The Fix (Carolina Connections #1) (8 page)

“So,
Nate, I hear you’ve been stirring up some trouble in the neighborhood,” Fiona
led with a wink.

“Oh
no,” Laney interjected, “none of that. Nate is just here to apologize for yesterday
and then he’s going to be on his way.” She had lost her slightly frazzled
demeanor and was back in command.

“No!”
Fiona argued and looked beseechingly at me. “You have to stay for dinner. I’m
making penne with a fabulous tomato cream sauce and meatballs for my main man
over there.” She tipped her chin toward the table where Rocco still hadn’t
acknowledged my presence and was busy building a Lego structure of some kind.
“You’ll love it!”

While
the two women silently communicated with each other in a series of
indecipherable facial expressions and hand gestures I accepted the invitation
before it could be revoked. “Sounds great!”

***

“Are
you the man with the construction trucks?” Rocco spoke his first words to me ten
minutes later. We were all seated at the hideous blue table over bowls of
admittedly delicious pasta. Fiona could
cook
.

“I
am,” I said, thrilled to finally have something that might win the kid over. I
needed all the help I could get. “You like construction trucks?”

“Yeah.
Uncle Gavin took me to see them yesterday but we only stayed for a minute. My
favorite is the back hoe.” All of his “s” sounds came out as “th” sounds and I
had to admit it was pretty damn cute.

“That
is a good one.” I nodded at him.

He
twitched his nose and went back to his meatball. It seemed I was dismissed. So
much for that.

As
Fiona had been preparing the pasta earlier, I took the opportunity to explain
to Laney that my tirade yesterday had been the result of things that had
nothing to do with her or her friend. I did a bit of light groveling and she
seemed to be receptive on the condition that I also apologize to Charlotte. I had
agreed and the matter was closed. Why she chose to bring it up again over our
nice dinner, then, was beyond me. I was just hoping that the presence of Fiona
and Rocco would help to keep things friendly.

“So
Nate, you really don’t have any idea what kinds of businesses will rent the
space?” She licked some pasta sauce from her top lip and I had trouble
concentrating on her question for a minute.

“Uh,
not really at this point, Laney. I mean, certain types of businesses couldn’t
be licensed on this particular property anyway. There are rules for required
distances from churches, schools and what-not, but I can’t really help you out
too much with anything concrete.” I brought another forkful of the delicious
pasta to my mouth.

“But
you’ll own the property, so technically you can decide whether or not to rent
it out to specific people, right?”

Oh
no, we were not going there tonight. We were having a nice meal, her friend
seemed to like me well enough, her kid had even spoken to me. I was not messing
this up.

I
finished chewing and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “There’s actually a lot more
that goes into those kinds of decisions. Is there any more of that garlic
bread, Fiona?”

“Sure
thing, Nate.” Fiona handed me the bread basket. “I’m sure Nate’s company will
do its best,
Laney
. They don’t want trouble any more than you do, isn’t that
right, Nate?” Fiona smiled at me and then let her eyes shift to Laney.

“Right,”
I responded and then shoved a whole piece of bread in my mouth so I wouldn’t
have to say another word.

“But
let’s just speak in hypotheticals,” Laney continued, undaunted. It was like she
was
trying
to annoy me. What was I saying? Of course she was trying to
annoy me. “You wouldn’t rent the space to, say, a medical practice, would you?”

Genuinely
confused, I forced the bread down my throat in a painful lump and responded in
a tight voice, “What’s wrong with a medical practice? You could walk Rocco to a
doctor’s appointment.” I gestured to the kid.

“I
don’t wanna go to the doctor!” Rocco objected vehemently.

“Nobody’s
going to the doctor,” Fiona soothed him.

“Yeah,
and some junkie would break in at night and raid the drug cabinet. That happens
more than you realize,” Laney declared, hand waving in the air.

I
turned my head to the left and then to the right, looking for what? I had no
clue. “What are you, a true crime author?”

“What’s
a junkie?” Rocco chimed in at the same time.

Sensing,
as I was, that this was going nowhere good, Fiona interjected, “Time for
dessert!”

***

Thankfully,
the rest of the evening went smoothly. Fiona was very chatty, Laney tolerated
my presence, and Rocco even spoke a handful of words to me. Laney and I
exchanged a few more heated looks, hers possibly fueled more by annoyance than
lust, but I’d take what I could get at this point. I had yet to get Laney alone
again, though, so when it was time to leave I was thrilled that Fiona led Rocco
down the back hall and Laney was left to walk me to the door.

