so we can see what we’re looking at. When I’m done with that, we’ll figure out what to do next.”
“That sounds like a fair start, but where am I supposed to be all this time? I can’t hang out in the trailer all day without power or water?”
“One step at a time,” Pablo insisted, raising a grease-stained hand. “I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”
“Pablo, I’m heading home.” Anita walked out of the garage, stopping when she saw her brother talking to a tall woman, with supermodel good looks. “Oh, sorry,” she grinned, hurrying his direction. “I didn’t know you had company.”
“Anita, this is Portia Princeton, and she’s having some car issues.”
“Then you came to the right place,” Anita said, studying the strange arrangement of the truck and trailer. “My brother can fix anything.”
Pablo shook his head as Anita introduced herself, taking far too much interest in the woman. “Your trailer is adorable,” Nita gushed. “Where are you headed?”
“Nowhere for the moment, I’m afraid. Old Sweetie here just couldn’t go on.” Portia turned back to study the truck, whose nose aimed skyward as it sat at a crooked angle on the barn bridge.
“That’s too bad, but I’m sure Pablo will get you fixed up soon. He is the best mechanic in the area. In the meantime, my sister-in-law's bed and breakfast is just up the road. They have a few RV spots there if you’d like to stay. I’m sure once Pablo has a look at your truck, he could tow you over. Isn’t that right, Pablo?”
Pablo cut his little sister a hard glare but nodded. “I was going to suggest that once we got this thing safely pulled apart.” His dark eyes flashed at his sister, stealing his thunder. “Nita, why don’t you head home? You can check with Jamie and Carlos to see if they have a spot for the trailer and give me a call? In the meantime, we’d better get this mess taken care of.”
Turning his back on his sister, Pablo rubbed his chin, trying to think of the best way to get the truck and trailer backed safely off the low hill.

Chapter 3
It took nearly half an hour to get the truck backed off the slope of the barn bridge and safely into the garage.
Worried about Sweetie’s overheated brakes giving out, Pablo had to use the winch on his ’04 Chevy Tahoe to anchor the truck while Portia backed it onto more even ground.
Frankly, he had been surprised that the truck had started up again, and the clouds of white smoke billowing from the tailpipe did little to fill him with confidence, but in the end, it was up on the lift, dripping oil and radiator fluid all over his hard-packed floor.
“What do you think?” Portia asked for the tenth time as she nibbled a nail, peering up at the undercarriage of her truck. “Can you fix it? How bad is it? When can I be back on the road?”
Pablo sighed, walking out from under the old truck and dabbing at a spot of motor oil on his cheek. “I’m only halfway through inspecting it,” he said. “You need to give me time. I’ll be honest, though, it looks like you’re in for a full rebuild.”
Portia placed her hands on her hips and scowled. “How long will it take? I’ll pay extra for you to hurry.”
“It’s isn’t just about the expense.” Pablo felt like rolling his eyes but restrained himself. “I