When Sunday morning came, Lucy had fell asleep on a creeper when she was suddenly awakened by a knock on the door.

She looks at the clock. It's 7 in the morning. Who could it be?

"Lucy! Your order is here." shouted Tony.

Lucy opened the garage door and let them in.

"You work fast. Didn't expect you to be here so soon."

"Sign here and we'll be done."

Lucy signs any necessary documents and hands Tony the cash for what she ordered as Tony's co-workers bring in the stuff. Tony pockets the cash.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

When they all left, Lucy immediately got to work. She started cutting the steel to match the car parts. That alone took the morning and afternoon away.

She then had to stick the cut plates on Carlo's car. One by one, she placed them as carefully as she could.

When she was done, she looked at the clock. 10 pm. All she had to do now was replace the windows.

"Screw that. I don't need sleep." she said to herself.

She then made herself 3 cups of coffee and got to work again after a short break. The process was the same. Cut the glass and replace it.

When she was done, she looked at the clock one more time. 5:15 am.

"Finally."

After a 4 hour nap, she finally found the energy to call Carlo. She dials his number.

"Good morning. Your car is all ready to go. Come by when you have time."

The streets of Motor City never slept—factories roared, men hustled, and deals were made in places where the law didn’t reach. Tucked away on a quiet stretch of East Grand Boulevard, Lucy’s Motorworks looked like just another grease-stained garage. But inside, it was a different story.

Tony Soprano pulled up in a black 1928 Cadillac, engine purring as he parked outside. With a flick of his cigar, he stepped out, adjusting his coat against the cold. This wasn’t just a social visit—this was business, and business meant cleaning up a mess.

Inside, the shop was alive with the sounds of mechanics at work—wrenches clanking, engines revving, the thick smell of oil and gasoline filling the air. But Tony wasn’t looking at the mechanics. His eyes were on Lucy, leaning against a workbench, wiping the grease from her hands.

She didn’t look surprised to see him. “Not every day a guy like you walks into my shop.”

Tony smirked, tapping the ash from his cigar. “You know how it is, Lucy. Carrara Crew don’t do business with just anybody.” He took a slow look around. “And I gotta say, you set yourself up nice here. Heard you handle certain… special requests.”

Lucy tilted her head. “Depends on who’s askin’.”

Tony motioned to the bay doors. “I got something in my trunk. Something that needs to be gone. For good.”

Lucy raised an eyebrow. “Car or body?”

Tony smirked. “Both.”

She sighed, tossing her rag onto the workbench. “How bad?”

Tony took a slow drag of his cigar before exhaling. “Some two-bit bum thought he could borrow from me, then skip town without paying. I had to remind him how things work in Detroit.” He shrugged. “Now I got a problem that needs solving. The car? Belongs to him. The body? Well… that stays with the car.”

Lucy nodded, motioning to one of her guys. “Pull it around back. I’ll take care of it.”

Tony grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “You know, this kinda work? It ain’t free, Tony.”

Tony chuckled. “Lucy, you work for the family. You know you’ll be taken care of. And besides—business like this? It don’t just come once. You do this right, you got yourself a steady side business.”

Lucy studied him for a moment before nodding. “Fine. But next time? It’ll cost you more.”

Tony reached into his coat, pulled out a wad of cash, and tossed it onto the workbench. “Consider this a deposit.”

Lucy smirked, pocketing the money. “Pleasure doing business, Tony.”

Tony gave her a nod, stepping toward the door. As he left, he glanced back over his shoulder. Lucy’s Motorworks wasn’t just a garage anymore—it was part of the machine. And in Detroit, if you weren’t part of the machine? You got crushed.

When it was closing time, Lucy immediately went around the back to take care of Tony's car. She drove to some woods, miles away from town. Then she got a shovel and started digging. minutes turned to hours, till she finally dug a big hole to fit in the body. When she opened the trunk, the stench hit her nose hard, but it was all part of the job. She threw the body in the hole and covered it with as much dirt as she had dug out.

Now it was time for the car. That would be easier. She had a crusher so she drove to the junkyard and crushed it.

She took a cab home and dialed Tony's number.

"The dishes are done."

The phone rang once, twice, before Tony picked up, the dim glow of his desk lamp flickering over a half-empty glass of Scotch.

