Page 65 of Fixer for the Billionaire

My sister Gabi's voice is shrill, panicked on the other end. "Mina! Oh my God, Mina! You have to come over right now!"

I can hear the tears in her voice and my heart drops into my stomach. "What's wrong? What happened?"

"Val ate something from the mini-bar, and we think it had pistachios in it! She's having an allergic reaction!"

"Did you check the right-hand pocket of her backpack for her EpiPen?" I shoot back, struggling to keep my voice steady.

"It's not there, Carmina! I swear, it's not there. What do we do?!" Gabi's voice is high-pitched, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

Panic surges through me like a cold wave. "Okay, okay, stay calm." But my voice is anything but calm.

Heavy footsteps echo behind me, and Quentin's beside me in an instant, his face lined with concern. "What's wrong?"

"Val ate something... she's allergic... can't find her EpiPen," I stammer, my own panic rising.

Flashback. A phone call just months ago, Gabi's frantic voice on the other end. "Mina! Val's not breathing!"

The memory is a blur, but I remember the gut-wrenching fear. The terror. The helplessness. The knowledge that I might lose her.

I can’t believe this is happening again. This can't happen again. I won't let it.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Quentin's deep voice.

"We need to call emergency services."

Then, "Carmina. Carmina... Carmina!"

I snap back to the present, Quentin shaking my shoulders, his eyes burning into me. "Carmina, can you hear me? Take my phone off the nightstand. I'll talk to Gabi. Call 9-1-1. Now. We'll head to their room. We'll find the EpiPen."

I nod, my hands shaking as I rush back into the bedroom—the one we'd just made love in—and grab Quentin's phone.

My heart pounds in my chest, fear coursing through my body like electricity. But I push it aside, dialing the emergency number, my fingers fumbling over the buttons as I call.

Chapter Twenty-Six

QUENTIN

Hospital waiting rooms have a way of making time stand still and warp simultaneously.

It's like we're stuck in a time bubble, a parallel universe where the outside world carries on, blissfully unaware of the drama unfolding in our little corner of reality.

In this fluorescent-lit corner of San Francisco, Gabi, Freddie, Carmina, and I set up camp, waiting for the green light to see Val post-allergy scare.

The air is thick with tension. Gabi's small frame shudders with silent sobs, her face the picture of teenage worry. Seeing her like that, I can't just stand by.

Leaning over to Freddie, I slip her some cash. "Mind hitting the vending machine? Chocolate and chips might be just what the doctor ordered."

Freddie catches on immediately, her eyes softening with understanding. "C'mon, Gabi. Let's raid the machine. I bet it's hiding the good stuff," she coaxes, and together, they disappear down the hallway.

Turning back, I find Carmina, her eyes fixed on the dull, patterned hospital carpet, lost in thought. Her vulnerability is palpable, a stark contrast to the strong, determined woman I've come to admire so deeply.

I wrap an arm around her shoulders, offering what little comfort I can. Her dark wavy hair smells of lavender, and I inhale deeply, trying to calm my racing heart. "She's going to be okay," I whisper, not sure if I'm trying to convince her or myself.

Carmina nods silently but doesn’t pull away. Allowing her body to lean into me now, she sighs, the floodgates finally opening.

"Quentin, I'm scared," she whispers, her voice cracking.

My chest squeezes. "I know."

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