Page 58 of Fiona and the Fixer

“Just what I thought.” She tapped the counter with her finger. “Eat.” She looked around. “Where’s Dax?”

“No idea,” I said, stabbing into the salad. “Had something to do in Denver.”

When he got the call earlier, all I’d heard through the phone was a grumpy guy saying Dax was late. It really could’ve been the dentist, but usually receptionists had a friendlier tone.

“I’ve got his dinner, too.” She gave me a look. “A man like that needs his meat.”

I didn’t disagree. It also meant I didn’t have to share this salad with him.

“How long have you two been dating?”

Since Dax first told Dottie he was my boyfriend? Or did our encounter at the convenience store count as when it started? I went with the armed robbery. “Two days.”

Dottie set her hand over her heart and looked sappy as hell. “Love at first sight.”

I shook my head in a way that would’ve knocked asquirrel loose if it clung to my hair. “No. Nope. No love at first sight.”

“You don’t believe in it?” she asked.

“I don’t think love is really for me.”

She frowned and looked like Tinkerbell when someone stole her pixie dust. “Well, that’s sad. Didn’t your mom and dad show you what it’s like?”

I chuckled, then took a swig of my wine. “My life’s not a romance book. It’s more like a true crime podcast.”

“I’m all ears if you want to share,” she said.

I studied her as I stabbed a cube of cheese and ate it.

Dottie was earnest. She didn’t seem to have an ulterior motive behind being nice. She just was.

She seemed to be a good listener and truly was interested in knowing about me. What the hell, right? “When I was five, my mother tried to get us away from my father. We got as far as the first stop on the Greyhound before he found us, and we were brought back. When I woke up the next morning, I found her dead at the bottom of the stairs. I had on my pink pajamas with rainbows on them.” I swallowed. I remembered her crumpled on the dark carpet, her arm bent the wrong way. Her eyes had been open and vacant and staring at the ceiling. I have no idea how long I tried to make her wake up.

“After that, I was alone with my dad.” I didn’t bring my father up because my few friends and every single person in the Denver field office–and quite a few in otherlocations–knew the details. I was the one who’d joined the FBI to get justice.

Dottie didn’t. She pulled out a stool and sat beside me, remained quiet and patiently waited for me to continue.

I picked a craisin out of the salad and nibbled on it. “I’ll just say he wasn’t a nice man. I studied hard, got a full ride for college, and entered the FBI so I could put him in jail.”

“Did you?” she whispered, her eyes wide, full of curiosity, not pity. I didn’t miss the way her fists were clenched, as if she wanted to pop him in the nose.

I laughed and gave her a big smile. “Oh yeah.”

“Of course, you did.” She patted my hand that rested on the counter. “You’re so strong and brave. Good for you, honey.”

Strong? Brave? That was what she thought of me? She seemed… proud?

I wasn’t sure what to do with that. “So love? Nah.”

I returned my focus to my salad. Took a big bite. My story was sad and not in a boohoo sort of way, but totally sucks-to-be-you.Iwas pretty sad.

“Don’t you want to find Mr. Right?” she wondered.

I shook my head. “I don’t need a man in my life to be happy.”

“No, of course not. But a man’s good forsome things.I can think of a few fromBack In The Saddlealone.”

It was impossible not to roll my eyes. “You mean Dax.”

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