Page 19 of Fiona and the Fixer

I frowned, even though I didn’t know who Elise was. “I’m sorry to hear that. Will she be all right?”

Mrs. Metcalf waved her hand. “Yes, but she can’t work for a few weeks.”

I nodded in understanding. I had mine taken out when I’d been stabbed with a screwdriver. I’d been twenty-three and a little too sure of myself. I was thankful the only thing they’d removed from my body had been my appendix. I learned from that experience and hadn’t been stabbed… much, since.

During my recovery time though, I’d had to resort to alternate maiming techniques until I could get in a fist fight, fully twist at the waist, or lift someone. Or all of the above at the same time.

“I’m sure,” I replied, because I doubted she’d want the screwdriver story.

“So you’ll need to fill in for her.”

I blinked at her like she’d just flung dust in my eyes.

“Um, doing what?”

“Working at the shop.”

“What shop?

“HEA. Happily Ever After.”

Right! I remembered when Jack first fell for Hannah that he had no idea what that abbreviation meant. We’d had to look it up. I didn’t know what it meant in this context though.

When I continued to stare at her, she added, “Hannah’s bookstore.”

Brakes squealed on my sluggish thoughts. What? No way. It was my turn to wave a hand, then hold it out in front of me full stop. “Wait. Wait. Not happening.”

“I’d do it, but Mr. Metcalf and I are headed to Arizona to see our grandson play. He’s a linebacker for his college football team.”

“That’s nice, but I know nothing about running a bookstore. Or more importantly, romance books.”

She looked me over from head to toe, appraising my wrinkled suit pants and shirt. If she wondered why I slept in my clothes, she didn’t ask. A honk from the car at the curb disrupted her. “I assure you; the customers won’t mind.”

Reaching out, she shoved keys on a glitter pineapple keychain and a little slip of paper into my raised hand. “For the front door. And the alarm code’s on there, along with the password to get into the point-of-sale system. Be there before ten. Gotta run!”

It took me a few seconds to process what had just happened, that I’d been bested by a five-foot-tall senior citizen.She was in the car and halfway down the block before I realized that meant I was now expected to work at Hannah’s bookstore.

Me. Mr. No Romance himself.

What the hell?

9

DAX

I opened Happily EverAfter Books right on time. Meaning I unlocked the door and flipped over the quaint Open/Closed sign. The interior of the store wasn’t as pink as the exterior, with white walls and the original wood floor refinished to a glossy shine. It made the thousands of books stand out, their covers bright and glossy and many covered with half naked men.

I swore a lot as I spent ten minutes trying to figure out the cash register system without much luck. Was it a sign I was doomed to fail at this? I glanced around at the estrogen-fueled store.

“What the fuck am I doing?” I muttered to myself.

I should just flip the sign back over and make a run for it. But this store was Hannah’s dream. She’d had to put iton hold because of a fucking brain tumor and medical bills.

Who hurt the feelings of a woman who’d had to deal with that?

Not me.

Plus, her man was a hitman. If she was sad, Jack took care of the reason, and I didn’t want it to be me. I didn’t want to end up on his FUCKERS OF COAL SPRINGS list.

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