Fabricating Jada Read online

  Carter pulled her bottom lip through her teeth over and over. Most people took it as her flirting, but it was her thinking face as she mulled things over. "Do you want to know what I really think? Or do you want me to tell you what you want to hear?"

  I cocked my head to the side, giving her a get real kind of look as I sat back in the booth with my arms crossed over my chest. "I don't think you're physically capable of not telling people what you really think. Let's hear it."

  Her eyes softened while she continued to abuse her lip. "Here's the deal. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Don't waste it because your idol turned out to be a dick. Do you know how many celebrities have come in here and are nothing like I'd thought they'd be? It's disappointing, but I think you've built him up to be someone in your head that he's not. Go to the class. Work your ass off and prove them all wrong."

  "That's easier said than done though. I'm not you. I don't ooze your confidence and people's heads don't spin like an owl's to watch me when I walk by. When you speak, people listen to you."

  She scoffed. "Oh, please. People look at you all the time, but you usually have your face stuck in some car magazine and you don't notice. People think I'm some cheap bimbo in this town like everyone else with no brain. You're smart, Jada. You have so much passion. Make them believe what you're saying is the law. And as far as the confidence goes, fake it until you make it. Roll your shoulders back, stand tall—well as tall as you can for a runt—and don't let people walk all over you."

  I tried to mean mug her for the runt comment, but I couldn't. I secretly loved her short jokes because I liked being small. My mind went to Jesse and the way he looked at me when he first saw me. His gaze burned with something that sent my stomach into a flurry of butterflies. Maybe I wasn't as invisible as I thought I was. I decided in that moment I was taking control of my destiny.

  I wasn't sure what to expect when I walked up to the iron spiderwebbed gates for the second day in a row carrying a duffle bag with my welding helmet, gloves, and small set of hand tools. My heartbeat felt out of rhythm, and I prayed my body's need to flush constantly when I was uncomfortable would subside. It was a huge risk telling my boss at Auto Depot I could only work weekends for the next few months. Luckily for me, no one wanted those shifts anyway. It was time to focus and get my game face on. Slipping on my mask of indifference, I pressed the call button I hadn't noticed yesterday.

  "Yes?" DeAnna's voice asked with an edge to it.

  "Hey. It's Jada Carmen. I'm here for the class."

  Static crackled before she responded. "Oh, thank God. I wasn't sure if you were going to show or not. I'll buzz you in. Come on back to my office."

  "Okay."

  The door hummed as the lock clicked. Before it locked back in place, I grabbed the gate and pulled it open far enough to slip through. Even though I'd only been in there once, I remembered the way to DeAnna's office and grit my teeth hoping I wouldn't run into anyone else along the way.

  When I came to her door, it was partially closed and I could hear her talking to someone on the other side of it. Guilt smacked me square in the chest overhearing the conversation. Maybe I should go back the way I came and then come back?

  That was until I heard his voice. "I don't know what you plan for me to teach these people, DeAnna. I don't have time to waste on this frivolous shit when I have real clients waiting on paying jobs."

  I flattened myself against the wall, set my bag down, and strained to listen. I can't believe I'm doing this. This is so wrong. Just walk away.

  But I didn't.

  "The last build we have scheduled isn't due to be finished for a few months. The rest of the crew is going to step up with our other orders. You need some good press, Jess. The last eleven months have hurt us more than you're willing to accept and I refuse to let you self-sabotage everything we've built."

  He did this huff-groan thing that went straight to my core, causing me to flush with heat everywhere.

  "Fine. How many squacks did you let in the class?"

  I could only imagine the glare she was probably giving him at that moment.

  "Squack is the weirdest word I've ever heard you call your little skanks. But whatever you call them, there are none. These are strictly people who are there to learn fabrication."

  He scoffed. "What about the girl you paraded in here yesterday?"

  My eyes grew wide and I held my breath.

  "Jada? Oh, she just got here and she is the real deal. I checked her out thoroughly and this girl lives, eats, and breathes this lifestyle. I just don't think she's ever been given an opportunity. Look at these pictures."

