Page 4 of Fixer for the Billionaire

She stands up. "Not another word. We're celebrating our engagement, and you two are joining in, like it or not. Finish that bottle. Ryder and I will handle things at the office." She grabs her fiancé's hand, leading him out. "Enjoy!"

As the door shuts behind them, Quentin turns to me, his smirk more mischievous. "Looks like we're stuck together." He winks as I order something stronger.

"Believe me, Quentin: there's nowhere I'd rather not be."

I sip my drink, trying to ignore the thrill from his teasing.

Quentin's gaze drops to my blouse, his grin widening. "Looks like you brought a plus-one. Got a little hitchhiker in your cleavage."

Glancing down, I spot it: remnants of this morning's spaghetti.

I groan, attempting to remove it discreetly, but Quentin's amused look makes it impossible.

He hands me his napkin, leaning in. "Interesting choice for food storage, Sanchez."

Great. Just great.

One down, eight weeks to go.

I reach for the champagne.

So much for the bright side of today.

Chapter Two

QUENTIN

"You've gotta be kidding me," Alton's eyes widen in disbelief. "You actually said that to Carmina's face?"

The surprise isn't limited to my oldest brother, Hare & Holeton's CFO and Lead Counsel. Around the table, the entire Anderson crew mirrors his shock, even Derek, who's usually as stoic as they come.

I tap my fingers on the pristine white tablecloth of Sopra, the crown jewel of Derek's Italian restaurant empire. Just seven hours after my luncheon with Carmina, it was clear I needed a drink.

However, I hadn't expected my older brothers and cousin to ambush me for details, especially after Ryder spilled the beans on my latest "assignment"—playing Best Man to Carmina's Maid of Honor.

Inside my CEO brother's downtown Seattle establishment, I find him, Alton, and even Killian, our cousin who typically avoids family melodrama, all leaning forward with the kind of eagerness I usually reserve for the latest Blumhouse horror flick.

After a day like today, I'd normally collapse on my sectional, jalapeño pizza slice in hand, yelling "Don't go in there!" at the TV. But here I am, trapped with my overly curious family, who only seem to unite over our collective mishaps.

And, as luck would have it, this time it's my turn in the hot seat.

I mentally vow to stockpile pizza and horror movies for the foreseeable future.

"Quentin, answer the question," Derek demands, his tone sharp yet amused.

I sigh, taking a long sip of cognac. "Yes, I did say it to her face," I confess, eliciting cheers and howls of laughter from my brothers. "But it was...it was just a joke."

"Reminding her that her problem with you is because she hasn't been laid since the Eisenhower administration? Classic joke," Killian says, grinning devilishly.

I groan, covering my face. "Why did I agree to this Best Man gig again?"

Derek claps my shoulder. "Because you love Ryder enough to endure us for a day."

"Yeah, well, I love my sanity more. Hanging out with you lot is a one-way ticket to insanity."

"Look on the bright side," Alton interjects. "The Best Man speech is your chance to roast Ryder."

That idea actually brings a smile to my face. I already have a mental list of embarrassing stories about my brother and his bride-to-be.

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