Page 85 of Fiona and the Fixer

“You deserve to be pampered, honey.”

The nail tech sat at the little stool and went to work trimming the nails on my left foot.

“I think Dax is in love with me,” I said.

Her eyes lit up with glee. “I think so, too.”

She didn’t have bionic hearing, or so I assumed. “Why do you think that?”

She waved her hand. “The way he looks at you.”

Looks at me?

“How’s that?”

“Like he wants to eat you up and perhaps strangle you at the same time.”

I couldn’t help but laugh because her guess was probably pretty accurate. “I think I drive him crazy.”

“In all the right ways.”

“Dottie, I don’t think I know what love is,” I admitted, watching the nail tech instead of meeting her wise gaze. “I mean, I didn’t have good examples growing up and work is all about bad guys. My life isn’t like what you have here in Coal Springs. All hay bales and painted pumpkins.”

Dottie raised her foot from the sudsy water and set it on the towel covered footrest for her nail tech to get to work.

“Right now, your lifeiswhat it’s like here in Coal Springs.”

I didn’t tell her I’d stayed in town after knowing Hannah wasn’t around to snoop around a pickle shop.

“Based on the sash you won, you’re pretty good at painted pumpkins,” she added.

I couldn’t help but smile at the goofy night. “That was fun.”

“You get to choose how your life goes.” She reached outand patted my hand. “I know, honey, your childhood was rough going. That you were driven to put your father in jail says it all.”

I nodded.

“I’m proud of you for that. So proud. But how long has he been in jail?”

“Five years.”

“He’s still winning, honey.”

I frowned as I switched feet for the nail tech.

“What? No way. He’s in jail for the rest of his life.”

“Your goal was to get him to pay for his crimes. He is. You’re still going after the bad guy. But different ones now. Why?”

“Because they do bad things.”

She nodded. “Yes, but did you want to save the world or just rid the world of your dad?”

I chewed on that for a bit. The nail tech pumped some lotion onto her hands and started giving me a foot massage.

“If you want to save the world, then go get ‘em. But you need to be happy, honey. What makes you happy?”

“Your food,” I admitted easily.

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