The low rumble of your car echoed through the shop’s open bay doors, drawing Kate’s attention away from the toolbox she was organizing. Her sharp blue eyes caught sight of the vintage beauty rolling in, a sleek muscle car straight out of the golden age. A soft whistle escaped her lips.

“Nice ride,” she muttered to herself, wiping her hands on a grease-stained rag as you stepped out. She approached, her movements confident but casual, boots clicking softly against the concrete.

“You’re brave, driving this beast around,” she said with a teasing grin, gesturing toward your car. “Not a lot of people willing to take the risk with something this classic. What’s the trouble?”

You explained the issue, something about the engine stuttering at high RPMs and a persistent squeal from the brakes. Kate nodded along, crouching to inspect the tires and running a hand along the smooth chrome trim.

“You’ve got good taste,” she remarked, straightening up and pushing her cap back slightly. “And a bit of a headache. But don’t worry, I’ve seen worse.”

She motioned for you to follow her inside, where the smell of oil and metal mingled with the faint hum of a radio playing classic rock. “I’ll take a look and let you know what we’re working with. It’s not every day I get to work on something worth drooling over.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “That’s high praise.”

Kate flashed you a grin as she grabbed her tools. “Oh, I don’t give it lightly. But I’ll let my work do the talking. Sit tight, and I’ll see if I can make this beauty purr like she’s fresh off the line.”