Page 31 of Enticing the Fixer

“To prove I’m incompetent.” Her face turns green as if she’s going to get sick. “Did you know who I was when we….” She swallows and looks away from me.

“No. I didn’t know who you were.”

She shakes her head. “Just get out and don’t speak to me again. If I can’t fire you, then at least stay away from me. It’s the least you can do.”

“Kinsley.” I step toward her, and she jumps back, smacking her back against the window.

“Don’t. I want you to go.”

“Fine.” I lick my lips. “I didn’t mean to….” I clear my throat. There’s no way I’m going to make this right. “The night at the bar–”

“Go. Please.” Her wounded eyes plead for me to leave, and I would do anything she begged me to do. That’s what got me into trouble in the first place. I can’t stand to see her in pain. The fixer in me wants to solve all her problems and put stars in her eyes.

“I promise I’ll figure out who’s responsible for this.”

“Go!”

I nod, twist on my heel, and walk to the closed door. My shoulders ache with tension and regret. This is how I anticipated the day would end, but that hadn’t stopped me from pushing for a different result.

For once, my charm and personality aren’t going to do the trick. But money? As I grab the doorknob, I turn my head, looking over my shoulder. Her eyes are haunted as she waits for me to leave. Yeah, money isn’t going to fix this either.

Chapter Fourteen

Leo

When I make it to the top floor of Truman Security, I greet the receptionist sitting behind a desk with a massive computer set up in front of her. “I’m Leo Radcliff. I’m here to see Truman.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Wren….” she pauses. “Truman’s receptionist. I guess…. Whatever I am,” she mutters and then flushes as if she’s realized she’s talking to herself. “I’m sorry.” She smiles and shoves the microphone speaker from in front of her mouth to below her chin. “He’s currently in a meeting. Why don’t you have a seat?” She waves to the black leather sofa across from her.

“Thank you.” I survey the office as I walk to the spot she indicated. The room is large with a seating arrangement–a sofa, a love seat, and two high-backed executive chairs facing each other around a small round table. And a desk for Truman’s assistant. Or whoever she is.

The woman taps her fingernails on the desk. She’s an attractive woman with large eyes and a wide smile. “I’m new to the office. Truman’s….” The tips of her ears are red. “His office manager is currently out, and I’m filling in. I normally work in a different department.”

“I see.” I settle onto the sofa. The cushions are firm but not uncomfortable.

If I had to guess, there’s more to her awkwardness than filling in for a position she’s not comfortable with. But that’s not my business. I have enough problems going on to borrow anymore.

“He should be out any moment.” She glances at her wrist and gnaws on her bottom lip. “Do you think I should tell him you’re here?”

“It’s fine.” I lay the ankle of one leg onto the knee of the other and drag out my cell phone.

Jax: I have a place I’m looking at for the warehouse.

Me: What area?

He sends me the area of town. Good location. Within a four-mile radius, there are ten buildings for sale. And at least three of them would be a perfect fit for a large warehouse.

I scanned the available real estate when we were back in Vegas. It drove my parents crazy that I had a photographic memory. And caused plenty of problems in school and in some relationships.

Jax: What are the properties selling for?

Me: In general, they’re selling at market values. What property are you considering?

Jax: None right now. I was driving in the area and saw a potential location. It’s not far from the river.

I send him the address I’m thinking he’s referencing.

Jax: Quit creeping me out. Someday, I’m going to ask you a question, and you aren’t going to know the answer.

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