Page 8 of The Fix Up

“I’ll pay whatever fee you think is necessary,”he’d told her on the phone. “Triple it if you think the assignment isunusualenough to warrant it.”

She grabbed the soggy paper cup and gripped it tight in her hand.Ben.

Could she really turn down the chance to save her business based on the fear she couldn’t control herself around Ben Langley? All the guy needed was a little help tapping into that alpha male CEO she’d glimpsed lurking inside him. He wanted professional rebranding, not an excuse to roll around naked with her.

Her thoughts veered dangerously with that mental picture—all that heat and muscle and sweat—which was probably a bad sign right off the bat.

But she forced herself to focus. All she had to do was stay professional. To do the job Ben hired her to do, then tell him good-bye once they finished their business. No illicit hookups, no messy relationships, nothing to undo all this hard work she’d put into building First Impressions from the rubble of her divorce. She’d learned her lesson already, hadn’t she?

She licked her lips and regarded the loan officer. “How long do I have?”

The woman steepled her hands on the desk. “Thirty days.”

Holly nodded, then stood on shaky legs and stuffed the paperwork in her bag. “I’ll find a way to do this.”

She turned and walked out of the office, hoping like hell she wasn’t too late to take Ben up on his offer.

* * *

“Ben, my boy!”

Ben looked up from his computer to see his father marching into his office wearing a purple polo shirt and plaid pants so hideous they had to be either very trendy or very expensive. Probably both.

Lyle Langley clapped Ben on the shoulder hard enough to knock his glasses askew, which was no small feat considering Ben was a good six inches taller than his dad.

Probably why he always slugs you when you’re sitting down, his subconscious pointed out.

He straightened his glasses, squared his shoulders, and turned to face his father. “What’s up, Dad?”

“How about we get out there and play nine holes before the Kleinberger dinner?”

“Nine holes?” Ben repeated, trying not to stare at the pants.

His father frowned. “Golf. In golf you can either play nine holes or?—”

“I understand how golf works,” Ben said, knowing that was only partly true. He’d done it enough times to keep up on the course, and he’d read several books on the game so he could hold his own in golf chatter with his father’s colleagues. But honestly, the thought of playing even one hole right now made Ben want to slug himself in the forehead with a nine-iron.

“The boys from Kleinberger wanted to hit the ball around a little while they’re in town,” his father continued, picking up Ben’s paperweight and tossing it from one hand to the other. “Good opportunity for you to get acquainted, let them see Langley Enterprises is going to be in good hands with you at the helm of domestic relations.”

“And you think my golf swing is the key to that?”

His dad frowned and stopped tossing the paperweight. “As opposed to your shining personality?”

“Point taken,” Ben said, annoyed the barb stung as much as it did.

“You’ve gotta step up now, son,” Lyle said, his voice turning serious. “It’s time to stop screwing around with your face buried in a book and prove you’re a real Langley.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” he said, wishing he sounded more like an authoritative leader and less like a nerdy middle school kid who’d dropped his science project in the parking lot. One more thing Holly could have helped him with.

“Look—I really need to go over these spreadsheets before the end of the day,” Ben said. “I think I’ve pinpointed a couple areas where I might be able to save Langley Enterprises several hundred thousand dollars in translation and localization for our foreign sales.”

He watched his father’s eyes light up, and he felt a rush of relief at having finally found a common language with the old man.

“A few hundred thousand, eh?” He clapped Ben on the shoulder again and grinned. “Atta boy. You keep at it then. You’ll be at the event tonight, right?”

“Right. I’ll be there.”

“Not alone, I hope. Wouldn’t be my son if you don’t show up with a woman on your arm.”

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