  I whipped my head toward her door and wished like hell I had X-ray vision, so I knew what pictures she was showing him.

  Are they still talking about me?

  Someone cleared their throat behind me, causing all the blood to drain from my face as I jumped out of my own skin. A beautiful, mocha skin-colored guy who towered over me with a black beanie pulled low over his head and stained work clothes, gave me a pointed look with his full lips and chiseled jaw.

  Busted.

  "You lost, Valley Girl?" he asked in a gruff voice.

  I was too shocked and scared of DeAnna and Jesse knowing I was listening in on their conversation that I didn't have time to get annoyed at the stupid nickname.

  "Um, yeah. I was looking uh … for … um DeAnna's office?"

  He winked at me and pressed his hand on my lower back, guiding me the few feet to her door. He knocked on it as he pushed it open. Jesse was leaning across DeAnna's desk with his back to me, looking at something on her computer. DeAnna looked startled behind her desk at our entrance.

  "Hey, I found someone, primed and ready for a photo shoot, looking for you lost down the hallway."

  I glanced at him quickly with wonder written all over my face. What the hell is he talking about and why didn't he just rat me out?

  Mr. Full-lips-no-nark held his hand out to me. "I'm Miguel by the way."

  "Jada." His hand swallowed mine as we shook, only he didn't let it go. After a beat he brought my hand close to his lips, and my pulse increased at a rapid pace.

  Oh, God. He's not going to kiss my hand is he?

  I sucked in a ragged breath as he inspected my hands. "I'm surprised and a little impressed, Jada."

  Reminding myself to breathe, I was about to ask why when Jesse's hard tone cut off my speech.

  "And why would that be, Nunez?" he demanded. His voice was deeper and grittier than Miguel's.

  Tension filled the room with every breath. Only Miguel didn't seem to get the memo, or care while he grabbed my other hand inspecting it just the same as the other one.

  "Looks like we have a working girl here, boss. Her hands are callused, stained, cracked, and she has scars all over them."

  My gaze darted between him and Jesse while DeAnna sat there with a smug grin. Jesse's stare was filled with suspicion and something else I couldn't quite decipher. After a beat, he turned his attention to Miguel and narrowed his glare at our still intertwined hands. "Was there something you needed or did you come in here to piss me off and flirt with anything with legs?"

  It was like a sucker punch to the gut, but I refused to let my face show what I felt.

  Miguel dropped my hands and folded his arms over his chest. "Yeah, there was something I wanted. Where are we putting all these people when they show up?"

  "Are they already here? No one was supposed to be here until ten," Jesse said with an annoyed huff.

  Jesse did his rumble-growl leaving goose bumps on my flesh. I couldn't believe how much one sound from a man could affect me. What the heck is going on here?

  "Send that information to my phone, Dee. Let's go get this clusterfuck set up in the back room of the shop." Both men headed toward the door without a second glance in my direction.

  DeAnna let out a low whistle after they were gone, but her smug grin remained.

  "What?" I asked, still standing in her door
way like a deer caught in headlights.

  "You really get under his skin."

  I balled my hands into fists. "I haven't even done anything."

  "I know. That's the best part." She motioned to the chair Jesse was standing in front of when I walked in. "Please have a seat."

  Her face relaxed, but there was something in her stare that made my stomach roil and my nerves go on high alert. Crap. She knows I was in the hall eavesdropping. It was dishonest. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do it. I—"

  "You have nothing to apologize for. I just have a stack of forms I need you to fill out for insurance purposes and releases for any photos taken and your check. We didn't get a chance to do them yesterday and everyone else already has theirs done."

  All the tension drained from me, and I allowed myself to relax. "Sure. I'll fill out whatever you need."

  "Great." She turned in her chair toward her file cabinet and pulled out a file folder. When she turned back around she rifled through it, handing me a small stack of papers and a pen. I spent the next twenty minutes filling everything out as Florence and the Machine filled the space. Nodding my head and tapping my boot to the beat as I mouthed the words to "What Kind of Man" left a permanent smile on my face.

