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How I Finally Got Lucky

How I Finally Got Lucky

The smell of gas and oil filtered through my nostrils as I walked into the garage.  I have to admit that I have always enjoyed the smell.  It is one of my little quirks I suppose.  I guess working here won’t be too bad, I think to myself.

I don’t actually have the job yet, but hey I can try to be positive for once in my life. Self confidence, huh, in nineteen years I haven’t even come close to attaining that yet. I’m getting good at faking it though.

“Can I help you?” asks a man in dark blue overalls.

I quickly shake myself from my thoughts and answer, “Oh hi. I’m Lucky.”

I stick out my hand and give him my best fake smile. Think positive, I tell myself over and over again. 

He nods his head in recognition and takes my hand. “Right, you’re here for the interview?” he questions with out really needing an answer. He turns and walks to a door with office written on the frosted glass. Well, maybe not frosted, I guess it is just dirty. I don’t do windows or any kind of cleaning really, so I hope that isn’t part of the job description.

“Dom your twelve o’clock interview is here,” the man says to the man in the office.

I don’t hear any response, but the man in the overalls turns and ushers me into the room. He closes the door and I’m left with who I’m only assuming is Dom. He’s sitting at the desk reading something or other inside a file folder. The first thing I notice is his arms. Wow. He’s wearing a similar set of blue overalls, but the shirt part is unzipped and tied around his waist leaving him in only a crisp white wife beater. He has a tattoo on his left arm, it’s a shamrock. How ironic, I think to myself, I’m Lucky and he’s got a tattoo of a shamrock. Must be destiny right? No, I’ve never believed in that crap.

He looks up and I get my first glimpse at his warm chocolate brown eyes. His whole demeanor says badass, but his eyes are soft and inviting. There’s a scar over his right eyebrow, how Dylan McKay and sexy as hell.

“You’re here about the job,” he says. It’s not really a question and he doesn’t wait for an answer. “Have a seat.”

I sit down silently in the old battered chair across from him. He reaches over for a piece of paper that I recognize as my resume. It’s barely a resume really. It’s full of high school and college information, classes, clubs and such, not really anything important. There’s exactly three lines dedicated to the only job I’ve ever had. I’ve been working at the same business since I was fifteen. I started as a cashier, but was promoted to an “office clerk” a year later. I use the term office clerk loosely because the job itself was hardly anything even remotely that professional, although this place doesn’t look exactly professional either. 

“So you’re interested in the office position?” he asks as he scans the paper.

“Yes,” I answer. Why else would I be here? I think. Yeah I like the smell, but come on that’s not really a reason to stop by.

He looks up and stares at me for an uncomfortable amount of time with those intense eyes. I’m going to blush I know it. I’m going to look like a little school girl. Why did I even bother to apply? I’m nineteen, inexperienced, uneducated and definitely blushing.

“Okay, when can you start?” he asks casually.

Am I hearing things? Is he offering me the job or is this a hypothetical question? He better not be getting my hopes up because that would be just cruel. I need to stop having conversations with myself. 

“Um, well I can start tomorrow, but I’m not sure if your hours will work with my schedule. There was nothing in the ad that mentioned when you needed help. It just said part-time help wanted,” I babble. Great you idiot, like he doesn’t know what he put in his own ad, I scold myself.

“Well what’s your schedule Miss Michaels?” he asks in an almost uninterested voice. 

“Um, I still work at my other job Mondays and Fridays from three to nine, so I can come in before that, but when school starts I won’t be available on those days. As for Tuesdays through Thursdays I can work whenever for right now. When school starts in September I’m available Tuesdays and Thursdays after ten o’clock and Wednesdays after twelve,” I finish quietly. He’s not interested. I’m not even sure if he’s listening.

“Do you work Saturdays?” he questions.

“Yes,” I answer. Concise, short answers, stop babbling, I coach myself.

“Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow morning at eight,” he says.

“Um okay,” I reply. I got the job? What do I do now? Get up, I order myself. “Thank you.”

He gives me a brief nod as I get out of my chair. I really got the job. I really am Lucky.


