* * * *
Leaving his car at the shop, Matt took the shuttle into work. Once he reached the gym, he managed to avoid running into Roxie before he reached his office—she wasn’t at the front desk, but that wasn’t unusual. The woman did everything but what she was paid to do at work. Today Matt was grateful she wasn’t standing guard, because he was in no mood to deal with her shit today. If he were lucky, maybe she’d forget that he worked there and wouldn’t bother him at all…
No such luck. A little after noon, the phone on his desk rang. When Matt answered, the first thing Roxie asked was, “What’s wrong with your car?”
“What?” Matt wondered just how she managed to find this stuff out. “I dropped it off. Why?”
Chewing gum cracked loudly in his ear. “Guy on the line says he’s calling about Mr. Dee-Lorenzo’s Jag. What’s wrong with it?”
With a sigh, Matt admitted, “Roxie, I don’t know. Put him through and let me find out.”