Page 129 of The Fixer

Out on the congested sidewalk, he realized he was in the midst of people rushing around on their lunch hour, and his relaxed gait along North Michigan Avenue did not fit the flow. Damn, this city was crowded! The word “overwhelming” looped through his brain. But the jostling, darting populace gave him an idea.

Ten minutes later, he stood outside a different—though equally impressive—high-rise. Inside the lobby, he located the suite number and the correct bank of elevators that would take him up to C&H Consulting.

“Hi,” he greeted the receptionist when he entered Joy’s inner sanctum. “I’m here to see Joy Holiday?”

“Do you have—”

“An appointment? No. But I thought I’d drop by on the off chance I could take her to lunch.” He gave the woman his best smile.

“Oh my God!” A little shriek sounded from a hallway off to one side. A young woman with auburn hair swept back in a twist gawked at him through her glasses. “You’re Charlie Hunnicutt, aren’t you?”

“I am.” He stepped forward and extended the woman his hand. “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

“I’m Estelle, er, ah …”

“You’re Joy’s personal assistant. I’ve heard a lot of nice things about you.”

She narrowed her light eyes. “You have?”

“Yeah. You kept things running so she could devote attention to her mother’s estate. Thank you for that.”

She tittered nervously. “I guess I did at that. Is Joy expecting you?”

“In Chicago, yes. In her office, no. I got in early and thought I’d surprise her, but maybe that wasn’t such a good idea.” He looked from Estelle to the receptionist, who appeared utterly fascinated by their conversation. “You folks look busy.”

“Follow me.” Estelle wheeled, and he fell in behind her after sending a wave and a thanks the receptionist’s way.

Estelle led him to a conference room with its lights turned off. “If you don’t mind hanging out in here, I’ll let Joy know you’re waiting for her.”

“Thank you.”

“M-kay. Bye now.” She squeezed the door almost entirely shut, though he could still see her mouth and the tip of her nose through the gap. “Bye-bye,” she repeated. “So nice to see you in person.”

“You too,” he replied to Estelle’s nose and lips right before the door closed.

The conference room wasn’t on the scale of Silver Summit’s, but it was equally impressive in its furnishings and its view. Silver Summit had the mountains, but C&H looked out on tall buildings and Lake Michigan.

The door cracked, and Joy slithered through and snapped it shut. Her sherry-colored eyes were wide, and her red-lipsticked mouth hitched up onone side in a tentative smile. “What are you doing here?” she whisper-shouted.

“I wanted to see you. I thought I could take you to lunch. I have a feeling I might’ve broken a rule, though.” He covered the physical distance between them but detected an invisible barrier that made him stop a few feet away.

Her eyes darted around the room. “Well, I’m … That’s so sweet, but I …”

“You’re busy.” He shrugged. “I get it. I had time to kill, and I was out walking around, seeing the sights. I thought I’d give it a try.”

“I’d like nothing better, but …”

She was as nervous as a rabbit in the center of a coyote den, and all of him wanted to soothe her. To feel that connection with her.

He took a chance. “Come here.”

She inched toward him, her eyes flaring a little bigger. “Why? What do you have in mind?”

When she drew close enough, he pounced. “This.” With one hand, he cupped the back of her head while the other one reached around and smoothed over her ass, giving it an extended squeeze before he plastered her against him, locking her in place.

“So much better,” he murmured before his mouth took hers, hot and greedy. His tongue dipped, swept, claimed.

She responded with a hunger of her own, gliding her hands up his chest, around his neck, plowing her fingers through his hair, digging into his scalp. He slid his hand from her head down her back to join the other one, yanking up the hem of her skirt and diving below the waistband of her panties.

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