  I glanced up at DeAnna when I was finished, and she was sitting there watching me with the same smug grin she'd worn earlier. "Sorry. I love Florence," I admitted with a sheepish grin for being caught in my silent sing along.

  "She's one of my favorites too. I think you and I are going to get along great." She glanced down at the small platinum watch on her right wrist, and her eyes grew wide. "We need to get you down to the shop. Everyone should be getting here soon. Let's go see if the boys need anything."

  Placing all of my paperwork on her desk, I handed her the check with enough zeroes to make me want to vomit and followed her down the long hallway once again. Only this time I kind of knew what to expect when it came to Jesse.

  We entered a different door than the day before, and it took us into a smaller shop as I gripped my bag tight. It was wall to wall metal fabrication machinery with six work benches pulled into the middle of the room in rows. My eyes drifted across the old-school English wheel, the industrial-size drill press, a pneumatic hammer, pipe benders, and metal brakes. Three oxygen-acetylene torches were in the corner alongside a band saw and three different kinds of grinders. The giant anvil in the opposite corner, next to what I was sure was a blacksmith forge, made my mind swirl with excitement, and I had to keep myself from bouncing in place. All I wanted to do was run around and then touch everything like a three-year-old who was just told to not touch.

  A gruff throat cleared behind us and DeAnna turned to face whoever it was. I didn't bother to look or pay attention to their conversation in hushed voices. Instead I drifted toward the huge metal forge off to my right. Miguel walked up to me as I approached it.

  "You know that's not a grill, right?" he asked with a smirk.

  I narrowed my eyes at his stupidity. "Oh you mean we won't be grilling burgers on a steel forge?"

  His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "So you really are more than just a hottie with a body."

  It really shouldn't have annoyed me as much as it did, but I couldn't help the fire in my belly and the way it seemed to connect to my mouth around this place. Rolling my eyes at him, I tried my best to keep my facial expression passive otherwise. "Well, it's yet to be determined if your assumptions make you as big of a jerk as your boss or not."

  He chuckled at my dis, and his brown eyes flickered with delight. "Feisty. I like it. You'll need that in a place like this. If you're lucky, Jess might teach you the art of being a blacksmith."

  I'd love nothing more.

  I nodded but kept my mouth shut as more people shuffled into the space. Miguel bumped my shoulder and jerked his chin for me to turn around. Jesse and DeAnna were talking to each other near the door. Five other people were awkwardly standing around the doorway. A blond kid that screamed hipster pulled out his phone and started taking selfies, trying his best to get Jesse in the background.

  "How stupid could he be to think no one is going to notice what he's trying to do?" I muttered to Miguel.

  He chuckled and jerked his chin up toward Jesse, who noticed the movement and zeroed his glare in on us.

  "Watch this," Miguel muttered.

  The weight of his stare made me shift uncomfortably from foot to foot but I arched a brow and pulled my eyes off of Jesse to the idiot who was getting more and more brazen with every picture. Jesse followed my gaze over his shoulder to Mr. Hipster-not-so-lucky, and I could have sworn steam came out of his ears. Jesse marched over to the kid, ripped his phone out of his hand, and stalked in our direction.

  "Hey, man! That's my phone," the kid whined.

  Jesse slammed the phone on the anvil next to us, grabbed a hammer from the bench beside it, and with one overhead swing, he brought the hammer down onto the phone and smashed it into pieces.

  "What the hell!" the kid cried again but was smart enough to stay in his place by the door.

  After scooping what was left on the anvil into his hand, he walked over to the kid and dumped it into his awaiting palms. "Correction. It was your phone. Now get the hell out of my shop," Jesse growled.

  My mouth hung open from the shock of what happened, but I couldn't help it.

  Once McHispter ran out the door with what was left of his phone, Jesse turned his hard glare on the rest of us. "I won't tolerate pictures being taken in here. If that's all you came for, get the fuck out. Those of you who want to be here and learn sit your asses down so we can get started."