“So,
thanks for dinner,” I said.

“Thank
Fiona. She invited you.” Laney tried to glare at me but instead I got a
reluctant smile. Damn, she was pretty. Tonight she had her hair up in a messy
ponytail and she was wearing a black t-shirt and cut-off jeans, neither of
which could hide her curves. I was dying to kiss her, but I figured she’d
probably slap me at this point.

As
we approached the door I remembered the damn door knob. “Laney, you can’t go to
sleep with your door like this,” I told her.

She
waved me off. “I know. It keeps falling off but I can fix it. At least
temporarily – until Gavin gets to it.” She opened the door and I had no choice
but to step out onto the porch.

“No
offense to your brother, Laney, but he doesn’t know shit about fixing things
from what I’ve seen so far.”

That
earned me a bigger smile. “We’ll figure it out.”

“You
know, I did notice a couple things in your kitchen that could use some
attention too, and I’ve been told I’m pretty handy…”

“Handy
or handsy?”

“Funny.”

“I
thought so.”

“I’ve
got some free time this weekend. I’d be happy to come over tomorrow and fix a
few things. Truthfully, I’ve been spending so much time on the phone and
driving from place to place that I haven’t actually held a tool in weeks – it’s
killing me.”

Oddly,
she seemed to be holding back a laugh at first and ducked her chin to her
chest. But then she raised her head back up, schooling her expression and starting
to shake her head.

“That
would be awesome!” Fiona’s head popped in from out of nowhere. “She’ll see you
tomorrow morning.” The door closed in my face.

“I’ll
be here at nine. I’ll bring coffee!” I yelled through the door before turning
around and stepping off the porch.

“She
doesn’t drink coffee!” came the voice through the door.

I
smiled. I’d have to get creative then.

Boom!

Laney

“Oh
my God, when I turned around and saw that man I swear I ovulated on the spot.
Boom!
Instant fertility. They should give that guy out as a prescription – fertility
clinics nationwide would fold overnight.” Fiona looked at me dreamily and then
switched to her mad face (which was ineffective on its best day). “Lucy, you
got some ‘splainin’ to do – you did not accurately describe just how edible
that guy was!” Her expression changed again as the wheels turned. “And did you
see the way he was eye-fucking you across the table?” She fanned herself.

I
put my hand over her mouth and looked over her shoulder. “Little ears, Fee!”

She
peeled my hand off her face. “He’s in the bathroom. I told him to brush his
teeth so I could come back and eavesdrop.”

“You
know he’s not brushing his teeth, right? He’ll be back out here in three
minutes wearing only his underwear and asking what he was supposed to be doing
in there,” I told her. “And Nate was not eye-fucking me! I can’t believe you
invited him over here tomorrow!” I whisper-yelled.

“Maybe
I should open my own matchmaking business – it’s coming back in style, you
know. It could be ‘Matched by Fiona’.” She motioned an imaginary sign in the
air in front of her. “Kind of like Nate’s company, ‘Built by Murphy’. It could
be kind of a family thing.” She gave a giggle.

“Fair
warning – I may kill you. In the meantime, do I owe you a portion of my dowry
now or will later be fine?”

“Later
works for me.”

***

A
second dessert, one supervised round with the toothbrush, and three books later,
Rocco was finally in bed and Fiona and I were relaxed on the couch with wine
and girl talk.

“So,
what happened to his dad?” Nate was still the topic at hand.

“Gavin
said he had a heart attack a few weeks ago and Nate moved back to take over the
family business until he recovers,” I told her. “I heard Nate talking on the
phone about trying to find relaxing things for his dad to do with his time.
Sounds like a fairly long recovery.”

“Oh
my God,” Fiona gushed and put a hand to her face as though I’d just handed her
a puppy with a giant pink bow. “That is
so
sweet. He said he just moved
back but I didn’t know all of that. See? He’s hot
and
he loves his
family.”

“Yeah,
just what I’ve always wanted – a sexy man who loves his family and hates women,”
I sniped. I was trying desperately to hold onto my mad but my resolve was
fading. Evidently I was holding a puppy too, but mine had taken a roll in a
pile of poo and still needed some work before it was as adorable as Fiona’s.

