Badass in Disguise
Jade’s POV:
1 was in a taxi, taking the long way back to my ce, when I spotted the sign for Mike’s Auto Service.
I asked the driver to pull ovTI.
As I approached the garage after paying the taxi, I noticed a sleek red Porsche parked near the entrance, looking wildly out of ce among the beat–up sedans and trucks. Through the open bay dour, I could hear raised voices.
Tve reced the timing belt and checked the transmission as requested, Ss was saying, his voice tight but professional. “Here’s your bill, Mr. Coleman<b>.</b><b>” </b>
1 paused near the entrance, observing the scene inside<b>. </b><b>Ss </b>stood by the Mercedes in blue overalls, a clipboard in hand. Across from him was a well–dressed man in his mid–forties–expensive suit, designer <b>wutch</b>, artificially tanned skin. He was standing too close to Ss, his bodynguage <b>invasive</b>.
“You have quite the talent with your hands,” the man said, ignoring the clipboard Ss was offering. His voice dripped with suggestion. “A smart, good–looking young man like you could do better than this ce.”
Ss took a small step back. “I’m happy with my job, sir.”
I slipped inside, pretending to examine a service price list on the wall. The bell above the door jangled, but neither of them paid me any attention.
Coleman–<b>that </b>was what Ss had called him–<b>moved </b>closer again, closing <b>the </b>distance Ss had created. “Come now, Princeton isn’t cheap. I hear you’re on schrship? I bet you could use some extra cash. His hand brushed against Ss’s arm. “I could help with that.
Ss’s jaw tightened visibly. “My car servicees with the <b>bill</b>, nothing more. If you’re satisfied with the <b>repairs</b>, I’d appreciate payment.”
Colemanughed, the sound ally and grating. “I’m on the alumni advisory board at Princeton,” he said, lowering his voice. “I have friends on the schrshipmittee. It would be a shame if anything happened to your funding.”
I’d heard enough. I stepped forward, smiling brightly. “Excuse
e me, I’m here about my car? The Honda with the brake issue?”
Both men turned. <b>Ss’s </b>expression remained neutral, but I caught the brief sh of relief in his eyes. Coleman looked annoyed at the interruption.
“We don’t have any Hondas scheduled today,” Ss <b>said </b>evenly.
“Oh, that’s strange, I frowned, pulling out my phone. “Let me check my
confirmation”
Coleman turned back to Ss with an impatient hull “As I was saying,” he continued, voice lower now, “I understand your mother is in the hospital. Medical bills can be crushing for someone in your… situation.”
Ss stiffened. “That’s not your concern.
“All I’m asking is for you to join me for a drink,” Coleman persisted. “We could <b>discuss </b>your
future. I know p
people who could make your
<b>12:28 </b>Sat, Sep 27
academic <b>career </b>very smooth.”
I prefer to earn <b>my </b>grades, Ss replied coldly.
:
Coleman’s friendly fa?ade slipped, “Don’t be <b>naive</b>. You think a kid from your background gets into Princeton without someone pulling strings?
nly here to fix cars, Mr. Coleman. Please respect that.”
“I earned my ce,” Ss said quietly, intensity burning in his eyes. “And I’m only here to
Coleman leaned in, dropping all pretense. “Listen, you ungrateful little shit. Do you know how many kids would kill for the opportunity I’m offering? One call from me, and that schrship disappears.”
ed around Ss’s wrist, I stepped forward. “Is there a problem here?” I asked, my voice carrying across the
When Coleman’s hand mped around
garage.
Coleman barely nced at me. “This is a private conversation. Mind your own business.”
“Actually,” I said, holding up my phone, “I’ve been recording the <bst </b>few minutes. Including that lovely threat about his schrship.”
Coleman released Ss’s wrist and spun toward me.
“You’re b bluffing.
I turned my
y screen toward him, showing the active recording app. “Princeton has a strict policy <b>against </b>alumni using their influence to solicit… favors… from students. I wonder what the board would think about this recording?”
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