[ Come now, it isn't that Michel actually drives his father's old Renault 12 anymore, it's outdated and better suited for a vintage show, naturally, but his groundskeeper certainly drives the thing, with Michel's approval - ah, just as old times, and now it's broken down and one thing is how he'll have to invest in a new car for the man, if it can't be fixed... Another thing altogether is that the car was his father's and it's kept in pristine condition along with everything else that Michel has hidden away and saved for prosperity, tennis rackets strung with cat gut and so on.
So, he'd called on the only person he knows who deals in any kind of specialised car repairs, although of a slightly different kind - race car the Renault 12 certainly is not, and luckily the man is a client whose ass Michel has saved on multiple occasions, meaning he could make some demands without having to pay back in kind. Ewan had promised to send his best and Michel hadn't thought more of it until this morning, when his best was an hour late and, fortunately for him, handsome enough to make up for it just by showing at all.
Now, he's been working away at the car in the garage at the end of the driveway for another hour and Michel is, if not curious about the car because he's not that invested at the end of the day, even as the groundskeeper has been pacing by the open garage doors at least twice already, restlessly, then certainly curious about the boy who's apparently Ewan's best.
Meaning, he's made Fabiola produce a jug of chilled lemonade that Michel himself places carefully on a tray with two glasses and a small glass bowl of peanuts. It's end of August, salted things are good for the heat. Stepping in through the side door of the garage with his tray and what not, Michel looks out the open garage doors through which a slight breeze, not nearly cool enough, is wafting. The groundskeeper is about to walk past once more, but as he spots Michel, he quickly turns on his heel and disappears off to do his work. ]
If you're making progress on that old piece of junk, you deserve a break. And if you're not, I believe you deserve a break even more.
[ He places the tray on the broad countertop near the back of the garage, where the groundskeeper keeps his tools and his appliances. There, he waits. ]
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So, he'd called on the only person he knows who deals in any kind of specialised car repairs, although of a slightly different kind - race car the Renault 12 certainly is not, and luckily the man is a client whose ass Michel has saved on multiple occasions, meaning he could make some demands without having to pay back in kind. Ewan had promised to send his best and Michel hadn't thought more of it until this morning, when his best was an hour late and, fortunately for him, handsome enough to make up for it just by showing at all.
Now, he's been working away at the car in the garage at the end of the driveway for another hour and Michel is, if not curious about the car because he's not that invested at the end of the day, even as the groundskeeper has been pacing by the open garage doors at least twice already, restlessly, then certainly curious about the boy who's apparently Ewan's best.
Meaning, he's made Fabiola produce a jug of chilled lemonade that Michel himself places carefully on a tray with two glasses and a small glass bowl of peanuts. It's end of August, salted things are good for the heat. Stepping in through the side door of the garage with his tray and what not, Michel looks out the open garage doors through which a slight breeze, not nearly cool enough, is wafting. The groundskeeper is about to walk past once more, but as he spots Michel, he quickly turns on his heel and disappears off to do his work. ]
If you're making progress on that old piece of junk, you deserve a break. And if you're not, I believe you deserve a break even more.
[ He places the tray on the broad countertop near the back of the garage, where the groundskeeper keeps his tools and his appliances. There, he waits. ]