Page 1 of Tracked By the Fixer

Chapter One

Lilly

“No, no, no!” I yell as my car sputters to a stop on the side of the road. My only saving grace is that there’s hardly any traffic on this side of town.

“Today of all days!” I exclaim, trying to get the vehicle to roar back to life without any effect. “Come on, sweetheart.”

My car, predictably, doesn’t listen. I’ve had her for five years, ever since I turned sixteen. She was past her prime even then, and I don’t even want to think about how much money I’ve poured into this vehicle.

With a sigh, I call my mechanic and tell him my location. Then I call my best friend, Wendy. The death rattle that my car just gave doesn’t make me optimistic about the mechanic’s chances of fixing her, so I’ll need a ride home at least. Plus, after the day I had, I need to vent.

My mechanic gets here quickly — I think he feels sorry for me. It’s not a good thing, but I’ll take the fast service. This might be the only good luck I have all day.

As I’m running through the issue, Wendy arrives, parking behind my useless vehicle. The mechanic tells me to wait in her car while he takes a look at mine, and I do, grateful to be out of the cold. Wendy hands me a cup of hot chocolate from our favorite local coffee shop.

“I figured you could use that,” she says as I take her offering.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” I confirm, taking a sip and letting the sweetness wash over my tastebuds. “The car is just the icing on the cake.”

“Your boss?” she guesses.

Mr. Tomlinson, who is technically my boss's husband, has what some might call a wandering eye. Ever since I started nannying their toddler a few months ago, he’s been…friendly. I thought it was innocent at first, and I was more than happy to accept the extra money on top of my salary to spend time with him after my shift once or twice a week. His wife works a lot, so I thought he was just lonely.

Boy, was I wrong.

“What did he do this time?” Wendy asks, reading the expression on my face.

I sigh, recounting the event in my mind. I mutter, “Honestly, nothingreally.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well, Mrs. Tomlinson came home,” I reply, my hand tightening on the cup. “But, uh, you know how I told you I was going to turn down his offers for those extra shifts?”

“Don’t tell me you broke that promise to yourself, Lilly,” Wendy groans. “I told you I’d help you look for another job.”

“Of course I didn’t break it,” I respond, bristling at the implication. “But…it upset Mr. Tomlinson. He, uh…well, he called me some choice words and kind of backed me into a corner. I thought he was gonna—”

I grit my teeth, feeling myself get angry all over again. At the time, I was frozen with fear. As soon as Mrs. Tomlinson came in, I saw red. I was ushered out before I could say anything, though. I had only barely calmed down when my car went kaput, and now this conversation was bringing back all those emotions I was desperate to push back inside.

“That fucking jerk,” Wendy says, her jaw tightening. She doesn’t curse often, so the phrase hits hard and makes me even angrier. “Who does he think he is? And his wife is gorgeous! Not that you aren’t, but I mean, come on!”

“No, I agree,” I say, my body heating up with rage. “When she got there, I wanted to lay into him, but he basically pushed me out of the house.”

Wendy goes quiet, her eyes locked on the mechanic as he works. After a moment of silence, she says, “I bet we could convince this guy to rough him up.”

I hum as I consider it, but shake my head after a moment saying, “It’s not worth it, Wendy. Plus, if I do anything, I want Mr. Tomlinson to know it’s me.”

She huffs, crossing her arms and leaning back in her seat. Then, her face lights up as an idea strikes her.

“Just tell him off right now!”

“Wendy—”

“No, listen,” she says, turning toward me. “You have his phone number. Send him a text. Tell him he can’t treat you like that or you’ll quit!”

“I can’t just threaten to quit,” I say, but the protest sounds weak to my own ears.

“You can’t keep putting up with his harassment either,” she replies with a shrug. “Like I said, I’ll help you look for a new job if it comes to that. I know you can’t start teaching until you get your degree, but I’m sure you could do more tutoring or nannying until then.”

---