Two mechanics. One rivalry. She’ll prove she’s as good as she says she is. He’ll prove her place isn’t under the hood. It’s over it. “Don’t let the bastards get you down.” For twenty-six years, I lived by my daddy’s motto. Which is why “Mechanic Wanted” is all it takes for me to apply for the job at the garage we once owned. And I meet the biggest bastard of them all. Dexter Ryne. Hotter than Hell in July and a firm believer that my place is on reception, taking phone calls and looking pretty. Not getting dirty under the hood of a car. Determined to prove each other wrong, we make a deal. I have three weeks to prove my worth as a mechanic. If I don’t, I’m on telephone duty. If I do, he’ll accept defeat and make my job permanent. Now, all I have to do is fight my attraction to the cocky little… beep. Problem is, an engine isn’t the only thing he knows how to make purr… MISS MECHANIC, a standalone romantic comedy from New York Times bestseller, Emma Hart.
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I liked it, just didn't love it! I thought it would give me those same warm feels like Miss Fix-It, but it didn't deliver those for me.
Jamie's father was the only mechanic in town for the past few years but certain issues made him sell his garage. It ended up being bought by a new family. Jamie needed a job but kept getting turned down for being a woman. The family who bought her dad's garage was looking for her and her friend tells her just to give it shot. She meets with Dexter Ryne and not only do sparks fly, but also anger because you guessed it! He doesn't want to hire her because shes' a woman. Jamie calls him out on it and soon they come to an agreement that if she can last two weeks he will hire her permanently.
“You’ve got a deal, Dexter Ryne,” she said firmly. “And I’m gonna make you eat your words.” I leaned forward, right over the counter until there were mere inches between us. “I look forward to you eating your own, darlin’.” “I don’t eat my words.” She straightened. “I eat the souls of sexist asses like you.” “Careful.” My lips twitched. “As of right now, I’m your boss.”
“Dex,” I said, adding extra emphasis. “If you have an issue with hiring me, say so right now so I can stop wasting my time with this conversation.” “What makes you think I have an issue with you?” Flatly, I stared at him. “I’m a woman.” He waved his hand, slapping my resume down off the counter. The sheets scattered to the floor. “Never worked with one that wasn’t on reception. Never come across one that didn’t belong on reception.”