Yes, although it requires a few adjustments

Mackenzie laid the two pieces of her jumpsuit on the small bathroom counter, placing one on either side of the sink. The very first thing she did was to begin peeling the remaining duct tape off the rough fabric. She no longer trusted the tape at all, and figured her best bet was to use the fabric of the suit itself to hold itself together. When she finished the peeling process a few minutes later, Mackenzie was awestruck at just how poorly her jumpsuit had held up that day.

The navy blue work garment had started the day perfectly intact (though its zipper had clearly been even more dodgy than Mackenzie had suspected). But after having both its sleeves torn off, its zipper track completely destroyed, and more rips and tears in it than seemed possible, it now laid there in not just two, but four separate pieces! The entire suit had been cut in half at the waist, true enough. But what Mackenzie hadn't realized until that moment was that the top half had actually split in half again, resulting in a back part and front part, both of which were completely disconnected from each other. And, even worse, with the front zipper inoperable, the front half was also two separate pieces!

Mackenzie took a moment to take stock of the four pieces. She had a bottom half of the suit (which itself had very nearly split in two, and was only really held together by the ankle and crotch areas of the fabric), a top back quarter of the suit, a top front left eighth of the suit, and a top front right eighth of the suit. The naked redhead mentally labelled the four pieces as the bottom, back, left, and right pieces to help keep them straight as she tried to deduce a way to repair the ridiculously tattered garment. She did have one idea. But, it would mean she'd need to use her utility knife again. The same knife that was currently on her workbench... out in the middle of the shop.

Mackenzie clutched the back piece of the suit to her bare breasts and slowly approached the door. She really hated that she was going to have to ask for Brandon's help, but she didn't see any other way around it. Trying to keep a neutral tone in her voice, Mackenzie opened the door just enough to peek out into the shop. She kept her body behind the door as much as possible, holding the fabric to her chest just in case.

"Hey, Brandon?" she called. "Can you bring me my utility knife? It should be on my workbench."

"A knife?" he asked, popping into view. "What for?"

"Just bring it!" Mackenzie said with no small amount of exasperation, before begrudgingly adding, "Please. I'm going to try to fix the jumpsuit up, but I need the knife."

"You got it!" Brandon called back. He appeared a few moments later in front of the door, knife in hand. He held the knife out to the gap in the door but whisked it away quickly when Mackenzie reached for it. "One condition, though: I get to keep working on the car."

Mackenzie scoffed. She had been planning on kicking Brandon out as soon as she had the knife in hand.

"Uh-uh," she said, sternly. She reached an arm out, silently demanding the knife again. Brandon's gaze was instantly drawn to the bare shoulder Mackenzie was now allowing to peek around the door.

"Oh come on," Brandon whined, dangling the knife just out of Mackenzie's reach. "It's a win-win for you! I keep working on the car while you're working on your... clothing situation."

Mackenzie tried to grab the knife handle again, but Brandon was too quick in whisking it away. He could now see the very edge of Mackenzie's body peeking out from the door, and it looked like bare skin all the way from her shoulder down to her feet. She was standing there, barely two feet away from him, entirely naked behind the door! Brandon felt a surge of exhilaration run through him. He was so close! There wasn't a chance in hell he was leaving now. He kept selling.

"Once you fix your jumpsuit and come back out, just say the word and I'll leave! I swear!"

Mackenzie glared at him for a long, hard minute, still completely unaware that she was now revealing a full inch of her body beside the door. Brandon tried his best not to stare at the very edge of Mackenzie's right breast while she tried to intimidate him.

"Fine," she said flatly. "You can keep working on the car until I come out of the bathroom. Then you're gone."

"Fine by me!" Brandon smirked as he finally handed over the knife.

Mackenzie took it and closed the bathroom door, once again wishing that the knob could've had a lock of some sort. She would just have to hope Brandon meant it when he said he'd be working on the car, and not doing anything else. But with a lot of work ahead of her, the redhead tossed the back of the jumpsuit back onto the counter. She brandished her trusty knife and got to work.