Lucky! Yeah, right! What the hell was I thinking?

It’s now officially 12:01 AM. I’m usually asleep long before eleven, but tonight I am way too wired. I don’t have any experience working in an auto body shop! I know it’s just office work, but none of the experience I have translates into something even remotely helpful. I’m used to answering the phone, taking orders, counting deposits and filing. The only two things in the list that I assume will come in handy will be answering the phone and filing. A monkey could do those things, probably quicker and more efficiently than me! Dom is going to think I’m an idiot and fire me the first day. I’ve never been fired before. This is great, just great!

It’s now 12:03 AM. I’m screwed.


“Answer the phone. If they ask for someone specifically page that person. If not page me,” Dom explains. Then he turns to leave with out another word.

“Wait! What else do you want me to do?” I ask. I need some direction here buddy, you are the boss if you didn’t notice, I think sarcastically. He has worse people skills than me.

“Whatever you think you can,” he answers simply not even bothering to turn around as he leaves. 

“Great,” I say under my breath.

I walk around the desk and take the seat he had been in when he first interviewed me. It’s just as old and battered as the other chair only it’s much more comfortable. Its old leather is soft and it’s on wheels, which of course is a blessing and a curse. I love chairs on wheels because I tend to roll around the office instead of getting up, yeah I’m lazy, as predicted though I nearly fell out of the chair trying to take a seat. I’m a slight klutz. I have the bruises to prove it.

I look at the contents on the desktop. My god I’m going to drown in paper work. There is stuff everywhere and I don’t really know what any of it is. I look at the dinosaur in the left hand corner of the desk. Oh yeah that’s going to be a state of the art high speed machine, I think as I boot it up. Next, I roll myself over to the filing cabinets. Hopefully I can figure out which one is for receivables and which one is for payables. Is that part of my job? I wonder. I feel the pressure in my head begin to worsen as I get a look at the “filing system”. I really am going to drown or maybe it will be death by paper cuts. I can see the headlines now.


“You finally hired some office help. It’s a miracle,” Chris scoffs.

“Don’t you have work to do?” Dom counters.

“Hey I’m just saying since you opened this place two years ago you’ve been handling the office. Now suddenly a little cute school girl comes in and you hire her. Dude she was your first interview,” Chris shoots back.

“I don’t have time to do a million interviews. If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out,” he answers. 

“Sure,” Chris responds sarcastically.


“Nickie’s Auto Body,” I say in my best fake cheerful voice. The phone has been ringing off the hook since nine thirty. How am I supposed to get any work done? Not like I’ve really figured out what I’m doing yet, but still. “Dom line one,” I say into the intercom. 

It’s almost twelve and I still don’t even know what time I’m suppose to stay until. I’ve already had to bug Dom twice about billing questions from customers who called. I don’t feel comfortable giving answers to customers yet even though I knew both answers, but what if I had been wrong? Great here he comes. What if he’s disappointed that I haven’t gotten much done? What if he fires me before I even put in a full day? Why do I care? Is this job even worth it? I don’t even know how much money I’m making! I need to stop having these freak outs in my mind. Can you say obsessive compulsive?

He walks in and drops a load of mail on my desk. I can already tell this place does much more business than my other job and has, oh, one seventh the employees in the office. This gets better by the second.

“We ordered pizza for lunch if you want some it should be here in fifteen minutes,” he says simply. He turns and walks out before I can even give him an answer. 

I brought my lunch and I don’t think my stomach could really handle pizza right now, but maybe I should join them anyways. I don’t want them to think I’m a snob, but I really should keep working. I have to remember to bring aspirin tomorrow. Am I working tomorrow?


I worked through lunch and now it’s almost dinner time. He’s headed this way. He’s probably going to check to see what I’ve done. Great.

“You’re still here?” he asks. He’s leaning against the door jam casually and I want to get up and smack him.

Am I still here?! He’s joking right? How am I supposed to know when to go home? Or why Lori Holly is filed under M? Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to explain these things?!

“Um yeah,” I answer timidly. I may want to smack some sense into him, but he’s still my boss. I think.