He leaned back in his chair, cigar hanging from his lips, listening as Lucy’s voice came through the line—calm, professional, straight to the point.

"The dishes are done."

Tony smirked, taking a slow drag of his cigar, exhaling the smoke before speaking.

“Good.” His voice was low, even.

He reached over, flicking open a notepad, crossing off a name with a satisfied stroke of his pen.

"I knew I could count on you, Lucy." He swirled the Scotch in his glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light.

A brief pause. Then, his tone lightened, just a little.

"Get some rest. You earned it."

Then, with a click, he hung up the phone—business handled, just the way he liked it.

Dreams wanted a new car, his was getting old and was breaking down and he knew Lucy in Detroit was the one to do it. He was also hoping that he could maybe junk his current car and get some money back so he brought it with him. As he arrived he parked in the designated spot for customers and walked inside.

He looked around and saw many nice cars but he was no gureau, he walked towards the counter and said "Hello, is Lucy around do you know? I am looking for a new car and I have heard she is the very best at this?

He was told that she was currently serving a customer so he took a seat as he patiently waited for her to become available.

"I think we are just about done here sir. Just go a little easier on the gas next time." Lucy said.

"Thank you. You know when it made that noise I thought it was gonna explode or something. How much do I owe you?"

"150 dollars."

"Ouch. Oh well. Here you go." the customer said, handing over the cash.

"Sorry sir. Engine repairs don't come cheap." she said as the customer got in his car.

Lucy returns to the counter and greets Dreams.

"Hey look who it is! I heard you asked for me. Uhh why don't you go take a break for a while Mick. I got things from here."

Mick was Lucy's brand new receptionist. He didn't really like being there but he didn't mind the extra cash he was making. When Lucy told him to take a break, his face lit up.

"Sure thing boss!" he said, making his way to the staff room where Ralph was also sitting.

"So... Now that we are alone, what can I help you with?"

Jelly Viterelli also known as The Architect,because of his favorite disposal method which almost always includes a bridge,has been away from hometown for quite a long time,taking care of Ligambis family undersirable..ya know..rats,traitors and witnesses,having a successful long standing career in such bussiness.As he drived back home through Detroit,he saw a new joint called Lucy's Motors.

Unexpectledly,Jelly yells at his driver: Stop right here Toto',i wanna check something.

As he enters the workshop he greets Lucy,one of Bossman Nuccio's hands,thefore a trusty member of Detroit's finest.

Good day Lucy,i heard only rumors from our common friend Mr. N that you opened a bussiness here in Detroit,interested in using your services.I used to know your mother Luciana,she worked with me in the past,God rest her soul.Happy to see you walk in her footsteps.

Now tell me,how about a remote car?I have to take out a corrupt politician who recently decided not to back us anymore.Quite a new and risky assigment,thefore i wanna do it clean,even if it's zippo style.

Let's fill in the details,shall we?

Lucy couldn't believe in her own eyes. The very man that ran Corktown was right before her. She couldn't help but get a little bit nervous.

"D-Don Viterelli! It is so good to finally meet you!"

Lucy tosses the rag that was over her shoulder onto the chair beside her and listens to Jelly's request.

"So... You are not here because of a flat tire eh? Yeah I'd imagine. Just give me a moment."

Lucy excuses herself and goes to her office. She then comes back with a rather heavy but small wooden box. She puts it on the counter, looks around to make sure none of her mechanics were about and finally opens it, revealing a fistful of remotely controlled bombs.

"7 grand per bomb. I know it is a little expensive but it's the latest and greatest. At least on the open market. If you want the whole box, it's got 6 bombs inside, enough to blow up a whole building if you ask me. That would make it 42k, but I will lower it down to 37k, because it's you."

Lucy sealed the box once again and pushes it aside.

"Alright... That's about it. Would you like me to do a quick demonstration of how these things work? We are not blowing anything up of course, I'll just show you how to wire it and stick it. Unless... You already know how they work that is."

The streets of Detroit never stopped moving—hustlers, factory workers, and men like Tony Soprano made sure of that. Tonight was no different. His black Ford Model A rolled up to Lucy’s Motorworks, another unwanted car, another problem that needed fixing.

Tony stepped out, adjusting his coat against the cold, flicking his cigar into the dirt as he saw Lucy already waiting, leaning against a workbench.

