Chapter 2: Make-up is Never a Waste of Time (Megan's POV)

“Hello, hello! Rise and Shine on this beautiful Pittsburgh morning…” I rolled over and slammed the alarm clock off with my hand, unable to keep the smile off my face. Pittsburgh! My Pittsburgh… I would never get sick of hearing that.

“Megs… you’re gonna be late!” My brother Corey yelled as he slammed his hand on my door. I sighed and rolled out of bed, pulling the sheets around me as I made my way towards the sound of his knocking.

“First off, that’s no way to talk to a lady and secondly… I take less time to get ready than you.” I quipped as I threw open the door to reveal my brother standing on the steps to the pool house, dressed in his coveralls.

“I’m already ready… and if you’re a lady, I’m the Queen of France… now hurry up!”

“Fine, give me 5 minutes… your highness.” I did my best mock bow, making sure the blankets stayed put around my 5’4” frame, before slamming the door and heading to the bathroom. As much as I loved my brother and appreciated everything he did for me, he could be a little… uppity at times.

I pulled on a pair of grey skinny jeans, a black Sex Pistols concert-tee and topped it all off with some, oh-so-sexy coveralls of my own. I threw on my work boots and laced them up, before twisting my waist length, jet black hair into a messy bun at the back of my head. Make-up… naw… waste of time, I shrugged before closing the door to my humble abode. I walked past the pool to the garage where I knew my brother would be waiting for me.

Corey was seated, looking foolish I might add, in the Escalade that his wife of 2 years - Shannon - had bought him for his birthday. I jogged over to it, hopping into the passenger seat, praying that today wouldn’t be the day I got grease all over the seat. Ah wonderful grease, and all the other great things that go along with being a Mechanic-in-training.

Corey and I drove in silence towards Fiona’s Motors, the garage that Corey and I worked at. As awful and naggy as Fiona, the owner, was; getting to intern under my brother, with my best friend Harley, made it the best job I could ever ask for.
The vibrations from my cell phone made me jump. “Who’s texting you this early?’ Corey asked, pulling into the parking lot at work.

“Umm… dunno.” But I have an idea. I thought to myself, smiling as I freed my cell phone from my pocket. ‘1 New Message: J. Staal‘ my phone flashed at me. Thought so… my smile grew as I flipped my phone open.


We getting together tonight.

Not a question, an expectation, a command. I frowned, cocky bugger aren’t ya? I despise being bossed around, normally I would tell someone off for it but that being said, I honestly thought about saying yes. He was completely beautiful, and funny when he wasn’t being so full-of-it. I wasn't even sure what he wanted with me half the time. I was initially turned off by the fact that he was a famous hockey player (as much as I love hockey) and as out of character as it was for me; I still hadn't slept with him. I sighed as I pondered my response. In the short time we’d been ‘seeing’ each other I’d come to care for him more than I’d ever had for any man, and more than I’d ever admit; but monogamous relationships aren’t my thing, and even less his. I sighed when I knew what a hard time Harley was going to give me for this…

Can’t, busy. I punched the message out then sent it. How do you like me now Jordan Staal? I laughed at the thought. Right, cause Jordan Staal the hockey player will have no sex if I don’t hook up with him… who am I kidding?

I jumped out of the Escalade and headed into the shop; Harley was already there, talking to Rhonda; the stores manager.
“It’s what he would want, let please leave it at that?” I could hear Harley’s voice cracking and knew she must be referring to her late father. After a few moments of silence I could hear the distinct sound of a sick car, and Rhonda’s sigh of defeat.

“Fine, but there’s a Jaguar waiting outside, and I know they’re one of your specialties… so go ahead.” I headed deeper into the garage, dumping my stuff in the staff room before checking my work list for the day. Ugh! I hate Wednesdays… at least I’m getting away for the weekend!
That thought made me smile. I was going to visit my brother Tyler in New York; something I never got to do enough.
I headed back out into the main garage to see if I could give Harley a hand. I was almost into the front parking lot, when a familiar face stopped me dead in my tracks.

“What seems to be wrong?” Harley was asking the man behind the wheel. He had a cap pulled down over his face but it would take a lot more than a hat for me to not recognize Sidney Crosby. The best part is, she has no idea who that is… I sighed as I turned around and headed into the office. Might as well start on some work for the day.
I grabbed a set of keys from the slot behind the desk and headed behind the shop. The ‘07 Caravan needed some new parts that had just arrived; I decided to start with that.
I jumped in the front seat and pulled around to see Harley still talking to Sidney. She waved at me as I drove the van in through the garage doors.

I was just jacking the rear-end up when I heard a familiar voice. I whipped the dirt that was coating my hands onto the pants of my coveralls and snuck over to the opened garage door.
There was a black Escalade now parked beside the Jag. He was smiling that heart-stopping smile and I couldn’t help but feel giddy, although I didn‘t think too much of it; Jordan Staal had a way of doing that to any girl.
His appearance seemed to have clued Harley into who she was dealing with; she was gazing at Jordan with unfavourable eyes. She was scared that he was going to hurt me. I had tried to ensure her it was just fun but, Harley has always been the type of girl to stick up for the people she feels needs her protection; apparently that included me.
I sighed and returned to the safe darkness of the garage. On top of the fact that I knew I'd never be able to turn him down in person, I also remembered that I didn't even have minimal make-up on.
I let out a sigh as I went back to work; making a mental note... from now on, make-up is never a waste of time.