  The only sound in the room was people shuffling toward work benches, stools being dragged against the sealed concrete floor, and hushed whispers.

  "You better grab your seat. Good luck, Valley Girl," Miguel said with a squeeze on my forearm before he made his way over to Jesse, who was still watching me like a hawk.

  No one wanted to sit in the front two benches. I couldn't blame them, however my luck ran out because it was the only place left to sit. Right under his heated, unreadable stare.

  Sitting down quickly, I stashed my stuff near my feet and peered around the rest of the room to get a feel for all of the other people in my class. All dudes. Only a few of them had bags of their own. The guy who slipped into the seat next to me looked as nervous as I felt with his eyes darting everywhere around the room.

  "As you know my name is Jesse Valentine. You're here because you want to learn how to fabricate and become master builders. I don't have the time to teach you how to become a master of anything because I have a business to run. So, I need to know what you already know so we can skip the dumb shit and help your skill level grow in the areas you need help with.

  I am so screwed.

  I was an amateur at best and a novice in everything else. Lord help me not look like an idiot.

  Jesse pointed to the kid next to me. "You."

  "Me?" His skinny form withered in his seat under Jesse's pointed glare.

  "Yeah, you, skippy. Let's see if you know the basics about engines. What are the four strokes of an engine?"

  And here come the innuendoes.

  His eyes grew wide before he answered, "Um … suck—boom—bang—go."

  Everyone in the room laughed followed by hushed whispers and I couldn't stop my eye roll.

  "There a problem, Jane?" Jesse pressed.

  "Nope." I did my best to keep my voice steady even though I couldn't keep my leg from bouncing.

  "Looks like you have a problem with his terminology. Does that offend you and your feminine sensibilities? If it does, tough shit."

  I glared at his beautifully structured jerk face. "Nope." And it didn't. The kid answered it wrong.

  "Then what was the eye roll for? Do you have an attitude problem, Jane? Are you more concerned with being made up for a photo shoot than being here for the right reasons?"

  What is his freaking problem? And why is he only picking on me?<
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  My hands squeezed into fists, and I tried my best to keep my face from showing my annoyance because then he'd win and know he was getting to me.

  "My name is not Jane. And no I don't have an attitude—his answer was wrong."

  The kid next to me whipped his head in my direction. "No it wasn't," he challenged.

  My eyes rolled again before I could catch myself. It was something as natural as breathing for me.

  "Actually it was," Miguel spoke up from beside Jesse.

  "What?" the kid shrieked.

  Guilt assaulted me for ratting him out to save my own butt, however Jesse was proving this was war and my only way to survive would be to stand on my own two feet.

  "Anyone care to tell us why he was wrong?" Miguel asked and peered around the room. No one spoke. The tension grew until it was almost suffocating.

  Jesse planted his hands on my workbench and lowered himself to my level. "Since you're a know-it-all, Jane, why don't you give us the answer?"

  I wanted to lash out and yell at him to leave me alone, and to stop calling me Jane but I couldn't. Instead, I shoved down my initial emotional response and gritted my teeth before I spoke.

  "It's suck—bang—boom—go or intake, compression, power, exhaust."

  Miguel winked.

  The kid glowered. Well I just made an enemy.

  And Jesse's stare grew in intensity. "Firing order on a small-block Chevy," he challenged quickly.

  Without hesitation I rattled it off. "1-8-4-3-6-5-7-2. Do you have any more stupid questions or are you going to harass someone else?"

  His brows rose in surprise, but the suspicion remained in his gaze as he shoved off my table. He peppered everyone with questions from fuel injection and carburetors to hydraulic suspension. Thankfully, I knew the answer to everything he asked, but I didn't have to answer again.

  The class was filled with people who seemed to know less than me and guys who'd been doing this their entire life. I fell somewhere in the middle of the pack.

  "Who in here can weld?" Miguel asked, looking around the room.