Page 20 of Fixer for the Billionaire

"Good!" She's halfway through her glass in one gulp, her determination clear. "You need to light a fire and find a man who can handle every part of your life."

"Oh sure, like there's a queue of guys eager to date a workaholic PR director with two teenage sisters smelling like last week's laundry."

"Please, Car. You're smart, successful, and gorgeous. Any guy would be lucky to be with you." She stops, wine glass in hand. "And just so you know, I think you're amazing for taking in Gabi and Val." Her gaze softens. "After everything with your mom, you could've walked away... But you didn't. You stepped up."

Her words warm me from the inside.

"They're amazing too," I say, thinking of the girls who've become my world in just a month.

Jenny raises her glass. "This is your official warning. No more guys who can't handle your real life." She takes a sip. "Honestly, Car, you're better off. You'll find someone much better." She leans in, lowering her voice. "Someone who appreciates you. Who knows how to deliver an orgasm that doesn't feel like a pity prize. Someone who stays, no matter what."

"Assuming he even exists."

"He does. I wasn't a believer until Ryder," she winks, taking another sip.

I snort, thinking of Jenny's fiance, Ryder, our Chief Technology Officer at Hare & Holeton. But then, a sobering thought. "What if he doesn't exist for everyone? What if some people are meant to be alone?"

Her expression softens, ready to respond, but then Freddie interrupts, panicked. "Car, we have a problem."

I blink. "What kind of problem?"

"A big one. Danity's publicist called. Her flight's delayed; she won't make it!"

Great. Here I am, managing my nonexistent love life, and now, an author reading without the author.

"You're kidding," I say, hoping for a joke.

But Freddie's about to lose it, her eyes wide. "What do we do? We've got a room full of people expecting a reading!"

Jenny joins the huddle, previous jokes forgotten. "Can one of us read something? Do we have any of Danity's copies here?"

I shoot her a look. "And who, pray tell, is going to do the reading? You want to stand up there and entertain a crowd expecting Danity?"

"We could always draw straws," Freddie suggests.

The thought of any of us doing the reading sends shivers down my spine—the same kind I get when I realize I've left my townhouse unlocked. Hilarious, really, if it weren't so utterly terrifying.

I glance between Jenny and Freddie, feeling the 'not it' vibes so strongly, you'd think we were in middle school playing tag rather than adults facing a literary mob.

Tonight was supposed to mark a high point in Danity's press tour. Instead, it's devolving into a disaster.

Rubbing my temples, I try to ward off an impending headache. "Okay, let's just calm down. We'll figure something out." I pause. "Like the song says, 'We have to be G's, hustlers.' Maybe we can do a Q&A session instead?"

"Car, I love you, but Snoop Dogg lyrics aren't going to save us," Jenny says, her hazel eyes blinking rapidly. "And unless that wine you're holding is both liquid courage and a talent enhancer, I don't see how any of us can stand in for Danity."

Before Freddie can argue about hidden talents, a deep voice interrupts, making us jump.

"Maybe I can help," says a voice that nearly makes me leap out of my skin.

We whirl around to find Quentin stepping forward, looking sharp in crisp slacks and a jacket that seems tailor-made. He runs a hand through his dark gold hair, a steady gaze silencing Jenny and Freddie.

“I'm quite familiar with Danity's work."

"Quentin." My heart races, relief flooding me. "What are you doing here?"

"I work for Hare & Holeton, like you," he says, eyes shifting to Jenny. "Heard you were in a bind."

Stunned, I process his offer to help. Jenny clears her throat. "We're in a bit of a situation."

---