“You can go. Leave the computer on,” he says as he walks away.

Do I come back tomorrow? My brain screams.

I put away what I was working on and gather up my stuff to go. Maybe I should ask him some of the questions that have been driving me insane, I think. Whatever. I want to go home.


It’s been three months since I started working here. I come in and work whenever I feel like it. I still don’t have a schedule, which is nice because school can get hectic at times.

I’ve figured out how to do almost every task in here, which I think impressed Dom because I got a significant raise about a month after I started. I’m making more money than I ever thought I would. I really did get Lucky.

“Do you play poker?” Dom asks. He never ceases to surprise me. His few words per day always manage to confuse or stun me.

“Um, not really. I’ve watched Celebrity Poker on E!,” I answer honestly. I doubt he even knows what E! is. He doesn’t seem like a person who watches much TV.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he asks.

“Well, I have to go to my Grandmother’s house for dinner, but I can get out of there by six,” I reply. Great tell him you have to go to your Grandma’s house. How cool am I?

“Ronnie can’t make it to poker night. Do you want to fill in for him?” he asks casually.

“Is it hard?” I question. I hate this, every conversation we have that is over five seconds long I start to blush. Why does he have to stare?

“You’ll catch on quick,” he replies matter-of-factly.

“Okay,” I answer. I can’t really get out of it now. I’ve never been a good liar. I couldn’t just tell him I have to wash my hair or something, could I? Damn it.

“Good. Be at my house at around seven,” he says.

I nod my head and he leaves. No big deal. His house is right around the corner form the shop. I walked up there to get his little sister off the bus once. Usually he does it, but he had to be at the bank that afternoon. She was the most adorable thing I had ever seen. She had curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was completely opposite from Dom in every way. She talked a mile a minute and told me her whole life story in the five minutes it took to walk her to Aunt Patty’s house. Aunt Patty owned the neighborhood daycare. She made sure I knew she was eight, not seven and that she was a big girl, not a little baby. I have always wondered why Dom takes care of her, but I’ve never asked. We’re not really friends.

So, poker at Dom’s house with the guys from work, this should be interesting.


Should I change my outfit? Will anyone notice? Will they think it’s weird if I show up wearing something different, like I’m trying to impress someone? Who would I want to impress? That’s it. I’m not changing. What’s the point? The guys all have questionable hygiene at best anyways, so I’ll just shower and wear what I wore to work.

My stomach is doing flip flops. I never really talk to any of the guys. I pretty much stay in the office and work. Not because I don’t like them or anything, but I just don’t have the time. Between school, my other job and the garage I have no time to waste socializing.

Socializing. Now there’s a scary thought. It’s not anything I’ve ever really been good at. It goes back to my lack of self confidence again I suppose.

“Okay you can do this. Great now I’m talking to myself out loud,” I scold myself.


“Get rid of those two,” Dom coaches me. He’s helping me the first couple of hands, but I think I’m getting the gist of it.

“Okay,” I reply. It’s hard to concentrate with him being so close. He keeps brushing his hand against my thigh, but I’m not sure if it’s on purpose or not. I just realized he’s definitely born to be a poker player; he has the facial expressions of a champion.

“Dominic,” Lola coos from the stairs, “Are you going to come read to me?” She suddenly realizes I’m sitting next to Dom and squeals with delight. “Lucky! Never mind Dominic I want Lucky to read to me!”

She rushes over and takes my hand. As she drags me up the stairs to her bedroom she tells me all about the new Junie B. Jones book she got for her birthday.

After reading a short chapter of Junie’s newest adventure to Lola she is ready to go to sleep. I leave the night light on like she asks and tuck her in.

As I walk to the door I hear her ask, “Lucky, are you my brother’s girlfriend?”

“No sweetie we’re just friends,” I answer somewhat honestly. We’re not really friends, but she’s too young to understand that.

“Oh. Dominic never has a girlfriend,” she says with a sigh.

“I’m sure he’ll find a special girl one day,” I answer. What else am I suppose to say?

