Page 107 of The Fix

A flush takes over my face and I shake my head. “This was a terrible idea.”

“Never,” Aria exclaims. “Now spill about Toby. We can talk about books later.”

Dragging in a deep breath, my eyes dart over to the bodyguard taking up most of the front window, his back to us.

“Don’t worry about him,” Cedar says, waving him off with her cup holding hand. “Jon doesn’t listen to shit unless Squirt is around.”

I nod and drag my sight away from the buzzed head that’s just far enough away, but lean closer into the table anyways. “So what do you wanna know?”

Aria snorts and mirrors my pose. “Is he good?”

My eyes go wide.

“Does he eat out?” Cedar asks over the stack of books and I can feel the heat take over my face.

“Okay, so both of those are a yes, if the redness is any indication.” Aria leans back with a knowing smirk. “Is it dickmatized or for real?”

I blink.

And blink.

What have I done?

“Right,” Cedar adds, oh so helpfully. “Well, if we’re still not cool with lap dances even though he’s been gone this long, then it’s gotta be for real, Ari.”

“Have you seen him? At rehab?” Aria asks.

I force out a breath that moves the hair near my forehead. “I was with Leo when we took him.”

“Oh,” Aria states, her brows dipping. “You haven’t been to see him?”

I shake my head and feel my shoulders drooping. “No, I haven’t.”

“Why?”

It’s a simple question. Easy to ask when you’re on the outside like Cedar is, easy to want to know when you haven’t seen the things that I have.

I lick my drying lips, then take a sip from the to-go cup in my hand to give myself a moment.

I’m slow to swallow the scolding mouthful, thankful for its distraction while I set the cup back on the table between me and the women dead set on knowing me.

When I look up to find concern lining both of their features, Cedar’s blue eyes blazing in a different way than Aria’s, I decide to speak the truth.

My truth.

The reason I’m here. Why I took a job like this to begin with.

How I already knew about addiction when I interviewed with Leo.

And why I can’t stick around any longer.

I clear my throat. “I—”

A ring cuts off my words and my brow furrows when neither woman in front of me reaches for their pockets or bags.

“Oh, crap.” I feel the color drain from my face as I pull the device out with trembling hands from my tiny clutch.

“Hey, Mama,” Toby’s gruff tone greets me like a calm to my internal storm, a salve to my aching heart, and I stumble off the stool and away from prying ears. “You watching TV?”

---