Chapter 1

Davenport's Auto & Stop 'n' Shop, East Elmhurst, Queens, NYC

"She's purring like a kitten again, Mr. Callahan," the pretty raven haired girl behind the crowded counter said as she added up the repair bill for his VW Passat.

"It's amazing how Klaus can find problems where other mechanics can't. I've been to three other mechanics and none of them knew what was wrong with her," the elderly man said as he pulled out his wallet from his back pocket.

"Well, that'll teach ya for being unfaithful to Davenport's Auto!" Danielle said with laughter and a smile, teasing the elderly man.

"Not unfaithful, Dani," the man said with a smile. "It was just a budgetary thing. You guys aren't cheap, you know."

"Yeah, we know," Danielle said, blowing a bubble with her gum before she popped it, and watching the numbers as she ticked on the calculator. "But with us you get your money's worth and you get the work done right the first time."

"That's true," Mr. Callahan said, nodding as he handed her his credit card.

Danielle Davenport was a precocious and energetic twenty-two year old and she was the oldest child in the Davenport family. The family owned and operated a local gas station and a three-bay automotive repair and snack shop in East Elmhurst, Queens, New York City.

She had a much younger brother, as in ten years younger. Due to fertility problems, her mother hadn't been able to have more children and it looked as if Danielle would be it for Daniel and Dana Davenport. But then a miracle happened and David Davenport was born.

David was now ten years old and he idolized and adored by his doting older sister who had all the energy in the world to play games with him other sisters her age wouldn't think of doing. Then again, a lot of older sisters hadn't longed for a sibling as badly as Danielle had so this paid off dividends for little Davey when he was born into a doting and loving family where he never wanted for anything.

Since the Davenports family business was the only garage that specialized in German automobile repairs—and knew what they were doing—and with German automobiles becoming popular those days, their business was booming.

Daniel Davenport knew he'd have to hire an extra mechanic soon. He needed someone to help their current mechanic, sixty-two year old German immigrant, Klaus Schreiber, who had been employed with the Davenports for over twenty years, ever since Danielle was two years young.

Klaus' age was starting to show when a growing backlog of cars in need of repairs began filling their lot and Daniel had to work more and more in the garage as Klaus was taking more days off. At the moment there were four Jettas, two Bugs, and one VW Bus, and finding space for these cars was getting difficult since the property wasn't that big. Daniel had thought about tearing down the extra shed in the back to open up more room, but he hadn't booked any success convincing his wife, Dana, that it was a good idea.

Danielle herself tended the snack shop and the four gas pumps out front when she wasn't working at the Bastion Burger Joint a few days a week and during the day on weekends. She only worked at the burger place to be among her friends and for a little extra money for herself.

She'd never been one for academics and decided college really wasn't for her—and being pretty old-fashioned, her father couldn't agree more—so she didn't go when she graduated high school. Instead, she took a couple of classes in bookkeeping at the local community college so she could help her father with the books.

Danielle's mother, Dana, ran the four bedroom home built over the business, and with a young child still in school and the housekeeping to tend to, she had her hands full just being a mom. She left the administrative work to her daughter the moment Danielle was able to take over.

Although Danielle wasn't academically strong, she did inherit her father's head for business. Despite her rather lackluster educational years in public school, Danielle was good with numbers so she added the business bookkeeping to her list of chores for the family business. Although she was a very carefree gal, when it came to her family's business, she was dead serious.

That day her father's prayers were about to be heard, though. It came driving up in an old dented up once-upon-a-time black Porsche 911 that roared with a perfectly tuned engine into the station for gasoline.

Danielle was inside the shop, finalizing the payment for Mr. Callahan, when she heard the powerful engine. She raised her head and saw the car, and she paused with chewing on her piece of peppermint gum as she peered curiously through the large window of the shop.

Her big golden-brown eyes, fringed with long whipping black lashes, blinked as she saw the car pull up and stop by pump one.

"I hope Klaus isn't busy," she mumbled. She'd otherwise have to see to that customer. The Davenport's gas station was still one of the few places where people still got full service.

Mr. Callahan turned his head to look out the window, too, and saw the car. Since the Davenport's gas station was boldly advertised as a full service station, the owner of the Porsche didn't get out. "I don't see the old guy walking up to the pump, Dani," Mr. Callahan noted.

"Well, Klaus is getting up there so maybe he needs a little more time," she said absently as she took his credit card, slid it through the machine, and when the receipt printed out, she ripped off the receipt and had him sign before she rang it up and put their copy in the old fashioned cash register.

"Still don't see him," Mr. Callahan noted.

"Well, that means it's gonna be me," she said, closing the register drawer. "Watch that lamp, Mr. Callahan. When it's on, it's tellin' you something isn't right," she said with a smile.

He nodded, widening his eyes. "Oh, you bet I will from now on, Dani," he said.

"Good!" she said, chipper. "Have a great day, and say hello to Mrs. Callahan for me."

"You bet, Dani."

She stepped out from behind the counter dressed in a summery bright red bandana poncho-hem cotton tee with rolled up short sleeves over a pair of low-hip denims. Her high ponytail swayed as she walked with brisk grace toward the door to see to the new customer.

