Chapter 2

Amir rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll call him after we’re done with the orders from Miss Scarlet and Colonel Mustard.”

The lone customer came forward with a bike light, two reflective arm bands, and a combination lock. Amir checked them out and made small talk, which Ken joined. For a moment as they discussed the oncoming autumn and the boost to tourism that would follow, Amir forgot why there was a sludgy sensation in the center of his chest. One glance at the newspaper gave him a bitter reminder.

“So whyare you asking the stars for advice?” Ken asked after the customer had left. “You were never the type to rely on the supernatural.” He leaned forward on the counter. His light brown eyes, which Amir to this day admired for their piercing warmth, glanced to the paper and back to Amir. “I guess some guys go slumming in bars, some guys dredge dating sites, and some…pray.”

Amir snatched the paper and rolled it up. “I’m not praying for a boyfriend yet.”

“Yet. Amir, I can only do so much. Like I said the other day, we’re mature enough adults that we can live and work together despite our…history, but when you mope like this…”

“Yeah, yeah, you care enough to feel bad for me, but you’re detached enough that you want me to fix it myself.” Amir rolled the newspaper tighter. They had, indeed, had this conversation over the weekend when they were watching a movie and Amir expressed jealousy for the romantic pair. “Which is why I’m not asking for your help. I didn’t need you to help me the last time either.”

Ken rolled his eyes. “That last timeonly lasted a week, and you were glad to be rid of him.”

Amir licked the corner of his mouth. “The sex was good though…”

“Yeah, but he was a total shithead.” Ken sneered. “Maybe you do need my help. I can probably find you better eligible bachelors than some amateur astrologist can.”

“I don’t doubt it. My only concern is that your track record isn’t exactly spotless either.”

The door chime went off, followed by the familiar sound of someone struggling to fit through the door with a bike on their shoulder. Amir gave Ken his this conversation isn’t overlook. Ken cocked an eyebrow in his usual response of a that’s what you thinkexpression. Amir sighed before conducting himself more professionally.

“Can I help you today?” he asked the customer.

The man who was shrugging the bike gently onto the ground could have been somewhere around Amir’s age, except his smooth Korean features gave Amir pause. He had known a few older Koreans who were mistaken for being twenty years younger all the time. This guy’s style was distinctly Generation Y though, and it was clear that he hadn’t ridden his bike there. He wore bootcut jeans and a three-quarter sleeved shirt with Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” logo on it, and there were no sweat spots on any of his clothes to indicate that he had been pedaling the bike in this early September heat.

“Hi,” said the customer with a mild Mid-Atlantic accent. “I took a bad turn this past weekend and accidentally dropped this down a ditch…with me on it.”

Amir winced. “Ouch. Glad to see you’re okay.”

The customer nodded down to his leg. “A few scratches and bruises, but nothing broken. I’ve had worse.”

“Same. Still sucks. Let’s look at the damage here though.” Amir walked around the counter to examine the bike. Ken also went and knelt to see exactly what he would be fixing. The chain was gnarled around the derailleur, which itself hung at an odd angle. Amir could clearly picture the type of accident that caused this damage and understood the customer’s need for loose-legged pants after such an ordeal. He also noticed a greenish bruise poking out from under the guy’s partially rolled up sleeve, as well.

“I think it’s just the hanger that’s busted,” Ken said. “What style is this…Uh, I might have this in stock, but let me double-check.” He hopped up and dashed into his workshop.

The customer frowned in mild concern. Amir put up a reassuring hand. “Ken tries to have at least one of everything on hand. Should be fine. I wouldn’t worry about it, Mister…um…”

“Yu,” said the customer. “Jae-sun Yu. Most people just call me Jae, though.”

“I’m Amir, which is also what people call me,” Amir said with a friendly smile.

Jae chuckled. “Nice to meet you. Uh…do I need to fill out any paperwork?”

“Oh, yeah, just one sheet though. Here, I’ll get it.” Amir went back behind the counter and opened the appropriate drawer. “You can start to fill it out, but I’d wait until Ken comes back before you do the whole thing. If he needs to order the piece then that’s something we need to note.”

“Okay,” said Jae. As he wrote down his name and contact information, Amir took another look at the bike to see if anything else needed repairing. The wheels were fine, the chain was intact despite its mangled state, and the frame was scuffed and scratched from use but was otherwise fine.