“Do you think he’ll get married and have kids so I can be an auntie?” she asks. I can tell by the excitement in her voice that she wants me to say yes.

“Well,” I begin, “I’m sure…”

I’m interrupted by an arm wrapping around my waist, a warm, strong, safe arm.

“Lola are you stalling?” Dom asks. He knows his little sister well and if she thinks she can even stay up for three extra minutes she’ll jump at the chance.

“Who me?” she asks almost innocently, but her silly giggle gives the truth away.

“Of course not,” Dom says with smile. I’ve never seen him smile like that before. I don’t remember ever really seeing him smile. He removes his arm from my waist and walks to the bed. 

“Goodnight,” he says as he leans down and gives her a kiss on the forehead.

“Goodnight Dominic. Goodnight Lucky,” she answers sweetly.

“Sweet dreams Lola,” I reply. She really is adorable, and suddenly so is he.


I’m not really sure how this happened. Poker lasted until around midnight and Dom told me I could sleep over instead of driving home. Next thing I knew instead of sleeping on the couch I was climbing into bed with him. I wasn’t drunk or anything. I don’t drink.

All I know is that it is seven in the morning, it’s Sunday and Dominic is holding me tightly from behind. I guess I can’t run. Not that I would.

“Dominic,” Lola squeals as she comes rushing into the room, “you promised you’d make pancakes!”

She stops short and smirks when she sees me. “Hi Lucky,” she says with a huge grin on her face.

“Hi Lola,” I answer shyly.

“What are you doing?” she questions innocently.

How the hell do I answer that? Not with the truth obviously.

“Go watch cartoons and I’ll make pancakes in a minute,” Dom says suddenly. I tense at the sound of his voice. This is weird.

“Okay, but if you’re not out of bed in five minutes I’m coming back,” Lola threatens with her hands on her hips.

“Got it,” Dom answers.

She closes the door behind her and I feel Dom’s hand slip down my stomach. I have to get out of here. What the hell was I thinking? I love my job. This is going to be too awkward.

“Morning,” he whispers.

“Hey,” I reply. Hey? Who the hell says hey?

“I have to go make those pancakes or she will be back,” Dom says with a little disappointment in his voice as he kisses my neck softly.

“’Kay,” I answer. What else am I suppose to say? What did I get myself into now?

“If you want to sleep a little longer you can,” he says as he slips out of bed.

“No, I’m fine. Actually I should get going,” I respond quickly while scanning the room for my clothes.

“You sure you don’t want to stay for pancakes?” he asks.

“I’d love to, but I have to work this afternoon at my other job and I have a ton of stuff to do before I go in,” I reply. I need to get out of here. Since when does he talk this much?

“Okay,” he responds. We finish dressing in silence.

“Um, I’ll see you Tuesday,” I tell him as I walk towards the door.

“Yeah Tuesday,” I hear him mumble as I slip out the door.


“What the hell was I thinking?” I ask my best friend Jenna.

“He’s hot. What else was there to think about?” she asks confused.

“He’s my boss. I don’t even know him that well. I’ve been working with the guy for three months and I know like three things about him: he owns his own business, he’s raising his little sister on his own and he can make pancakes,” I explain.

“Those are all good qualities in a man,” she answers between spoonfuls of ice cream. “Maybe he really likes you. Maybe you’ll get together, get married, and have a couple of kids.”

“What fantasy world are you living in?” I ask harshly. “He doesn’t seem like the kind of man to settle down. I mean Lola said he never has a girlfriend. I think he’s the type of guy who doesn’t do serious. Which is fine, but how should I act now? Do I pretend that it never happened? I don’t want to make a big deal out of it if it wasn’t a big deal to him,” I babble.

“You know just because he hasn’t had a girlfriend doesn’t mean anything,” Jenna replies. “I mean you’ve never had a boyfriend. Hell, you’ve never even been on a date,” she adds to prove her point.

“Thanks for reminding me,” I answer sarcastically.

“No problem buddy,” she answers with a smirk.

“No matter what way I look at it I’m screwed,” I say.

“Yup, you were screwed alright,” Jenna replies mischievously.

