Page 9 of Fixer for the Billionaire

Ignoring the dishes—again—I pull out my phone to message Freddie Stranton, my do-it-all PR specialist. From business to law, and now PR, she's seamlessly meshed with my team, bringing her unique zest to our projects.

Despite her varied background, I can tell she's still searching for her niche. But her energy? Her dedication? Nothing comes close.

I fire off a quick text to let her know I'm running a bit late.

Gonna be a tad late to the engagement party meet-up today. Family drama.

Can you sync up with Quentin Anderson before I make it? He’ll know what’s up

Instantly, my latest PR whiz texts back.

Sure thing. Nothing I love more than working at 7AM on a Saturday ??

A moment passes. Then another.

Just kidding

Seriously, Carmina, you okay? It’s Saturday morning

SATURDAY. MORNING.

Normal people are still asleep, not working. And here you are, not sleeping in or enjoying your day off, but obsessing over Danity Dandridge’s new release?

Look, I’m all for Danity’s novels, but unless the book boyfriends she's writing about are coming to life and cleaning my pipes (no pun intended), I’m not thinking about work this early on a weekend

Danity’s reading at The Rainy Page isn’t until Monday night. A few more hours of Z’s could actually make me more productive later, right?

Oh, come on. This isn’t about work, Freddie

It’s Jenny and Ryder's engagement party

And the bachelor-bachelorette party

I’m in charge, and they have to be perfect. Or as close to perfect as I can get

Oh. My bad. But still, couldn't your Maid of Honor duties have been scheduled during regular business hours? ?

You know, when I’m actually being paid to work?

Freddie's messages make me smirk. She’s not wrong. But my friends mean the world to me, and this engagement party has to be flawless for my best friend.

It’s not like I can rely on many people.

My dad’s too caught up with his new wife, and my mom...well, that’s a different kind of mess.

Like my dad, she’s a topic I avoid dwelling on too much.

Sighing, I text back.

Forget it. I’ll deal with it when I arrive. Just make sure Quentin knows I might be slightly late

And how did you know I was Jen's Maid of Honor? It just happened yesterday.

I have friends. They gossip.

Relaying the message to Quentin, no problem, boss lady.

P.S. If there’s anything else to offload, speak now, or I’m going back to bed the moment I hit Send

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