It turned out to be not one hot mechanic, but two.
The class was taught outside the Ginter Park Recreation Center, and when Lori pulled into the lot, hers was one of only three cars. The others were parked together at the far end, a hard-body Jeep and an F-150 pickup truck. The pickup’s tailgate was down; a man sat on it, his legs dangling over the edge. Another guy stood beside him, tall and lanky, dressed head to toe in faded denim.
Lori pulled into a spot close enough that she could pretend she wasn’t looking for them if it turned out they weren’t running the class. She dawdled a moment or two, checking her phone, tucking her purse under her seat, waiting for someone else to arrive. Finally another car drove up, a brand new VW Beetle, and two teenage girls climbed out, all flowing blo
