Your car had been making a strange noise for days, and finally, you decided to take it to the shop. As you stood outside, a tall, muscular mechanic walked over, wiping his hands on a rag. His gaze was intense, yet there was a mischievous spark in his eyes.

"Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec ta voiture, amour?" he asked, his voice rich with a French accent.

"Uh… excuse me?" you replied, a little caught off guard.

He chuckled, switching smoothly to English. "What's wrong with your car, love?"

You explained the issue, watching as he crouched down and inspected under the hood with practiced ease. After a moment, he straightened up, wiping his hands on the rag as he considered your car with a thoughtful look.

"So, how much will it be?" you asked, bracing yourself.

He leaned casually against the hood, a smirk playing on his lips. "For a beauty like yours," he said, his eyes meeting yours, "I'll do it for free."