Page 29 of The Fixer

“I hate that guy. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize; he’s my ex for a reason.” Her face is unhappy. “I wish I could afford to buy him out.”

Simon has no interest in running the studio, but he’s petty as fuck. Ali wants to buy out his share, but he’s asking for an insane amount of money. Meanwhile, he doesn’t do a damn thing to keep the business going. That’s all Ali.

“Anyway.” She straightens her shoulders. “How was your mother’s birthday? Did she like her dress?”

“She loved it.” And then our lives all fell apart.

“As she should have. It was lovely. All your clothes are.” She casts an eye over me. “Is that a new skirt?”

I look down to see what I’m wearing. Oh, my Paris skirt. I’d fallen in love with the fabric at first sight. It’s blue, with little red Eiffel towers printed onit, interspersed with baguettes and bottles of wine. “No, I made this a couple of years ago.”

“I’ve never seen it before. I love it.” She slips out of her sandals and puts on her trainers. “Thank you for lending me your red dress, by the way. I’d have brought it back tonight, but I went by the dry cleaner on the way here, and it wasn’t ready.”

“No worries.” Ali was attending an industry award ceremony but had nothing to wear. We’re roughly the same size, so I told her to borrow anything she wanted from my closet. “How did it go?” Ali was up for an award. “Did you win?”

“I did.”

“Congratulations!” I stare at my friend as I change into my sports bra. “Why don’t you look more excited?”

“Take a guess. Go on.”

“Simon was there.”

“Yup. They seated us at the same table. He spent the entire evening telling anyone who’d listen that he was the one who designed the class, not me, but he let me take credit out of the goodness of his heart.”

“Have I mentioned I hate Simon?”

She shuts her locker door with a bang. “Get in line, Rosa. Get in line.”

Leo showsup halfway through my class. I feel a weight on the back of my neck, and when I turn around, he’s standing outside, staring at me through the glass window, a brooding expression on his face.

My heart jumps. For a moment, I lose focus entirely and fall flat on my ass. Great. So much for my vaunted self-defense skills. I pick myself up, my cheeks flushed, and make myself pay attention to Ali as she leads us through kicks, rolls, and grappling. When the lesson is done, I change quickly, slip my ring over my finger, and head outside.

“Sorry I kept you,” I say, stretching up and kissing him on the cheek.

“You didn’t,” he replies. “I was early. I wanted to watch you fight.” He grins. “Very impressive.”

Thank heavens Leo wasn’t here when Simon grabbed my arm. Somehow, I don’t think that would have gone well for Simon. He might be a trained MMA instructor, but my money is on my fiancé.

“I fellflat on my ass.”

“Falling is an occupational hazard.” He inclines his head toward me. “Want to go get dinner?”

I’m starving. Lunch seems like hours ago. “I’d love to.”

“What do you feel like eating?”

“Pizza?” I ask hopefully.

“Sure.”

Leo picks a small, intimate restaurant. “Best pizza in Venice,” he promises. “Trust me.”

The waitress brings us a carafe of red wine and takes our order. Once she’s gone, I take a sip and smile at Leo. “This is delicious. Do you come here often?”

“Once a week, sometimes less.” He grimaces. “When you get to my age, you’ll realize your body doesn’t appreciate pizza for every meal.”

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