"Another one, Tony? Business must be booming." She wiped her hands on a grease-stained rag, eyeing the car he just brought in.

Tony smirked, tapping the hood. "Let’s just say, some guys in Chicago found out the hard way that debts don’t disappear. This one needs to be gone. Just like the last.”

Lucy motioned to one of her mechanics, who nodded and took the car toward the back lot. “Same deal—crushed and scattered?”

Tony nodded, but before she could walk away, he held up a hand. "Actually, while I got you—there’s something else I need."

Lucy crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? What’s that?"

Tony took a slow drag from his cigar, exhaling as he turned toward a sleek black 1933 Cadillac V12 Town Sedan parked near the garage doors.

"That beauty over there? That’s mine. And I need it modified."

Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Modified how?"

Tony stepped closer, lowering his voice. "I got shipments running between Detroit and New York—booze, cigars, and a few extra things that don’t need to be on any manifest. I need hidden compartments, reinforced doors, and a little extra kick under the hood in case we run into trouble."

Lucy smirked. "So, you want a smuggler’s special?"

Tony grinned. "You could say that."

She circled the Cadillac, running her hand along the smooth, polished frame. "Plenty of room in the undercarriage to hollow out some storage. Doors could be lined with compartments too—nothing too flashy, or the feds’ll sniff it out. As for speed? I can tune up the engine, give you some extra horsepower.”

Tony nodded. "I like the sound of that. But I need it done right. If I get stopped, I don’t want some badge tapping on the door and hearing a hollow echo."

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "Tony, you know me. I don’t do sloppy work."

Tony pulled out a fat roll of cash, tossing it onto the workbench. "Then consider this a down payment. Make sure it’s ready by next week."

Lucy pocketed the cash and smirked. "You got it, Soprano. But just so you know—next time? A job like this is gonna cost you extra."

Tony grinned, lighting another cigar as he turned toward the door. "Quality work costs money, Lucy. And I only pay for the best."

As he stepped into the cold Detroit night, the sounds of machinery filled the garage. The game was getting bigger, riskier, and more profitable. And with the right car? Nothing was gonna stop Tony from running his empire across state lines.

Carlo arrived at the shop just as the sun was setting, casting a long shadow over the parking lot. He stepped inside, the smell of oil and metal filling the air, he spotted Lucy wiping her hands with a rag. She smirked as she saw him walking in. 

"Well, well," Carlo said running a hand along the side of the reinforced frame of his car. "I gotta say Lucy, you out did yourself. Looks solid.. but more importantly does it hand like it should?" 

He opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat, feeling the weight of the modifications. the bulletproof windows were spotless and the reinforced body matched up perfectly. 

Carlo gave a satisfied nod. "This is exactly what I needed. You got my money, Lucy, every penny of it. If I ever need more work, I'll be coming back to you." Carlo reached into his coat, pulling out an envelope and handed it over to Lucy. with a smirk, he added. "Now, let's see how she handles on the streets"

After disposing Tony's unwanted car, Lucy calls Ralph.

"Hey it's me. I need you to come down here and work on something."

"Jesus Lucy it's 8pm. Can't it wait until tomorrow?"

"No... No it can't. Listen I know this is a bit sudden. I'd do it myself but I really don't think I have the energy for it. I'll pay you extra for this one. It just has to be now."

"Alright Alright. Can you at least tell me what I'm gonna be doing?"

"Just some tuning... Well... More than some. Just come down here."

"Ok just give me a moment."

While Lucy waited for Ralph to show up, She checked the storage to see if she had any plates left from the last mod job, then made some coffee. She was gonna need it.

When Ralph finally showed up, Lucy immediately handed him a toolbox.

"What? No hello? No how was your day?" Ralph complained.

"Look the sooner we do this the sooner you can go home. There's coffee at the reception if you need it, and I'll be in the back if you need me. Got some iron to cut."

"Alright then. This better be worth the overtime."

"Trust me. It is. That's the car over there. I want you to tune it as much as possible. Don't push your limits. I want it fast but I also want it safe." Lucy said, pointing at Tony's car.

"You got it boss."

Lucy made her way in the back and started cutting the iron plates into the shape of the doors. A couple of hours pass and both Lucy and Ralph are both done.

