Page 4 of Expecting Royal Twins!
Izzy stepped outside. Fresh air filled her lungs. Sunshine warmed her face. She loved spring days better than the humid ones summer brought with it.
In front of her, a black limousine gleamed beneath the midday sun. The engine idled perfectly. Darkened windows hid the identity of the car’s passengers, but uniformed police officers stood nearby.
Not simply “some folks” wanting to see her. Must be a VIP inside the limo if police escorts were needed.
Izzy couldn’t imagine what they wanted with her since the car sounded like it was running fine.
She wiped her dirty hands on the thighs of her cotton coveralls. Not exactly clean, especially with grease caked under her fingernails, but cleaner.
One of the police officers gave her the once-over, as if sizing up her danger potential. A good thing she’d left the wrench in the garage.
A chauffeur walked around the car and opened the back door. A blond man exited. He wore a designer suit and nicely polished black dress shoes. With a classically handsome face and short clipped hair, he was easy on the eyes. But his good looks seemed a little bland, like a bowl of vanilla ice cream without any hot fudge, whipped cream and candy sprinkles. She preferred men who weren’t quite so pretty, men with a little more…character.
“Isabel Poussard?” the man asked.
She stiffened. The last time anyone used her real name had been during her high school graduation ceremony when she received her diploma. She’d always been Izzy, ever since she was a little girl. Uncle Frank had taught her to be careful and cautious around strangers. He’d worried about her and been very protective. She knew he’d be that way now if he were here.
Izzy raised her chin and stared down her nose. The gesture had sent more than one guy running in the opposite direction. “Who wants to know?”
Warm brown eyes met hers. The guy wasn’t intimidated at all. He looked almost amused for some strange reason. “I am Jovan Novak, aide to His Royal Highness Crown Prince Nikola Tomislav Kresimir.”
Jovan’s accent sounded European. Interesting since this was NASCAR country, not Formula 1 territory. “Never heard of him.”
“He’s from Vernonia.”
“Vernonia.” The name sounded vaguely familiar. Izzy rolled the word over in her mind. Suddenly she remembered. “That’s one of those Balkan countries. Fairy-tale castles and snowcapped mountains. There was a civil war there.”
“Yes.”
“Hey, Izzy,” Boyd shouted from behind her. “You need any help?”
She glanced back at the bear of a man who stood with a mallet in his hands and curiosity in his eyes. A grin tugged at her lips. She appreciated how Boyd treated her like a little sister, especially since she had no family. Of course that made things interesting the few times she had a date pick her up after work. “Not yet, Boyd, but I’ll let you know if I do.”
Jovan looked like he might be in shape, but she could probably take him without Boyd’s help thanks to Uncle Frank. When she was younger, he used to barter his mechanic skills for her martial arts class tuition. Now she worked out every day to get in shape for the work necessary by a pit crew member during a race.
“Isabel. Izzy.” Jovan’s smile reached all the way to his eyes. He bowed. “It is such a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your—”
“Is this about a car repair?” He acted so happy to meet her. That bothered Izzy. Most customers limited their interactions to questions about their cars. Some simply ignored her. The men who went out of their way to talk to her usually ended up propositioning her. “Or do you want something else? I’m in the middle of a job.”
Not exactly the most friendly customer service, but something felt off. No customer would know her real name. And the guy smiled too much to be having car trouble.
“One moment please.” Jovan ducked into the limousine.
Time ticked by. Seconds or minutes, Izzy couldn’t tell since she wasn’t wearing a watch. She used the clock hanging in the garage or her cell phone to keep track of time while she worked.
Izzy tapped her foot. She had to get the Chevy finished so she could work on the Dodge Grand Caravan. Somewhere a frazzled mom with four kids was waiting to get her minivan back. It was up to Izzy to get the job done.