When she stepped out into the day, she felt the summer's heat hit her and she squinted golden-amber eyes against the sun. Her big, intelligent golden-brown eyes peered through the sunshine and spotted the driver's blond head as he sat patiently behind the wheel of his classic Porsche. It's a shame, she thought. The beautiful cabriolet would really benefit from some body work and a fresh paint job. She was sure it would look magnificent once it had.

"Hi!" she greeted as she rounded the front of the small sports car and only briefly blinked when she saw how incredibly attractive the guy was behind the wheel. In fact, she nearly stopped in her tracks. She felt, rather than saw, the power of his intense blue eyes that followed her from under windblown blond locks in a strong, chiseled face.

"What will it be?" she asked masking her thoughts behind a bright smile as she slipped fingers down the back pockets of her jeans.

"Unleaded. Fill it up." he said with a very pleasant, deep drawl albeit a bit curt.

He was staring at her, and she couldn't help but notice he had this strange look in his eyes. Almost stoic, even detached, but what a pair of peepers that guy had! Sterling blue fringed with almost black lashes which only added to the beauty of his appearance. He was wearing a simple white tee that she could almost hear groan under the strain of his wide shoulders and very well toned upper arms and chest.

"They're all unleaded," she said as she nodded at the pumps. "What octane do you prefer? Regular, Super, or Premium?"

She was smiling very friendly, but she didn't even get a twitch back. She was beginning to think he didn't know how to smile. Staring, on the other hand, was something he'd perfected into an art form.

"What would you recommend?" he asked, and she noticed how slowly he blinked. Almost lazy. Or sleepily. It gave him a distinct, sensual look, adding to his already powerful magnetism.

"For a..." she craned forward to look down the car's dented side, "1967, 911?"

He nodded.

"I'd go with Super," she said with confidence. "It's cheaper than Premium. And to be honest, Premium's really only for the newer models." She smiled. "So, Super?"

He nodded as he continued to stare at her. Her smile faltered some, knowing he wasn't going to engage in any conversation with her.

"Okay!" she said, chipper, before she stepped to the front left fender and with a slender, short-nailed fingertip, flipped up the gasoline cover.

She chose Super and stuck the nozzle into the tank before she squeezed the trigger and put the latch in place while she looked over her shoulder chewing her gum, watching the falling numbers for a moment, but then it slowly dawned on her he was watching her, and she swept big eyes to him seeing he was.

"So ... passing through Queens?" she asked just to break the uncomfortable silence—and hoping he'd do more than just stare at her.

"You have a help wanted sign in the window," he noted, ignoring her inquiry.

"Sure do," she said, nodding.

"What job do you need filled?"

"Mechanic." She nodded. "Why? Interested?" she asked, and he nodded once. "Well," she looked down at the nozzle as she heard the click, indicating the tank was full, "you can talk to my Dad. He's in the garage." She looked at him with big eyes. "You have experience working on German cars?" she asked.

"I know enough," he said.

Know enough?

She briefly frowned, but then she nodded. "M-kay."

Another car, a flashier black American model—a Viper—pulled up on the other side of the pump where she stood. Hard rock music boomed as a handsome dark-haired man wearing Ray Bans, twisted in his seat behind the wheel to smile at her as he shut off the powerful engine and loud music. She returned the smile as she turned and set the nozzle back into its perch.

"Hey there beautiful!" the young guy called. He had dark hair and an infectious smile. He flipped his shades back on his head and sent her a broad smile, looking at her with twinkling hazel-green eyes.

"Hey there, handsome!" she gave back, grinning. "Strange, but a Viper just like yours pulled up for gas just little over an hour ago." She frowned with feigned curiosity as he pulled himself up to sit on the back support of his seat as she replaced the top of the Porsche's tank.

"Really?" he said. "I hope you didn't flirt with the guy," he said with a feigned look of warning.

"You bet I did," she said, and she laughed when he looked wryly at her.

Behind the steering wheel of his Porsche, the blond guy watched this playful banter between the two, his gaze going from her bright smiling face to the handsome dark-haired man dressed impeccably in the latest fashion. Then his gaze rose as she came to stand by his door.

"That'll be $24.98," she said, with a catching smile and a friendly tone.

He looked up, noticing the soft flush in her cheeks.

Danielle's smile waned a little when she noticed he was silent and staring at her with an intense look in his blue eyes. His gaze never wavered or left her face as he moved forward and pulled out his wallet from the back of his almost threadbare jeans that showed off strong, muscular thighs.

"$24.98? That's it?" the dark-haired guy cried in shock, tearing her out of her thoughts.

Danielle's lashes flickered as if she were awakening from a trance, and she smiled before she turned her head to look across the Porsche at the other guy. "Should'a bought Stan's Porsche instead of the Viper, Rob," she said with laughter as she accepted the money from the customer and went to the cashbox on the island to get his change. "Saves on fill-ups so you wouldn't have to come back here after an hour." She nodded with big eyes.

She got the two pennies change and returned to the silent customer, but she'd already dismissed him the moment Rob appeared, and that would prove to be a mistake. She wasn't paying attention as she absently handed him his change, but they missed their mark and dropped passed his opened palm.

"Oh!" she cried, and without thinking, she leaned in to take them from his thigh bringing her dark head close to his face not seeing how his nostrils flared and something sparked in his eyes before she pulled herself out and looked embarrassed as hell at his staring face. "I'm so sorry! I wasn't paying attention."