Page 1 of The Devil's Revelation
ONE
IZZY
Men are assholes.
I try not to scowl as I walk down the mildly crowded sidewalks towards the final shop on my list to try today. This town isn’t overflowing with mechanic shops, but every single one of them seems to be sexist. Is this place stuck in the fifties or something? Has no one heard of a female mechanic before? Is it really that rare?
Apparently around here I’m an anomaly.
Hopefully, the next shop will be better. The one I just left basically laughed in my face and told me to go back to school and get my typing skills up to par because the only thing they would hire me for was to sit behind a desk and look pretty. So had the one before that, and the one before that, and the one before that.
It’s times like these that I wonder if I made the right decision in moving here. I needed a chance to start over, and this seemed like a good place to start. It’s a decent-sized city, not too big or too crowded, along with affordable apartments.
The place I’m renting now is bigger than where I lived back home, and while it might not be new or top of the line, it’s mine and I can live there comfortably on the savings I have for some time before I need to make some hard decisions.
Still, I want a job in my field, and I’m not about to settle for one behind a desk because I have tits and a vagina. My instructors at the college I graduated from warned me that it wouldn’t be easy, but I’m no quitter.
I didn’t quit when Billy Wheeler told me I wouldn’t be able to get to the top of the climbing wall faster than him in fifth grade. I didn’t quit when my high school bullies threw me in a locker and trapped me there for hours. I also didn’t quit when every single man stared in confusion when I walked into class the first day.
I graduated at the top of my class, with the fastest time on record to rebuild an engine, and the admiration of my instructors. Though I didn’t miss the jealousy from my classmates that stifled the room when that little fact was announced. The girl beat them, and they weren’t going to have it.
So when it came time to find a job, I was only able to get a position in town that basically made me the whipping girl for the others in the shop. Which included two of my former classmates. They enjoyed the hell out of sabotaging me, throwing me under the bus when they did shit wrong, and one time they tried to make it sound like I had damaged a customer’s car when I hadn’t even been working that day.
That was a close call, but that was the final straw. I wasn’t going to put up with that lack of professionalism anymore. I packed up and left when my two weeks were up, and I haven’t looked back. Now, I’m wondering if I might have been a bit too rash in that decision, but again, I’m not a quitter. I’ll figure it out.
I’m brought abruptly out of my thoughts when I suddenly bump into someone. “Oof,” the breath from my lung rushes out.
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry,” the woman in front of me says, caramel eyes wide and apologetic. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?” She reaches out to rub my smarting shoulder.
I give her an easy smile. “No harm done. I was lost in thought and not watching where I was going either.”
The woman in front of me smiles. “I guess since we bumped into each other, it’s only polite to exchange names. I’m Rose Fox.” She holds out her hand to me.
I shift the resume to my other hand and shake hers. “I’m Izzy Mills.”
“Pretty name,” she says warmly. “Are you new to town?”
I nod. “Just moved here last week.” I hold up the resume with a wane smile. “Applying to a few places but so far no such luck.”
“What kind of job are you looking for?” she asks, eyes sharpening.
“I’m a mechanic.”
Rose blinks at me and then grins wide, making her entire face brighten. “That’s wonderful!” she cries excitedly. “Can I see your resume?”
Stupidly, I hand it to her. As she looks it over, I silently berate myself.She’s a damn stranger, Izzy. She could be just trying to lure you in, mug you, and try to take your wallet.I eye the woman closer, committing her to memory, just to be safe.
I’d put her at five foot seven, with long dark hair that she has pulled back into a simple braid at the nape of her neck. The only thing that gives away her age is the laugh lines around the corner of her eyes, otherwise I wouldn’t put her a day over forty. The woman has some seriously awesome genes, and I kind of want to hate her for it, but can’t when she lifts her head and beams at me. Her arms are covered in tattoos, and the thick strapped tank top she’s wearing sports a logo on it of two skulls and a sword between them.
“You are exactly what we need,” she says happily.
“Ah, who?” I ask, trying not to wince at how dumb I sound right now.
“My son runs our shop and we’re looking for a new mechanic,” she explains. “You have enough experience that you know what you’re doing from what I see on your resume, but you’re also young enough to keep learning. How old are you, Izzy?”
“Twenty five.”
“And you’ve been out of school a year?” I nod. “See? You’re not set in your ways yet, and that means you’ll be able to handle a lot more thrown at you. The shop is full of hard-headed men, but I’m sure you’re used to that in this profession.”
