Paige’s POV
By nine in the morning, Lawson Customs was already packed, and I stood near the front office with my coffee while watching three customers wait for estimates, two motorcycles sat outside for scheduled service, and another four filled the workshop.
The noise was almost ridiculous, but I found myself smiling because this was exactly the kind of chaos I had once dreamed about.
Engines rumbled, tools clattered against metal, customers talked over one another, and Mia moved through everything with the calm confidence of someone who knew how to control the madness.
“Mrs. Carter's bike is ready for pickup, and she has already paid.” Mia called from behind the counter.
“Perfect.” I said.
“Mr. Wilson wants his estimate updated before he approves the restoration.” She said.
“I wil
