Winslow grunted at the description, mostly to be polite: how it sounded when she got here told him nothing, but he appreciated her effort. Rather than disappear, she settled in a chair just outside his peripheral vision and he inwardly groaned. Did she expect him to be obsequious and subservient the entire time?
Turning his head, he was momentarily distracted by the sight of her shapely legs; he had an excellent view of her body from his vantage point, helped by the neat cut and cling of her expensive-looking clothes. "Most people can't repair things," he finally mumbled, turning back to the air conditioner, staring at it steely determination. Winslow was sure his ears were red and he prayed the passenger was too self-absorbed to notice.