She Hired a Poor Mechanic to Fix Her Car… Then Discovered He Was a Billionaire!
Chapter 1
Emma Reynolds had learned a long time ago that expensive things didn’t always mean reliable things.
Her car was proof.
The black luxury sedan had cost nearly $90,000, yet on the most important morning of her career, it decided to die in the middle of nowhere.
Emma sat behind the steering wheel, staring at the dashboard.
Nothing.
She turned the key again.
A weak click answered.
“No. No, no, no…”
She tried once more.
Click.
The engine refused to start.
Emma looked at the clock.
7:42 a.m.
Her presentation began at nine.
Today was supposed to be the most important day of her professional life. After six years working for Reynolds Development, she was finally presenting a proposal that could determine whether her family company won a massive redevelopment contract.
And now she was stranded on a rural highway.
She grabbed her phone.
One bar.
She called roadside assistance.
The call failed.
Again.
Failed.
Emma slammed the steering wheel.
“Perfect.”
Then she saw him.
A pickup truck was parked at an old roadside repair shop about fifty yards ahead.
A faded sign hung above the building:
MARTIN’S AUTO REPAIR
The place looked like it hadn’t been painted in twenty years.
Emma grabbed her handbag and stepped out.
Her heels sank slightly into the gravel.
She walked toward the garage.
A man was underneath an old pickup truck.
Only his boots were visible.
“Excuse me?”
The mechanic slid out.
Emma stopped.
He looked nothing like the mechanics she was accustomed to dealing with.
He wore faded jeans, a gray T-shirt stained with grease, and an old jacket.
His dark hair was messy.
His hands were covered in oil.
He looked tired.
But his eyes were calm.
“Car trouble?”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“What happened?”
“It won’t start.”
“What does it do?”
“Nothing.”
He smiled slightly.
“That narrows it down.”
Emma wasn’t amused.
“Can you fix it?”
“Probably.”
“How long?”
He looked toward her car.
“Ten minutes.”
Emma laughed.
“Ten minutes?”
“Maybe fifteen.”
She glanced at her watch.
“I don’t have fifteen minutes.”
“Then you’d better hope it’s ten.”
He grabbed a small toolbox.
Emma watched him walk toward her sedan.
“Are you the owner?”
“No.”
“The mechanic?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, do you work here?”
He looked back.
“My uncle owns the shop.”
Emma nodded.
She wasn’t sure why she felt uncomfortable.
Maybe because he wasn’t intimidated by her.
Most people were.
She was the daughter of one of the most powerful real-estate families in the state.
People recognized her.
People treated her differently.
This man didn’t.
He opened the hood.
“Pop the trunk.”
“What?”
“I need access to the battery.”
Emma opened it.
He examined the engine.
Then reached inside.
“Your battery terminal is loose.”
“That simple?”
“Usually the expensive problems aren’t the ones that make noise.”
He tightened the connection.
“Try it.”
Emma sat inside.
Turned the key.
The engine roared to life.
She stared at the dashboard.
Then at him.
“You actually fixed it.”
He closed the hood.
“I told you.”
Emma reached into her purse.
“How much?”
“Fifty.”
She handed him a hundred-dollar bill.
He shook his head.
“I said fifty.”
“Keep the rest.”
“No.”
She frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I did a fifty-dollar job.”
He handed the extra money back.
Emma stared at him.
“Most mechanics wouldn’t do that.”
“Most people don’t need to.”
He returned to the garage.
Emma stood there.
Something about him bothered her.
Not because he was rude.
Because he wasn’t trying to impress her.
She got back into her car.
Before leaving, she rolled down the window.
“What’s your name?”
He wiped his hands on a rag.
“Daniel.”
“Daniel what?”
“Daniel Carter.”
Emma nodded.
“Thank you, Daniel.”
He smiled.
“Good luck with your presentation.”
Emma froze.
“How do you know about my presentation?”
Daniel pointed toward the passenger seat.
Her presentation folder was visible through the window.
She laughed.
“Right.”
Then she drove away.
She didn’t know it yet, but the poor mechanic she’d just met had a secret.
Daniel Carter wasn’t poor.
Not even remotely.
He was one of the wealthiest men in the country.
And the reason he was working in that garage had nothing to do with needing money.