It took her over half an hour, but Mackenzie finally had gotten her jumpsuit into a somewhat wearable state. Although, it was much much smaller than it had been that morning. She'd essentially cut off the longer parts of the suit and sliced them into strips to use as a makeshift type of "rope." It had been more than a little tricky, and quite time consuming, using the knife to cut up the rough fabric. If only she'd had some durable scissors, her job could've been done much faster and with significantly fewer mistakes. First one pant leg, then a second, and finally the entire back of the suit had been cannibalized into a rough semblance of rope to help hold the remaining fabric together.

Her shorts were now held up with a new "belt" which wove through the suit's remaining beltloops and tied together in the front. However, the rips in its hips had proven problematic, leading Mackenzie to carefully slice several holes in the edges of the fabric and run more rope in between them, almost like makeshift shoelace. She'd repeated the process on the front of the top, tying the two halves closed over her chest. With the back piece needed for its fabric, Mackenzie had been **** to use more rope to run behind her back and neck, fastening the two sides together that way.

The end result was almost laughable for a jumpsuit. It was essentially a halter top and some short shorts, both of which were quite tight and skimpy on the curvaceous mechanic. (The shorts were especially short in the back, due to Mackenzie fumbling the knife when cutting away the legs, and a bit of her round ass was actually peeking out of them.) It seemed more like a slutty Halloween costume than anything else! The poor excuse for an outfit was held together by crisscrossing rope across Mackenzie's cleavage and hips. Between the obviously bare back and bare hips the outfit highlighted, it made it abundantly clear to anyone lucky enough to see her that Mackenzie wasn't wearing any underwear underneath the fabric. But Mackenzie was no longer susceptible to the faulty duct tape, at least. This outfit would hold together!

As long as none of the various ties came undone. Or the improvised eyelets split. Or the "rope" itself broke. Right. As long as none of those things happened, Mackenzie reasoned it would hold together just fine.

The redhead looked herself over in the mirror, unable to keep the blush off her face. How had her day gone horribly enough to land her in this barely decent outfit, complete with a perverted rival waiting for her outside, who had already gotten multiple looks at her in sex lingerie, or even less... Mackenzie snapped herself out of those embarrassing memories. She knew what she had to do next. She would walk back out to the shop floor, politely yet firmly tell Brandon to pack his shit and get lost, then finish fixing the car herself. With any luck, she'd be driving herself home in an hour or two, where plenty of more reliable clothes and exactly zero lecherous boys were waiting for her.

With a plan in mind, Mackenzie felt her confidence return. She opened the bathroom door and strode back out into her shop. The first thing she noticed was that Brandon really did seem like he had made some significant progress in getting the car ready. He glanced up at her as she approached and, not unsurprisingly, his jaw just about hit the floor and his eyes began darting up and down her body. Mackenzie stopped a few feet away, trying to seem unperturbed by his leering.

"Alright, take a good look creepo," she said, sternly. "Then grab your shit and go."

"I, uh," Brandon was clearly at a loss for words. He fumbled over his tongue a few more times before finally spitting out, "I'm done."

"What?" Mackenzie asked.

"I'm done. With the car. Well, okay, no I've got to finish up one last thing. So not quite done. But give me, uh, five minutes?"

"You did all that work... in half an hour?" she asked dubiously.

"What can I say?" he smirked. "I'm damn good at my job. But, yeah, grab a seat and wait for five minutes, and your car will be good to go!"

Mackenzie was suddenly unsure of what to do. She figured the safest bet would still be making Brandon leave and finishing the car herself. That way, even if she did encounter wardrobe problems, at least no one would be around to see it. But then again... what was the harm in letting him to the wrap up work?

Mackenzie carefully sat down on her favorite stool, shivering slightly at the cold metal touching her butt. Even though she was literally going to be sitting still while Brandon did all the work, she still felt a bit apprehensive. Which was, admittedly, not unwarranted given how disastrous her luck had been that day. As Mackenzie watched Brandon move around to the front of the car to finish whatever needed finishing, she thought one simple thought: