Page 47 of The Fixer

They came at business from completely opposite directions, she and Charlie Hunnicutt, and she had to admit that when she was the client in this scenario, she preferred his approach.

She picked up a cracked statuette from a pile she’d been avoiding and tossed it into the trash heap. “I’m relieved to know the contractor I hired to help me get rid of this place is on solid financial footing. What I didn’t know was that I was dealing with a historical preservationist who wants everything pristine and by the book.”

“Is there anything wrong with that?”

“Besides us butting heads like two of those ramming things with the curly horns?”

Hailey laughed. “Bighorn sheep?”

“Yes, those.”

“Girl, you’ve got to learn your mountain vocabulary.” Hailey elbowed Joy, and Joy realized she liked the friendly contact. She wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of person, but the playful tap made her feel connected on a reassuringly human level.

“I admit I’m completely out of my element here, but no, I don’t need any mountain vocab because this girl is heading back to the big city where she came from. Soon. After I lay plans with Mr. Past-and-Present Perfect.”

Hailey paused, a giant crystal in hand, and her eyebrows rode up and down her forehead. “Ooh, what kinds of plans?”

“Nothing like what you’re implying. I’m talking about business. And I didn’t mean perfect as in perfect hair and teeth and … Oh, never mind,” Joy muttered. “Besides, I doubt there’s any room to join his fan club.”

“I was only kidding. It’s clear you’re not interested inthosekinds of services, or you’d be all tongue-tied and loopy around him.”

“Well, thank you for that!” After seeing the man on the book cover—the one she had to take a much closer look at—she totally got why women turned loopy. “I wouldn’t want to be confused for any of his conquests.”

“I don’t know that they’re so much conquests as candidates offering themselves up for conquering.”

“Well, it’s reassuring to know his social life doesn’t get in the way of his work.” Oh God, she was lame at this investigative stuff! Here she had criticized Carl Weatherly for his clumsy attempt at duplicity, and she was as, or more, clumsy in her fishing expedition. She might be a shark in the boardroom, but she was a trout on the shore gasping for air when it came to this kind of stuff.

Hailey chuckled. “I may be the newbie in these parts, but I do know Charlie’s more than capable of handling both business and pleasure at the same time. Not that he shares details of his escapades.”

“Escapades?”

“I’m pretty sure he hooks up now and then—I mean, he has to, right? No matter how disinterested he might act around the women throwing themselves at him, he has to get worn down and give in once in a while, if even just to get them to stop pestering him. And he’s a twenty-six-year-old man, so he’s goturges.” Hailey growled the last word in a poor attempt at a manly voice, eliciting more laughter from Joy.

“So … no steady?” Posing these nosy questions was so much easier when they were working alongside one another and she didn’t have to meet Hailey in the eye. Joy could make them come off like casual conversation.

“The only person I know who might qualify is Neve—and that ‘might’ is a stretch—plus, she’s not exactly a ‘steady.’”

“Friends with benefits, then?” Joy held her breath, not wanting to know the answer for some odd reason.

Hailey tossed a length of fabric into a donation stack that was so high it leaned precariously to one side. One more item on its wobbly pile and it might topple right over. “I don’t think so. I suspect Neve really has a thing for Reece, but that’s based solely on intuition. I could be totally misreading the situation. I haven’t been here long enough to uncoverallthe buried bodies in our little Peyton Place.”

A figure loomed on the other side of the front door, ending this conversation that had veered into undercover-spy territory—with Joy at the wheel. Before he could knock, Hailey sprang for the door and opened it, throwing her arms around her Mr. Hunky Bartender himself.

Balancing a box in one hand, the bar owner encircled Hailey’s waist with his free arm and chuckled. “Hang on there, surfer girl, or you’re going to make me drop this stew Dewey whipped up special for you.” His eyes wandered over the chaos, finally landing on Joy. “And Joy,” he quickly added.

Yeah, right. Nice recovery, barkeep.She wasn’t about to call the man on it because whatever he held in that box was sending out all kinds of lovely aromas that made her stomach rumble. His unexpected presence held another bonus: he had saved Joy from furthering this ridiculous round of questions that revolved around Charlie Hunnicutt’s sex life.

“Who’s Dewey?” she asked.

Hailey lightened Noah’s load. “He’s the Miners’ head cook.”

“The same one who turns out all those juicy burgers?”That I’ve been enjoying way too much?

Noah’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Glad you like ’em.”

“He’s also Dixie’s husband,” Hailey added as they deposited the bounty on the kitchen table. She looked up at Noah. “Are you going to stay and eat with us?”

“I’d love to, but I can’t, babe. I’ve got a lot to do before the lunch rush.” He leaned in for a kiss, and before their lips touched, they stared long and deep into each other’s eyes as though they were the only two people in the room. In the world.

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