Mr. Fixit

by Lauren Landish

  Joe drops the flop, and I see magic. Ace of hearts and two sevens. I’ve got a full house—three aces and two sevens. Gavin licks his lips, and I know I have him. I got exactly what I needed. He checks. I knew he was trying to steal the pot.

  “You wanna raise the stakes? I raise twenty thousand,” I reply, shoving in the chips. The odds of him beating my full house are slim to none, and I’ll admit, I’d like to get one over on the former football star.

  I can’t believe it when Gavin calls my bet. “Call,” Gavin says, his hands shaking slightly. Joe gives Gavin a look but shrugs as Gavin moves in the chips, and then he flips over the turn card.

  King of diamonds. Gavin blinks, his eyes tight. “Check,” he says.

  Inside, I grin. I’ve got him. Even if he had two kings in his hand, he loses. “One hundred thousand.”

  There’s not a sound in the room as everyone looks at Gavin, wondering what the fuck he’s doing. Finally, he takes a deep breath and slides his chips into the middle. “Call.”

  Joe drops the river, and I feel a sense of concern. But then I see it’s the ten of clubs. No chance in hell he can beat me, but his next words confuse the hell out of me. “Five hundred grand,” he says.

  Gavin gives me a tight smile and slides the money in. Has he lost his fucking mind? “This one’s mine,” he gloats.

  “Hardly,” I say with a laugh, pushing in my chips. “Call.” Gavin grins again and turns over his cards. “Four sevens.”

  As soon as I see the pair of sevens, the air is ripped from my lungs.

  I stare at the cards in disbelief, feeling numb all over. He raised five grand on a pair of fucking sevens and then flopped four-of-a-kind? How lucky can you be? I can’t believe it—he flopped a four of a kind. Around the table, everyone seems to be echoing my shock. Old Joe, Kevin, and Jason are frozen like statues, staring at me with surprise in their eyes.

  I clench my jaw, anger rising from the pits of my stomach. It doesn’t matter though. I accepted the bet and I lost.

  I get up from my seat, feeling absolutely defeated, ignoring all the eyes on me. “I’ll transfer the funds to your account in the morning,” I say, keeping my tone even, even though I’m fucking pissed with myself. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking.

  It fucking sucks losing that much money, but it’s not going to break me, though it’s sure going to hurt.

  “I’m done for the night. That’s gonna put me on tilt if I keep playing,” I tell them, turning to leave.

  “Wait,” Gavin says, standing up.

  I turn, arching an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

  Gavin glances around at the other men. “Are we done for the night? Let me talk to Oliver alone.”

  Without saying a word, Kevin, Jason, and Joe get up, gather their things, and leave the room, each one casting sympathetic looks my way as they file out.

  “What’s this all about?” I ask. “It’s a lot of money, but you know it’s not going to break me.”

  Gavin stares at me for several moments before asking, “What if you could keep your money?”

  I frown. “What do you mean? I got overconfident and lost fair and square.”

  Gavin goes silent, studying my face. Finally, he speaks up. “I have a proposition for you.”

  “What—”

  “You do a favor for me and we’ll call it even.”

  I want to tell Gavin to go fuck himself. I’m a man, and I pay my debts. But a part of me is intrigued now, and I’m dying to see what Gavin has up his sleeve. “What kind of favor?”

  Gavin steeples his fingers together, staring at me, appraising me.

  “Well?” I ask, the anticipation killing me. “What is it?’

  His next words shoot across the table like a speeding bullet. “I need you to pretend to be a friend’s fiancé for a week.”

  I let out an incredulous laugh. I was totally not expecting something like that. “What?”

  Gavin proceeds to tell me all about his friend, who’s the godmother of his child and best friend of his wife, and how she’s gotten herself into a bind because of a lie.

  “Absolutely not,” I say firmly when he’s done, shaking my head. I’m not gonna lie, his offer is tempting. But there’s no way I can accept it. I have too much lined up. Business meetings, lunch dates . . . and there were those repairs to my mom’s attic I’d promised her I’d fix myself instead of paying some stranger to do it. “I’m not disrupting my life and plans to be some chick’s cuckold for a week.”

  Gavin leans forward in his seat. “Just think of it this way . . . you get to spend a week with a chick for over half a million dollars.”

  “My half a million dollars,” I say dryly.

  “Was your half million,” Gavin corrects. “And you can keep it if you just do this one little thing.”