“Very funny,” I respond as I flick a blob of ice cream at her.


I finally decided that I’m just going to go to work and follow his lead. If he wants to forget about it then so will I and if he doesn’t, then neither will I. I can do this, I think over and over again as I walk into the garage.

“Hey guys,” I say cheerfully. I get a few hellos and a couple of grunts back in response.

Dominic puts the tool he’s working with down and wipes off his hands when I walk in. Did I mention that I don’t know anything about cars and even less about the tools they use? I told him he forgot his wrench in the office once and he looked at me in amazement, or maybe disgust. Apparently there is a big difference between a wrench and an electric drill. Whatever. “Hey,” he greets me. As usual I can’t read his expression. Damn him.

I smile at him and continue walking towards the office. I hear his footsteps close behind me and I feel my heart beat begin to pick up. He could at least give me five minutes to settle in, this is weird enough already.

I walk into the office and take my seat behind the desk. He comes in right behind me and closes the door quietly.

“I promised Lola I would take her out for dinner tonight. She was wondering if you want to come with us,” he says in an indifferent voice. Is he really asking me to go or is she? Rascally rabbit. Rascally rabbit? I’ve officially lost it.

“Um, yeah sure,” I answer. I’m just following his lead.

“Okay. We’ll leave here at about five to pick up Lola,” he states.

“Alright,” I answer.


“So was it a date?” Jenna asks me curiously the next morning before work.

“Well, we went to Twist, which isn’t exactly somewhere you take an eight year old to dinner,” I answer.

“But she still came, so it still may not be a “real” date,” she says understanding my dilemma.

“Exactly, but after dinner we went back to his house and put Lola to bed,” I add.

“And?” she asks with a smirk in her voice.

Even over the phone I can see her face in my mind. She’s easy to read. When she’s angry she looks angry. When she’s happy she looks happy. Why can’t Dom be that easy to read?

“And then we went down stairs…” I pause for dramatic suspense. This is driving her nuts I know it. She’s not even normally up at this time. If it weren’t for curiosity she wouldn’t be awake for another four hours or so.

“Then we went into his room. Then around eleven he walked me down to my car. It was really sweet. He kissed me goodnight,” I say in a girly sigh.

“Aw,” Jenna replies.

“Whatever,” I answer. Maybe this could be something real.


It’s been six months since we started this thing, Dom and I. I wasn’t sure if it was serious until Thanksgiving when he and Lola came to my parent’s house for dinner. They came to all of our Christmas festivities too. If he can deal with my family, than he must be serious about this.

It’s taken a while, but he’s becoming much more open with me. I finally asked why Lori Holly is filed under M. She was divorced last year and after everything was finalized she decided to change her name back to her maiden name.

Lola and I have become good pals. Every Saturday morning she and I spend quality time together just us girls.

Sunday night is date night. It’s the one night a week Dom and I spend alone. It’s great, but neither of us really mind spending time with Lola.

For once in my life I really do feel Lucky.


I’ve finally finished college. After five years of relentless studying I am now finally a college graduate with a master’s degree and CPA. I’m going for my first job interview tomorrow at a major accounting firm in the city.

Four years ago I would have been petrified and sleep wouldn’t even be in my schedule. That’s not who I am anymore. If Dom has taught me anything it’s that I can do whatever I want. From the first day he knew he could trust me to do the job he hired me for. I’m still not sure why, but he has always had faith in me. His faith in me has made me the self confident person I have always wanted to become.

The job interview is going to be a breeze compared to June 25th. It’s the four year anniversary of when I started working at Nickie’s Auto Body and it’s also our wedding date. We’ve been engaged for three years now. He was always so sure, I wasn’t. I still can’t believe that we’re getting married sometimes. It seems almost like a dream, a perfect dream that I’m desperately clinging to. Then he wraps his arms around me and I realize that no dream could ever be this good.



Oct. 28th, 2007 10:19 pm (UTC)
Thank you.

I agree. I had a hard time ending it. Maybe I should have left the last part out completely.

Lol Ugly Betty is actually a TV show I was watching at the time.


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