Page 51 of The Fixer

Felix’s dark eyes widened. “Second to Mr. Cully?”

Charlie held a finger to his lips. “It’s our secret. Don’t say anything, don’t do anything. Just observe and report back to me, okay?” He trusted Felix more than he trusted Cully right now, which was a disturbing state of affairs. He took solace from the fact that a hard worker like Felix was a good addition to his depleted team. Why not reward the guy for his effort and his attitude?

Felix bowed his head too many times to count. “Yes, Mr. Charlie. Yes. I watch. I let you know.”

“Good man.” Charlie grasped his shoulder and spun toward his truck, turning his attention to the other big mystery. What the hell had possessed Joy Holiday to change her mind so quickly? Was it guilt over her scene with Bea—to whom he owed an extra dose of groveling? No, Joy didn’t know what guilt was. So who did he owe for this sudden turnaround?

Had to be Hailey.

It didn’t matter. He only cared that he had another shot at convincing Ms. Uptight to do the full reno. Charlie was good at helping people share his vision. Besides, she owed him.

Seated behind the steering wheel, he ran through ways the conversation could go in his head and prepared himself to pull out all the stops to save the old beauty that housed the crystals shop. An annoying little voice in the back corner of his brain told him to be careful what he wished for—partnering with that woman and her sharp tongue might be the death ofhim. But if she pushed too hard, Joy Holiday would discover he had a stubborn streak as wide as Colorado’s eastern plains.

Chapter 14

Partners

Joy jumped when herphone rang and dropped the romance book she’d been ogling. One eye glued to the hottie on the cover and one on the back window, she’d been waiting for said hottie’s telltale white truck to pull up and park in the empty lot. Surprised to see Sterling’s number on her screen, she picked up the call.

“Hey, what’s happening in the Windy City?”

“Wow, somebody’s chipper,” he snorted.

“Well, hello to you too. What’s wrong with being chipper?”

“Nothing. I’m just not used to it. Can we FaceTime?”

“Sure.”

His face appeared on her phone screen. “When are you coming home?” As he adjusted his device, she noticed his perfectly manicured nails and the gold signet ring he wore on his right hand. A family heirloom, he’d once told her, passed down through generations of Calloway blue bloods. Under the cuff of his Finamore shirt peeked the steel band of his Tag Heuerwatch.

Wow. The Chicago broker version of Bruno Keating. Why was she only now noticing these details, likereallynoticing them? Probably because those details were so embedded in her own life that she’d been blind. That realization left her feeling a bit sheepish.

Joy Holiday, who are you, and what do you stand for?

“Um, I’ve only been gone two days, Sterling.”

“I repeat. When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know. The situation here is a bit more complicated than I originally planned for.”

“How? You hand a contractor a big fat check, and you leave. He knocks the place down and sends you pictures. The town cheers because you just paid to wipe out an eyesore. Sounds simple to me.”

Irritation prickled the fine hairs along her nape. “It’s not that easy. Since landing here, I’ve discovered that this town is a historical landmark, which means they have rules in place when we’re dealing with a vintage structure like the store. Those regs say I’m not allowed to just knock it down. They also say we have to bring it up to code, at the very minimum, before we can put it up for sale. That’s going to take time, and we need boots on the ground—mine—to be sure it gets done right. I’m staying at least through the weekend.”

“Whoa, so long? And who the hell is ‘we’?”

Had she said “we”? She was usually so careful with her choice of words.Lack of meds. “I mean the estate. The estate is ‘we.’”Not me and Charlie Hunnicutt, my new partner and delicious cover model. Nope, we’re not the “we” here.

“I miss you.” He pushed out his lower lip in an unmanly pout. It wasn’t a good look on him oranygrown-ass man.

“I don’t know why,” she sniffed. “Estelle took care of my calendar, and I’m staying in touch with clients. It’s not like you’re having to pick up my load.”

“It’s not like that, Joy,” he sighed. “I missseeingyou.”

“You’re seeing me now.” She refrained from rolling her eyes. Had Sterling always been this whiny?

He pulled a face, like he’d swallowed something bitter. “Speaking of seeing you, you look different. Don’t tell me you’re going barefaced these days.”

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