Fiona
swiped at my arm. “He doesn’t hate women. So he was totally sexist yesterday –
a real pig – but listen to
us
. We’ve been reducing him to a cut of
brainless man meat for the last ten minutes! Face it - we
all
suck. But
he apologized, didn’t he? And he did seem genuinely interested in helping you.”
Her eyes sparked with a familiar shine. “And besides, did you see that ass? Like
I said, ‘
Boom!
’” She did the fist-explosion thing.

“Stop.
The last thing my ovaries need is encouragement to start sending out party
invitations. Do I need to remind you what happened six years ago? And besides, you’re
missing an important point.
We
kept our sexist talk private –
he
broadcast his to all and sundry!”

“‘
All
and sundry?’
Are we in a Jane Austen novel now?” She set down her wine
glass and sat upright on the couch. “I say, that gentleman’s posterior looked
positively fetching in those britches, don’t you concur?”

I
threw a couch pillow at her.

“Anyway,”
she continued. “It doesn’t matter now because he’s coming over tomorrow and
there’s nothing you can do about it. Can I come over and watch? I’ll bring
popcorn.”

“Give
me that pillow back. I need something to smother you with.”

“Aww,
I love you too, Laney.”

A
voice came from the kitchen. “There
is
a God. I think they’re gonna kiss.”

Fabulous,
Gavin and his trusty side-kick were home.

“You
know that’s my sister, right?”

“She’s
not
my
sister,” came the response from Brett, Gavin’s best friend since
high school. They both stood at the half wall watching us on the couch.

“Hi
Brett,” Fiona and I chimed in unison. It’s fun to play with dumb animals.

He
may have whimpered a little while Gavin continued moving into the living room.
“Who’s coming over tomorrow?”

I
arranged my face into what I hoped was an innocent look.

“Your
hot new boss.” Fiona threw my ass under the bus.

“No
no no No NO,” Gavin’s voice escalated as he moved closer to me. “You promised
me you were going to stay out of this! Jesus, Laney! You’ve spent the last two
years nagging me to ‘get over it’ and I finally do exactly what you wanted and
you start fucking it all up!”

“Be
quiet! Rocco is sleeping!” I respond in only a slightly lower tone.

“You
be quiet! I can’t believe you! Call him back and tell him you made a terrible
mistake and you and the mom squad are backing down for good. I actually like
this job and I don’t want to get fired before my first paycheck!”

“Get
your damn feathers out of a twist, Donald Duck. Nobody’s getting fired. I
didn’t even invite him over tomorrow. He invited himself.”

“Well,
technically I invited him.” Fiona meekly raised her hand. We both ignored her.

“When
exactly did this happen? How was it that you and Nate were even talking to each
other?”

“Listen,
it’s no big deal. He stopped by earlier to apologize for being a dick yesterday–”
I held up my hand to keep him from interrupting, “and he noticed a few things
that needed fixing and offered to come by tomorrow to help out.”

“Brett
and I were going to fix things around here.” His tone calmed slightly.

Fiona
turned to Brett who had also entered the living room by that point. “I didn’t
know you were good with tools. How long has this been going on? I may need you
to come over to my place and fix a few things.”

Brett’s
upper lip appeared to be sweating.

“Since
he was about thirteen, I think,” Gavin said, all tension gone and a repressed
smile replacing it. Hissy fit finished.

“Wow,
that long?” Fiona replied.

“God
dammit
!”
shouted Brett. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash. He
slapped a five dollar bill into Gavin’s already outstretched hand and stormed
off to the kitchen. “Anybody want a beer?” he called out behind him.

***

If
you haven’t already guessed, I am in no way, shape, or form a “tidy” person.
When I know company is coming over, I stuff everything in my bedroom or a
closet. When I do laundry, only about thirty percent of it ever gets folded and
finds its way to a dresser drawer. When I cook a meal, which I don’t do as
often as I should, I first need to wash the knife and cutting board because
they are still sitting in the sink from last night’s meal prep. Essentially, I
was freaking the hell out the next morning in anticipation of Nate’s arrival.

Expecting
that he would probably want to check out the entire house, I was left with very
few options for stashing my mess. Sure he’d seen the kitchen and living room
the night before, but I’d cleared those out before Fiona had arrived – although
why I even bothered doing that for her anymore was beyond me since she was well
aware of my cluttered and chaotic “decorating” style. When everyone was over
last night, there had been no fewer than six pairs of Rocco’s shoes crammed
into the pantry, not to mention the unopened mail behind a potted plant and the
giant pile of toys and clothes on my bed (or, more recently, my floor, since
I’d shoved them all off before I’d gone to sleep last night). So today I spent
the entire morning alternately chugging Diet Coke and doing my best to make the
house look like it didn’t belong on an episode of
Hoarders
. A twinge of
guilt almost penetrated when Rocco came out of his room and asked what was
going on with his bed.