Lucy emerges from the back room and greets Ralph once again.

"All done?" she asked.

"Sure. I reckon it's at its limit."

"Let me hear it." Lucy said as she threw the keys to him.

With no hesitation, Ralph got into the driver's seat and started the engine. A loud but very satisfying roar is what came next.

"Ralph you son of a bitch you've done it again!" Lucy said with a wide smile.

Ralph turned the engine off and glanced back at Lucy.

"Boss I really gotta ask... What are you doing here working this late on this specific car?"

Lucy sighed and took out 6 grand from her pocket and handed it to Ralph.

"That's a conversation for another time."

Ralph stood in silence and stared at the wad of cash Lucy had just handed him. Lucy shook her head and added another grand.

"Go home. I'll see you tomorrow. " she said.

Ralph nodded and headed out the door. Lucy drank a cup of coffee and began to work on the hidden compartments. In just 5 hours, she managed to make space for each door, as well as under the driver seat and in the undercarriage. She looked at the clock. It was way too late to keep working, so she lied on a nearby creeper and slept until the opening shift.

The next night Lucy got to work on making Tony's car a tank. She got the iron plates she had cut the previous night and one by one, she stuck them in. While she was in the middle of sticking the last plate, she heard a knock on the door. She grabbed her luger and slowly creeped towards the door, making sure whoever was outside didn't see her.

It was a policeman! She hid the gun under the counter behind some oil cans and opened the door.

"What the hell are you doing at this hour? We've gotten so many noise complaints we just couldn't ignore them anymore!" he said.

"Ah sorry officer! I'm just working a late night shift is all."

"Late night shift? It's 11pm!"

"Look I am almost done ok? Just give me like 5 more minutes."

"This is very suspicious. I'm gonna need to have a look inside."

Lucy got very aggressive as she blocked the man's way. She couldn't afford this waste of time.

"No you don't! Where the fuck is your warrant eh?!"

"I don't have one."

"Then you better get the fuck outta here."

"Oh that's how you want to play? How about I arrest you for disturbing the peace?"

"I'll be quiet... Don't you worry." Lucy said with a sarcastic smile as she slammed the door shut.

When the coast was clear, Lucy did the final touches as quietly as she could.

"Alright... Time for the ultimate test." she said.

She grabbed a sledgehammer and hit one of the reinforced doors as hard as she could. It barely makes a dent.

"Good luck ramming this bad boy off the road."

Lucy drove the car into the back lot, where none of her mechanics could accidentally see it, then went to the counter to pick up her gun and closed shop for the day. The car was ready. All she had to do now was call Tony. And the next morning, that's exactly what she did.

"Your car is all ready to go. Come over when you get the time yeah?"

The sun had barely risen over Detroit’s industrial skyline when Tony steered his black Packard toward Lucy’s Motorworks. The night’s cold still clung to the air, mixing with the familiar scent of oil, rubber, and gasoline.

Tony pulled into the back lot, noticing how Lucy had kept his Cadillac tucked away from prying eyes. Smart. That’s why he trusted her.

He stepped out, adjusting his coat, cigar already burning between his fingers as he pushed through the garage doors.

Inside, the place was quiet—most of the mechanics hadn’t shown up yet. Just Lucy, standing near the counter, waiting.

“Mornin’, T.” she said, grabbing the keys off the workbench and tossing them his way. “Your Caddy’s ready.”

Tony caught the keys mid-air, smirking. “That so? Lemme see it.”

Lucy led him toward the back lot, where the black Cadillac V12 Town Sedan sat gleaming in the low light. It looked the same as when he dropped it off, but Tony knew better. It wasn’t about the looks—it was about what was under the hood.

He ran a hand along the smooth metal, giving a slow nod of approval. “Tell me what you did.”

Lucy smirked. “Where do I start? Reinforced doors, undercarriage, and driver’s seat—this thing’s a tank. Hidden compartments in each door, plus an extra stash under the seat and one under the chassis.”

Tony exhaled a slow drag from his cigar, nodding. “Good, good… and the engine?”

Lucy crossed her arms. “Ralph tuned it up—pushed it as much as possible without killing it. You got speed, but you ain’t gonna break it on the first run.”

Tony chuckled. “Ralph do all this bitchin’ the whole time?”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Like a damn housewife, but he got it done.”

