Page 81 of Fixer for the Billionaire

"We were just cooking dinner."

"Yeah, yeah, sure you were. If I had walked in a minute later, I bet I'd have found you two recreating the spaghetti scene from 'Lady and the Tramp' with carbonara." As she lines up her homemade cookies like soldiers on parade, Freddie's tone shifts to something more reflective. "You know," she starts, not looking up, "I've been mulling over what you said about me always playing the 'professional sidekick' and finding my own calling. Got me thinking... I've even started making a list."

"Oh? And what's at the top of this list?"

Without missing a beat, she announces, "I've decided to become a live-in nanny."

The room fills with a brief but potent silence before I burst into laughter, thinking it's another one of her jokes. But Freddie's expression is dead serious.

"No, really. Think about it," she continues, "free lodging, endless food, access to snacks at all hours, and thanks to working for the Andersons, I now have connections to half the billionaires on the West Coast."

"A nanny, huh? That’s quite the career pivot. And you, surrounded by kids and their snacks? Sounds like a dream."

Freddie nods, handing me an array of cookies like playing cards. "Exactly. Who wouldn't want to get paid for building LEGO castles and making sure the kids don't put forks in the toaster? And get this—you'll never guess who my first potential gig is with..."

I lean in, captivated by the buildup. "Who?"

"Ryder and Jenny. You know, now that they're expecting."

The cookies I'm arranging on the plate clatter as her words sink in. "Wait, what?" My voice is an octave higher, disbelief etched into every syllable. "Jenny’s pregnant? What? How—I mean, when?”

“Very recently from the looks of things.”

“And you knew before me?” My voice goes shrill. “Her Maid of Honor?"

Freddie shrugs, a guilty yet sheepish smile spreading across her face. "Surprise?"

I'm shocked into silence. The phone call with Jenny just twenty minutes ago. She tried to tell me something, but I cut her off.

"I—I..." I stammer as Freddie grabs my shoulders.

"Look at me. It's okay. It's all okay. You're going to be an auntie." Her blue gaze drills into mine. "Right?"

"Uh, right."

My eyes start filling with tears of happiness, as Freddie places a plate of cookies in my hands.

"No, no, no," she directs, repositioning my hands and the plate. "No crying until after the movie. We're going to watch whatever blood-and-guts movie your sisters have put on and we're stuffing our faces with these delicious cookies. This is a happy night."

She pushes me slowly through the kitchen, towards the living room, and with one free hand, I wipe my eyes, nodding and smiling through the tears.

The sight of Quentin, Gabi, Val, and a mended Pork Chop—the building blocks who make up my world—sprawled out on the couch hits me right in the chest, making my heart swell.

And now, a new addition on the way.

I couldn't ask for anything more.

"You're right." I nod at Freddie, placing a hand over hers on my shoulder. "You're absolutely right. Best night ever."

I reach Quentin, passing him the plate of cookies, before settling teary-eyed into his arms, the opening credits beginning to roll over the TV screen.

Epilogue

One year and a half later

QUENTIN

I still can't believe we turned our modest backyard into the epicenter of the liveliest first birthday bash this side of the Mississippi.

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