“I
made it,” I told him, assuming this was explanation enough.

“Huh?”

“You
know, I tucked the sheets in the sides and arranged the comforter and pillow
and stuff.”

“I
don’t get it. They’re just gonna get all pulled out when I go to bed tonight.”

My
kid was a genius.

“Exactly.”
I kissed him on the head just as the dying doorbell wailed.

Shit,
poop, shit!
 I wasn’t ready! I was all sweaty and
I’m sure my hair was a disaster. I needed another shower after running around
the house like an insane person. Well, too late now. Both hands rubbed at my
cheeks.

Whatever.
It wasn’t like I wanted to impress him or anything.
Pshhh.

I
trailed Rocco to the front door like I was approaching my execution and watched
him turn the finicky knob. And there, standing on my front porch, was my
executioner – all six foot whatever of him in a threadbare t-shirt designed to render
women speechless and send urgent signals right to their hoo-has. His shirt impeccably
showcased his muscular chest and arms, and a pair of worn army green cargo
pants showcased, well, all of
that
. And then there was the face which
looked even more flawless than it had yesterday, if that were possible – and
next to the dazzlingly panty-melting smile sat one perfect dimple. The freaking
puppy had had a full spa day. How the hell was I going to resist a fluffy puppy
with not just a giant pink bow but a fucking dimple?

“Hey,
Rocco. Laney.” Nate pulled a box of Krispy Kreme doughnuts out from behind his
back. Of course he did. My stomach joined my lady bits in celebration.

“Doughnuts!”
Rocco squealed.

“Will
this buy my entry?” Nate asked.

“Come
on in, Nate.” I stood aside and he handed the box of doughnuts to me. Hmm,
apparently he didn’t want any. He bent down and picked up a bag I hadn’t
noticed by his booted foot. I assumed it held his tools and supplies. He
followed Rocco and me to the kitchen, closing the front door behind him.

“So
you
did
fix it,” he observed of the knob.

“Kind
of.” I twisted my mouth to the side, resigned to letting him have his way with
my, um, house.

“I
brought a replacement anyway. I hope you don’t mind.”

Rocco
was already at the table stuffing his face with a doughnut, bits of glaze
littering the space around him as well as his cheeks and chin.

My
kitchen was super cute, but I could see Nate’s eyes assessing it the night
before and I doubted he appreciated the awesomeness of my shabby chic table and
my vintage fridge. I had to admit that the linoleum had to go, and in my dreams
I’d get granite countertops and maybe even an island. But the kitchen as a
whole was actually quite roomy and nobody could argue against the big picture
window that gave a primo view of the backyard. I’d dressed it in flowy white
cotton curtains with turquoise tie-backs to match my table. I thought it looked
amazing.

Rocco
finished swallowing his last bite and spotted Nate’s bag. “You got tools?”

“Sure
do. I’m going to fix a few things for your mom. Maybe you can help me out.”
Nate leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. I may have
drooled a little.

Rocco
looked to me and then back to Nate. “I don’t know if I’d be comf-ter-ble with
that.” Nose twitch.

Nate
looked a bit surprised and uncomfortable himself. I’m sure he had been
anticipating drawing Rocco out with the offer of doughnuts and tools, but leave
it to my kid to throw him for a loop.

“It’s
okay, buddy. You can do what you want,” I told my son, knowing that pushing
Rocco was never the best plan. “But can you thank Nate for the doughnuts and
then go wash your hands and face in the bathroom?”

“Thank
you for the doughnuts,” he recited and then dashed off to the bathroom.

Nate
and I stood facing each other in silence. He finally pushed off the counter and
said, “So, you mind if I take a look around the place?”

“Help
yourself. It’s not big enough to require a tour so have at it.” Fingers crossed
he wouldn’t open any closets.

He
smiled for some reason and kept looking at me. Did I have something on my face?
There was that dimple again and my lower belly started singing gospel hymns. He
turned and headed for the hallway.

I
craned my neck to watch him go far enough away before I pounced on the doughnut
box and shoved half of a delicious treat in my mouth. Oh, yum.

A
few minutes (and doughnuts) later, Nate returned. I discreetly ran a hand over
my lips to hide any evidence and gave him my own smile.
Nothing to see here.