Tony stepped toward the car, opening the driver’s door and settling into the leather seat. He turned the ignition, and the engine roared to life, a deep, powerful growl that spoke of American muscle mixed with Lucy’s expertise.

He revved the engine once, twice, then shut it off, stepping back out.

“Yeah… this’ll do just fine.”

Lucy smirked, wiping grease off her hands. “So, what’s the first job? Smuggling or muscle work?”

Tony took another slow pull of his cigar, exhaling as he patted the roof of the Cadillac.

“Both. First, I’m running a shipment through Chicago—boxcar 732, main train hub. Tommy guns, Colts, sawed-offs, and some high-dollar jewelry. I don’t need no hiccups.”

Lucy nodded. “And the loan sharking?”

Tony grinned. “This car ain’t just a mule—it’s insurance. Somebody don’t pay what they owe in Detroit? I pull up in this beauty, and they get the message real quick.”

Lucy smirked, knowing damn well the kind of message Tony meant.

Tony reached into his coat, pulled out a thick stack of bills, and handed it to her.

“Consider this a bonus. If this car keeps me outta trouble, there’s more where that came from.”

Lucy took the cash, flipping through the crisp bills before stuffing them in her pocket.

“You ever need another one done, you know where to find me.”

Tony smirked, stepping back toward the car, opening the door, and settling inside once more.

He took one last drag of his cigar before flicking it onto the pavement.

“Oh, I got a feeling we’re just getting started, Lucy.”

With that, the Cadillac roared to life once more, and Tony pulled out onto the streets of Detroit, ready to put his new machine to work.

It was a busy day in the streets of Detroit and especially for Lucy's motorworks.

Across the street stood a woman, just staring at the business from afar. The wind got stronger as it gently lifted her unzipped jacket a couple of inches. It was about 1pm in the afternoon. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a carton of premium cigarettes. As she was about to light one, she looked at the carton, before tossing it on the street.

A stranger approached her, seemingly angry at her.

"Excuse me..." he said.

The woman looked the other way, hoping he would go away.

"Hey! I'm talking to you lady!"

She glanced at him and slightly tilted her head to the left.

"Do you know what you just threw? Those are premium cigarettes!"

The woman beckoned him to come closer. Then she snatched his hand.

"What are you-"

She forced his hand to feel whatever was inside her inner jacket's pocket. The man's face suddenly turned pale.

"Do you know what you just touched?" she asked.

"A-... A-... A gun?"

She then forced his hand onto her stomach, where a patched up gunshot wound was. She pressed his hand onto her, forcing some blood to spill onto his palm. She then finally let go.

The man quickly pulled his hand away and looked at the blood dripping from his fingers.

"What the..."

"You want those cigarettes? Go fetch them." she said.

"I... I'm..."

"You're leaving." she said.

"Yes that's right! I-I-I'm leaving!" said the man as he started sprinting away.

At that moment, Ralph comes out and drops his entire toolbox, making a mess all over the sidewalk.

"Lucy?! Is that you?!" he shouted.

The woman made her way across the street where she would be hugged by her favorite fat employee, Ralph.

"AH! Easy big guy!!" she said as she got squeezed.

"I saw the news. The newspapers. That shootout. They said you were involved. What happened?! And also what happened to your stomach?"

"I was just... Mistaken for someone else. I fought as hard as I could but they ended up landing a shot on me. I barely got away. But you don't need to worry about me alright? I'll be ok. I came here to finish some paperwork that I was too bored to work on before."

The 2 of them got into the manager's office and Lucy took a seat.

"Are you sure you're gonna be OK? Shouldn't you rest a little more?"

"I'll be fine. Go. You've got work to do so don't let me get in your way."

Ralph stood  still for a moment, as if he was spacing out.

"What's the matter?" Lucy asked.

"It's just that... I didn't know you could shoot a gun."

Lucy leaned forward on her desk and stared Ralph dead in the eye.

"There are some things... You're better off not knowing friend. Now please. Shut the door on your way out."

The black Packard pulled up outside Lucy’s Motorworks, its engine rumbling low before cutting off. Tony Soprano sat in the driver’s seat for a moment, taking in the familiar garage he hadn’t seen in a while. Detroit had changed, but this place? This place still felt the same.

