Page 60 of The Fixer

“Sunglasses? Ball cap?” Estelle demanded.

“Sunglasses. No ball cap today.”Just all sun-kissed strands of gold.

“Is he sweaty?”

“Not at the moment,” Joy lied.

The kitchen was partially destroyed, and she could see into the shop through the open framing. Somehow, the chaos didn’t upset her. High-speed internet had been installed, she had running water, coffee, and lightswhen they weren’t working on the electrical, and a steady supply of pastries and hamburgers. The past week had brought deeper and longer nights of sleep than she’d enjoyed in years … which was beyond bizarre. How the ghosts of her past weren’t haunting her nights was a riddle wrapped inside a puzzle. Maybe they were being exorcised as the store’s inner walls were torn down.

“Send me a picture!”

“I don’t think so.” Joy had sent one picture—one—of an overheated Charlie in the sun, hose above his head, pouring water over his hair, plastering his T-shirt to his chiseled torso as he tried to cool off on an eighty-degree day. Estelle had gone bananas and babbled about a wet T-shirt contest. Now Joy felt a strange surge of possessiveness, and any pictures she took of her partner were going to remain in her phone, for her eyes only. Of course, the only reason she was taking them in the first place was to record the progress of Crystal Harmony Haven’s transformation—which didn’t explain why her album was full of pictures of her hunky contractor and not his helper or the ripped-up walls.

“Your big date’s tomorrow,” Estelle squealed.

“It’s not a date. We’re just going to a music thing together. He’s only using me as cover so he doesn’t get mauled by one of his groupies.”

“If it smells like a date and quacks like a date, then it’s a date. What are you wearing?”

A sigh escaped Joy’s chest. “I don’t know. I haven’t had a chance to get to Montrose, and none of my other clothes are fitting for some reason.”

“Are they shrinking, or are you growing?”

“Of course I’m not growing! It’s this miner town’s water making them shrink.” Joy paused to pop the button on her too-tight capris, dismissing the little detail that even her dry clean-only clothes—which hadn’t been cleaned since her arrival in Fall River—were too snug for comfort. “There’s a consignment store in town that I might be forced to visit out of desperation.”

“Oh my God! Joy Holiday at a secondhand clothing store? I’m calling the press!”

“Shut up, Estelle.” She spotted Charlie’s helper, Felix, trundle toward his car and Charlie heading for her back door. Cully hadn’t been around, and that was all right by Joy. Something about the guy put her on edge. She much preferred the affable Felix, though she often couldn’t understand theman. Sometimes Charlie stepped in to interpret. No lie, it was kinda hot hearing Spanish roll off his tongue.

“I have to go, Estelle. Call you later.”

“Have fun tomorrow,” Estelle sang. “I want a full report. With pictures!”

“Well, you’re not getting any,” Joy harrumphed right before she hung up. Tucking her phone into her pocket, she headed for the back door to save Charlie the trouble of knocking. She plastered on a smile and swung the door wide.

Charlie’s brows were furrowed above his sunglasses, but he immediately shoved them up on his head and brightened with a smile of his own. “Ready for a progress report?”

How was the man always so damn cheerful?

She waved him in. “Table or couch?” Hardly any furniture remained. For that matter, hardlyanythingremained. With a little help from her new friends, Joy had managed to clear out half of the store’s contents and her mother’s belongings, minus ten or so boxes of stuff she didn’t know what to do with. They were stacked in Helene’s old bedroom, safely out of the construction zone.

“Table’s fine.”

“Water? Coke? Beer? Wine?”

He pointed toward her makeshift bar—the living room fireplace mantel Charlie planned to refurbish. “I’ll take a shot of whiskey and a beer.” Fall River had not one, but two liquor stores, with surprisingly top-notch selections, from which Joy had already built a tiny liquor bar.

Joy arched an eyebrow. “Bad day?” She grabbed a Fall River souvenir shot glass she’d bought from the general store.

Charlie slid his glasses onto the table and plopped onto a creaky chair. “No, it’s Friday. Time to celebrate the end of a long week. And I have news about tomorrow.”

“Ah.” She splashed a measure into the glass, handed it to him, and snatched a beer from the fridge. ItwasFriday, wasn’t it? The weekends had never mattered before because Joy usually worked through them, but she felt the rhythm of the week in this town, and it put her in a celebratory mood. She’d been here a whole week and hadn’t gone off the deep end yet.

She poured herself a glass of chardonnay and joined Charlie at the table. “So what’s this about tomorrow?”

He sat back and scratched the back of his head. “The event at the Silver Lode was postponed.”

Oh.She hid her unexpected disappointment. “How come?”

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