Page 13 of Fixer for the Billionaire

Val, brimming with the enthusiasm only an eleven-year-old could have for weekend education, adds, "And we're launching rockets in science today! I even researched making my own rocket fuel.”

“That’s something I’ve forbidden her to do, for safety reasons,” I quickly add, earning an eye roll from Val.

Quentin raises an eyebrow, a half-smile on his lips. "Sounds like an adventurous day. Well, I'm glad I can help make it less stressful. Buckle up, team; we've got places to be and rockets to launch."

The girls seem satisfied with that.

Then Gabi, the resident social media sleuth, leans forward, her dark brows furrowed in mock seriousness. "So, Quentin, your dating life's all over Instagram. What's it like, dating in the limelight? Any tips for someone aspiring to fame-by-association?" she asks, her brown eyes eager for gossip.

Val furrows her brows for a different reason. "And about this Escalade... it's huge. Is it, like, good for the planet? My science project's all about reducing our carbon footprint, and this doesn't seem very... eco-friendly," she concludes, her dark eyes scanning the leather interior with concern.

Quentin laughs, green eyes crinkling. He looks at me before clearing his throat. "Well, it seems the little sister apples didn't fall far from the big sister tree..." he mumbles.

"What was that?" Val leans forward.

"Nothing. Just...thinking. To answer your questions," he glances at the girls in the rearview mirror, "don't believe everything you see online." He winks at Gabi. "And about the Escalade, don't worry, Val. It's a hybrid. Plus, I plant a tree for every mile I drive. How's that for balance?"

Val nods, seemingly pacified by his commitment to environmental reparation.

But Gabi isn’t done. "That post about your date last month. Was she really a circus performer? And the pet tiger?"

Quentin chuckles, shaking his head. "I wish it was all true, but no, it was just a staged photoshoot for a brand. And no tiger. That would be a recipe for ending up like a disposable extra in a Wes Craven movie."

Gabi raises an eyebrow. "Who's Wes Craven?"

Quentin blinks, then looks at me with raised brows. "What have you been teaching these young ladies?"

"More important things. Like how to change a tire and do taxes."

"Well, we'll have to add 'watching horror films' to the list. Wes Craven's a horror genius."

Val leans forward, her voice tinged with curiosity. "So, Quentin, got any scary movie recommendations?"

"Hmm, well," Quentin says, lifting one hand from the steering wheel to scratch his chin, "you have to start with the classics like 'The Shining' or 'Halloween'. If you're up for some modern scares, 'Hereditary' or 'Get Out' are solid choices. Want to really freak yourself out? Watch them alone in the dark." He smirks.

Gabi's eyes go wide. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on that."

Quentin's laugh, a deep rumble, fills the car, blending with the sound of the quickening rain outside. "But seriously, horror movies are more than just scares. They often reflect societal fears and issues. Perfect for date night, too."

“Not that she's planning on dating any time soon.” I send Val a side glance.

“The ‘date’ part is for the adults here. The scares are for the kids...and me.” Quentin grins. “If you need it, I offer moral support, Val.”

Driving through the city, Quentin points out landmarks featured in horror films, sharing anecdotes. We pass a mansion famous for its appearances in several scary movies.

His references to "The Ring" and "The Poltergeist" captivate Gabi and Val, leaving them hanging on every word.

It reminds me of three years ago when I first met Quentin at the company retreat. Tall, with dark dirty-blond hair and piercing pine-green eyes, he was immediately magnetic.

Confident and charming, Quentin could command a room effortlessly.

I was captivated by his passion for...well, anything, really.

As we sat by the campfire that night, beers in hand, talking movies, I was eager to learn more about him. But as I did, the illusion faded.

Like the horror films he adored, Quentin was skilled in deception.

Beneath his charismatic exterior was a self-centered man.

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