Flicking the ash off his cigar, Tony pushed the door open and stepped out, the smell of oil, grease, and steel mixing with the crisp afternoon air.

Inside, the shop was alive with the sounds of wrenches clanking and engines humming, but something in the atmosphere felt... different. Tense. Quiet. Tony had heard about the shootout, about Lucy getting caught up in something. He wasn’t here to dig into it. He was just here to see an old friend.

As he stepped inside, Ralph looked up first, then Lucy, sitting in the manager’s chair. She was leaning back, a hand resting lightly on her stomach—like she was trying not to show the pain, but Tony caught it.

She looked up, smirking as Tony pulled up a stool and sat down.

"Jesus Christ, Lucy. You take a bullet, and the first thing you do is come back to work?"

Lucy shrugged, leaning back. "What can I say, Tony? The shop don’t run itself."

Tony snorted, shaking his head.

"Yeah, yeah. You always were a stubborn pain in the ass." He gestured at her stomach. "How bad is it?"

Lucy waved a hand, brushing it off. "Just a graze. Hurts like hell, but I’ve had worse."

Tony took a long drag from his cigar, exhaling the smoke before nodding.

"That so? ‘Cause from what I hear, you barely got outta that mess in one piece."

Lucy’s smirk faded slightly. She didn’t respond right away, just studied Tony the way she always did when she knew he was seeing right through her.

"I’ll live, Tony. Ain’t the first time I’ve had to patch myself up. Won’t be the last."

Tony tapped the ash off his cigar, nodding slowly.

"I get that. But still... ya know, not everyone gets nine lives. Maybe, just maybe, take it easy for a bit, yeah?"

Lucy chuckled, shaking her head. "Didn’t think you’d turn into my doctor, Tony."

"Nah, just a friend who knows when someone needs to slow the hell down."

The shop hummed around them, but for a moment, it was just the two of them—old friends, both carrying their scars, neither the type to let life knock ‘em down.

Tony finally stood, adjusting his coat.

"Look, I ain’t here to lecture ya. Just wanted to see how you were holding up. And—" He smirked. "—to remind ya that paperwork ain't a damn good reason to get outta bed with a bullet wound."

Lucy shook her head, smiling. "Noted, Tony. Noted."

With that, he nodded, tipped his cigar in a farewell gesture, and stepped out—leaving behind the scent of smoke, oil, and a reminder that some friendships didn’t need many words.

Ranger had been fascinated with cars since the inception, they were just sick machines and they just kept getting finer and finer like the women and wine he's become accustomed to. He made his way down to Lucy's in his Duesenberg Model J, wind hitting his face, cool weather and a beautiful sun. It really was a great day. He'd worked long and hard for this car and he was going down to Lucy's to get it looked over and tuned for running liquor and making sure the cops didn't stand a chance at catching him. He pulled into the garage and stepped out, leaving his car running for the time being.

"Hello, the name's Oliver, I'm just here for a bit of tuning and maybe some juicing of the horsepower if you've got anything that might could do the trick." 

He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and started to look over the cars in the garage as he waited. 

It was a relatively quiet day in the shop, not as many customers were coming, and Lucy was busy in her office, hearing complaints about how a customer's 30 year old car had broken down again after getting fixed, even though she told them to get a new one.

"Sir I am sorry to hear that... Yeah I know an apology won't fix it but I warned you didn't I?... Then don't recommend me..."

Suddenly, Ralph came into her office.

"Boss, there's someone at the reception."

Lucy signaled Ralph that she'll be right over and aimed to finish the conversation over the phone.

"Yeah yeah sir as much as I'd love to hear you scream in my ear for the next hour, I have customers waiting. We'll talk another time." she said and hung up.

"Asshole" she muttered as she made her way to the reception, where Ralph was waiting.

"Boss, this is Oliver. He said he needs horsepower modification as well as some tuning."

"That so? Well, you've come to the right place Oliver. What kind of tuning are you looking for? Do you want the 'I just want to go a little faster' package or the 'I don't stop for no one' package? Either way, my guy Ralph here will set you up real nice. But first we need to see how much you can push it, so we'll do a brief inspection. You don't mind, do you?"

"Park your car over there so we can get started." Lucy said, pointing at an empty space in the garage.

