Page 59 of The Fixer

Maybe Icanfire him today.“As myforeman, you’re in charge of getting supplies, not a day worker who barely speaks English!”

“All he has to do is pick up the fucking order. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”

“All right. We’re tabling this discussion for another time. I’ve got some rearranging to do.”

When they hung up, Charlie considered his choices. He could pull one of the guys off the other job site, but they were bumping against deadlines. He could wait until Felix was back, but that would be hours. Or he could start demoing by himself. Suddenly, that notion held all kinds of appeal. Tearing things apart was going to feel damn good.

Felix called him assoon as the messages popped up on his phone, or so he said. Charlie was inclined to believe the man, but after Cully’s bullshit and how his morning had gone sideways, he wasn’t exactly in a trusting mood.

Felix ran on in broken English. “I so sorry, Mr. Charlie, but Mr. Cully say this what you want. I tell him I check with you. You the boss. He sayhethe boss and that he no give me work if I call you. What I do?”

“He can’t do that, Felix. I will talk to him. Meanwhile, you stay there and work today.”

“You no need me work with you this afternoon?”

“No, I got this.” The demo work was just what the doctor had ordered, and Charlie was feeling more cheerful with each cabinet he pried from the wall and each tile he smashed. “But I want you here tomorrow.”

“Yes, Mr. Charlie. I be there.”

Charlie was hauling debris out of the back door and hurling it into the newly delivered dumpster when Joy appeared on the back stoop.

“Are you supposed to be wearing a hazmat suit or at least a mask?”

“Nope. We’re good. The samples I took the other day didn’t turn up lead-based paint or asbestos. If they had, I wouldn’t have let you stay here while the work was going on.”

“Oh. Well, thank you for that.” She chewed one side of her lip. “What do you think of fencing the backyard?”

Dumbfounded, he paused to wipe the sweat from his face with his forearm. “What?”

“This backyard would look much nicer with a fence, don’t you think? No one would see the junk, it would keep the animals out, and a dog could run and play back here.”

What the fuck was she talking about?

“You just spent hours yesterday fighting me tooth and nail over design ideas that are going to increase the bottom line. A fence wasn’t one of those ideas. What’s more, the only effect it’ll have on the bottom line is to reduce it.” He tilted his head and peered at her, his mind buzzing with questions. She pursed her lips and wiggled her mouth from side to side. Her eyes were trained elsewhere, and he could practically see sentences and paragraphs racing through them, though he had no idea what the words spelled. What was really going on here? Was she concerned because he wanted to bring Sunny and Luna to work with him? Nah. Joy Holiday wasn’t that selfless—not when dollars were involved.

“What dogs are you expecting to run and play back here?” Sweat continued trickling into his eyes, and he used the hem of his T-shirt to swipe at his forehead. As he lowered it back into place, he noticed her gaze dart from his stomach to his face. Her cheeks reddened. Without the layers of makeup, he could tell when she blushed, and she was blushing something fierce. He fought a smirk—nice to know she appreciatedsomethingabout him.

She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “It would be easier to have your dogs here, right? And I was thinking about what you said about Hailey and Noah, and I pictured their pup back here.”

His confusion bloomed. “Are you planning to dog-sit Chance? Invite them over for a play date? Or are you thinking of selling to them? I’m not sure they can afford the finished product.”

Her prim little nose stuck up in the air, and she gave the hem of her top an indignant tug. “I’m … weighing options.” Which answered nothing.

She pivoted and sauntered back inside, her hips swaying in a natural, feminine rhythm. Despite his warning bells going off, he watched her the entire way, appreciating the view. The words he’d gleaned in her notebook made an appearance in his head, as they’d done many times since he’d first seen them.

Dirty. Naked. Engorged.

Fuck! He had to stop this … this whatever it was messing with his mind. Maybe it was time to fall off the celibacy wagon and indulge his body’s cravings. He had choices: Germaine, Lauren, and probably Becky. Other names popped into his head. Most men would say having alternatives to choose from was a good problem, but the thought of getting naked with any of them made acid bubble in his stomach—never mind the complications that would inevitably follow. When his imagination leaped to Joy—without his permission—his libido gave a rousing cheer.

Oh, this was not good.

Chapter 16

A One-Man Wet T-Shirt Contest

“What’s he wearing?” Estellehissed on the phone.

“The usual. A sleeveless T-shirt, jeans, and work boots. Leather gloves.” Joy stood on tiptoe and watched Charlie through the kitchen window. The late Friday afternoon sun bathed the backyard in heat as he directed a delivery truck where to deposit bundles of boards. A fine sheen coated the muscles of his arms, reflecting the sunlight and giving him a bronzed glow. The effect reminded her of the cover model’s slicked-down torso. She knew because she’d checked that cover several times a day to make sure the image in her head was accurate. Right now the book was safely tucked beneath her bed.

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