It was just after 2 p.m. when the temperature gauge in his small office hit 115°, typical for Phoenix in August.
That's when he heard it. The distinctive sound of an expensive engine in distress, followed by the slam of car doors and a woman's frustrated voice saying, "Not now. Please, not today."
Ethan wiped his hands on his shop rag and stepped outside, squinting against the blazing Arizona sun. What he saw would change everything.
* * *
Outside Rodriguez Auto Repair, a sleek black BMW X7 sat with its hood up, white steam billowing into the scorching Phoenix afternoon.
Beside it stood a woman who looked like she'd stepped out of a boardroom magazine. Tailored navy blazer, perfectly styled blonde hair and designer heels that were clearly not made for standing on hot asphalt in 115° weather.
But it was the little girl beside her that caught Ethan's attention first. Around 10 years old with the same blonde hair as her mother, wearing a private school uniform complete with knee high socks despite the heat.
She was holding her mother's hand and looking genuinely worried not about the car, but about the stress lines creasing her mother's forehead.
"Excuse me," the woman called out as Ethan approached. "I don't suppose you're open. I know it's past normal business hours, but we're kind of desperate here."
Ethan glanced at his watch. It was 2:30 p.m. and while he normally stayed open until 5, the heat had driven most sensible people indoors.
"I'm open. What seems to be the problem?"
"The engine just started overheating out of nowhere. We were on our way to Emma's piano lesson when steam started pouring out. I've called three other shops, but everyone says they can't see us until next week."
The little girl, Emma, stepped forward with the kind of confidence that came from being raised to speak up for herself.
"My mom's really stressed because she has a big meeting tomorrow and this is her only car and I'm supposed to perform at the Orpheum Theater next Friday for the children's charity gala. So, I can't miss too many lessons."
Ethan knelt down to Emma's eye level. Something he'd learned to do with Mia. Kids deserve to be heard, not talked down to.
"The Orpheum Theater. That's a pretty big deal. What do you play?"
Emma's face lit up. "Piano. I've been practicing Chopin's Minute Waltz for three months. It's really hard, but Mom says if you work hard enough, you can do anything here."
"Mom sounds pretty smart."
And Ethan looked up at the woman. "Let me take a look under the hood. I'm Ethan Rodriguez, by the way."
As Ethan examined the engine, he became aware of Victoria watching him work. Not in the way most customers did with suspicion or impatience, but with genuine interest.
She asked intelligent questions about what he was looking for. And when Emma started getting restless in the heat, Victoria quickly moved her into the shade of the shop's overhang.