Lucy had just repurchased her mechanic shop after her "death". Fortunately, things were almost the same as she left them. She goes to the phone in her office and dials Ralph's number.

"Yes?" said the voice from the other line.

"Hey pal... You ready to get back to work?" she said.

"Lucy?!"

"The very same.."

"You can't be... She's dead! Who is this?"

"It really is me. Come down the shop. You want your job back don't you?"

The line goes cold as Lucy lit one of her premium cigarettes and waited. After about half an hour, she heard the door open and took off to the reception where she saw Ralph pointing a gun at her.

"Hey what's with that?" she asked.

"You can't be Lucy. She's dead! They found her body full of blood!"

Lucy raised her hands and slowly walked towards Ralph. When she was about 170 cm away from him, he yelled.

"NOT ANOTHER STEP!"

Lucy slowly reached for his gun.

"I'LL SHOOT YOU! I SWEAR!"

She held his gun and started to lower it down while bracing for a bullet that may or may not fire off. When she finally lowered it all the way down, she extended her arm for a handshake.

"You wouldn't shoot me Ralph. I just know it. You are not that kind of guy you know?"

Ralph dropped the gun on the ground.

"It's about time you told me what's going on."

Lucy let out a sigh as she thought how to phrase this.

"I am... associated... with some bad people. That's all I can say."

"Yeah I figured that much. You'll need to do better than that if you want me back."

"Don't put me in this situation... Please."

Ralph looked at Lucy in the eyes. At that moment he knew. She wasn't the Lucy he knew. She was someone else. She had changed.

"I'm sorry. I'm not doing this anymore." he said as he turned his back.

Lucy quickly grabbed his shoulder.

"Please... You are the best mechanic I know. I'll double... No, TRIPLE your salary. A-a-and no more secrets from now on. I promise!" she said, in a desperate attempt to keep Ralph as her employee.

With Ralph having overwhelming bills to pay and a family to support, he turns back to Lucy once again.

"I'm a fool. And you know it. But you are the kindest and most trusting boss I've ever had. So... Fine. I'll work for you once again."

"Then... We better get back to work huh?" she said, relieved.

"Don't make me regret this boss." he said.

After cleaning up a little bit and setting a few things up, the mechanic shop was back in business. And once again, Lucy found herself in her office, listening to customer complaints and handling boring paperwork, as well as special services. She couldn't be happier.

George found himself at Lucy’s Motorshop. He looked around the operation with appreciation. He didn’t need the kind of work that left bodies exploded or brake lines cut, at least not today. Just a touchup. This is the place he wanted to do business for today and in the future. What made it really stand out to him was that it was both a place where “routine service” could mean a wax job or a disappearing act.

“Lucy?” he called out, voice calm but carrying weight. “Ain’t here for anything messy. Not today… anyhow.”

He took hisbtime walking toward the desk, running his left hand along the hood of a silver car..

“I gotta ride outside that needs a little… TLC. The paint’s dull, plates are legit, for now, and I want her runnin smooth enough to pass for clean against the cops, but still zoom out of town if she needs to.”

George leaned against the counter, lowering his voice just enough to show respect. He was known for having bass in his voice. He certainly didn’t want to offend Lucy. She was after all quite respected in Detroit and in her own crew as one of the essential leaders.

“Not lookin’ to vanish, not lookin’ to blow anybody sky high. Just want her to look like a businessman’s car. I wanna look my part properly and that means deesssin a certain way and driving a certain way. I think you would be the best option for that.”

“You got time for that kinda work Lucy? I figured I’d come to the best instead of some corner shop who would try to charge me double for half the work.”

He smirked and patiently waited for her response. 

Lucy looked at the man's sharp suit and immediately knew that he was not just a random guy. He was in the business.

After hearing him mention some of her special services, her suspicions were confirmed. However, she tried to keep a low profile and pretend she doesn't know what he's talking about.

"So... A small maintenance job then? We can do that. I'll give her the care she deserves. A tiny bit of tuning, a new paint job and a cleaning inside and out. Don't worry the wash is on the house, since it's your first time."

Lucy paused for a second, as if she got a little nervous. Something about this man seemed to intimidate her a little bit but she didn't know what it was.

"Soo uhh... If that's all then please feel free to park the car right over there so I can get started right away." she said, pointing at the empty space inside the garage.