Brother Talk
Darlene didn't get much driving these days, but oil changes were done right on schedule. Hell or high water, oil was changed at 3000 miles or every three months. No excuses. The rebuilt engine of original '71 parts needed babying. The AI inside the car needed another sort of babying.
Misha was whistling to himself, thinking life had thrown him a few curves this time. One was a redhead, the other a blond. They both showed about as much romantic interest in him, and for once he was enjoying it. No pressure or stress necessary. Neither had the friendly insulting banter of his friendship with Sammy, but it was nice. The Embassy suits could run around in circles for all he cared. As long as he didn't make a disgrace of himself on the front page, they had nothign to say that he had to hear.
He finished his automotive puttering with wiping down the interior of the car to a steady stream of complaints and suggestions, some of which were actually doable.
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