Page 96 of Fiona and the Fixer

“Fiona overheard you.”

“I know. She texted me what I said.”

“More than Canadian steel imports, you moron. She heard you telling Jack that you’re a…” She glanced around and lowered her voice. “A fixer.”

“What? We were in the car driving away when I said that.”

“Yeah, well she heard. She lost her shit.”

I had to think back to what I’d said.

I didn’t have to think long, because Jack filled me in. “She knows you’re working for the pickle people and she’s the problem you’re supposed to fix,” he provided. “She knows you’re a fixer and that I’m a former hitman. Am I right?” He looked to Hannah.

Hannah really liked to nod. “She thinks you’re in her bed as part of the job.”

I closed my eyes. “Fuck. That’s not it at all. The first time we weren’t even in a–”

I bit my lip, not wanting to tell Hannah we’d defiled the erotic section of her store. And her desk.

“She also thinks that you called us back from our Hawaiian vacation so Jack can…” She ran her finger across her throat.

“What the fuck? Of course not!” I set my hands on my hips, annoyed.

“I know that.” She pointed at herself, then me. “You know that. Jack knows that.Fionadoesn’t. She’s the FBI! You need to fix it. Now.” Hannah tapped her shoe on the tile floor as if she expectedmeto teleport to Fiona and grovel.

“These past few days have been ridiculous,” I admitted,running a hand over the back of my neck. “Between your store, storytime, the–”

“Storytime!” Hannah laughed. “God, you readTheir Kidnapped Bride?”

“Chapter three,” I gritted out.

Hannah put her fingers over her mouth trying to stifle more laughter, her eyes like saucers. She’d read the book and knewexactlyhow uncomfortable it had been.

“What’s in chapter three?” Jack asked, glancing between us.

Because a mother came in with two toddlers jumping up and down in excitement for a box of chocolate donut holes, Hannah went up on her tiptoes and whispered in Jack’s ear. A slow grin spread across his face. “I’m not up for sharing, but the rest? I’m game if you are, gorgeous.”

I rolled my eyes, knowing exactly what he was talking about.

“Can we stay on topic, please?” I prodded.

“What, you don’t want to talk anal before you have your donut?” Jack whispered.

I raised my hand and used my fingers to start ticking off all the insanity that had taken place when I was supposed to be taking a break. “There was a convenience store armed robbery, Fiona snooping at the pickle store and I had to tell them she was pregnant and had a craving to get us out of there. Then she had to protect me from the women of this town. They’re… feral.”

“You read chapter three. No wonder they’re feral,” Hannah countered.

“Now Max Pinter wants me to take care of Fiona because his pickle cronies have pictures of her snooping.”

“That’s easily solved. Just kick her out of town,” Jack said, as if he was wiping his hands of the problem in one sentence.

I shook my head. “She took a bag of the drugs. Oh, and they’re in your desk drawer, Hannah.”

“Order for Dex!” the goth girl called.

I didn’t correct her as I took the box.

“What do you mean she took a bag of pills?” Jack asked once we were out in the parking lot. “Gorgeous, you want a ride home?”

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