  I stare at him long and hard. His words are tempting enough, but it suddenly dawns on me how invested he is in this.

  “You set this whole thing up,” I accuse. “You knew I was the only single guy in our circle. You’ve been waiting all night to try to get me in this position.”

  Gavin manages to look guilty but doesn’t say anything.

  I begin to get up from my seat. “I’m done—”

  Gavin reaches into his pocket and tosses a small photograph across the table. As soon as I lay eyes on it, my mouth goes dry. The young woman in the photo is drop-dead gorgeous, with beautiful golden brown hair, gorgeous green eyes that sparkles with mischievousness, and an impish smile to match.

  “Yeah, so what? I was getting shit for cards and had to make a move. I didn’t expect to flop those sevens—that was a miracle. Anyway, it’s one week,” Gavin nearly purrs, watching my intense interest in the photo. “And you have your money.”

  His words hardly register. I can’t seem to bring myself to take my gaze off the picture. The playfulness in her eyes seems to call to me.

  When I finally look away from it, I have only one question on my mind.

  “What did you say her name was?”

  Want to read the rest? Get Mr. Fiance HERE.

  Preview: Heartstopper

  By Lauren Landish

  After ten months without a date, I’m eager to go to the hottest new ticket in town, Club Jasmine.

  I deserve a night of fun. I’ve worked hard and I finally got a promotion. But for one night, I’m going to let loose.

  That’s when I see him.

  The drop-dead gorgeous Jake Stone.

  With his god-like physique, pure blue eyes, and chiseled jawline, he might be the hottest guy I’ve ever laid eyes on. A total heartstopper.

  The man’s probably a player. Then again, maybe that’s what I need—a man who knows what he’s got, knows how to use it, and knows how to make me scream to the heavens.

  Screw it. You only live once.

  But when I go in Monday morning to meet my new boss, I’m greeted by that same irresistible smile.

  And Mr. Stone is making it perfectly clear that strictly professional is not in his vocabulary.

  Chapter 1

  Roxy

  “The guys had better get ready,” I say, twirling my hair around my finger. I’m riding shotgun down the road with my best friend, Hannah Fowler, in her beat-up Lexus sedan. The windows are rolled down, the wind blowing through the cabin and ruffling our hair as the downtown streets whiz by.

  It’s been a long time since I’ve gone out, and boy, have I missed it.

  But tonight I’m going to let loose, I vow. Enjoy myself for once.

  “Why’s that?” Hannah asks as she speeds through a yellow light, glancing over at me. With shoulder-length blonde hair, big round cheeks, and eyes that are as blue as they are huge, she looks a lot like Amanda Seyfried, and she’s played it up a few times. Equipped with a sense of humor that almost rivals mine, she’s basically been my bestie since I struck out on my own. We’re inseparable.

  I grin, flashing my notorious wink I learned from my big sister, Mindy, and boast, “’Cause I’m abo
ut to release the Rox on them!”

  “Did I just hear you just say you’re gonna gobble all the cocks?” Hannah yells over the roar of the wind.

  I laugh. “You know damn well that wasn’t what I said!” I got ninety-nine problems and gobbling cock won’t be one. If anything, that’s on Hannah’s menu, considering the tight black number she’s wearing that looks like it’s been painted on her frame.

  Hannah giggles. “Well, it’s better than unleashing your deprived vajayjay on some poor man!”

  “I can’t help it,” I say, shaking my head. “You go ten months without sex and see how you feel. Knowing you, they’d have to call the Ghostbusters because you’d have fucked half a dozen men to death.”

  We share a good laugh and I smile as I let my arm hang out the window, enjoying the night breeze against my skin. We haven’t even gotten to the best part of the night and I’m already in a good mood. It’s a far cry from the sour, cantankerous pain in the ass I’ve become lately.

  Don’t get me wrong—my job at Franklin Consolidated is okay and all, but it’s not my first love. The grin slowly fades from my face as I think back to three years ago. I was working the club scene and singing at Trixie’s, a local club back home, busting my ass for my big break.

  It never came. There were too many rejection letters, too many times I got passed up on auditions. I almost tried out for X-Factor but got sick right before with a bad cold, so even that didn’t go as planned. Eventually, I set the microphone aside and went back to school. Mom at least had the decency to not say I told you so about my short-lived career as a singer. Instead, she gave me encouragement when I said I was moving away to finish up the degree that I’d been putting off.

  I don’t really know why I moved away. My stepfather, John, has more money than my family could spend in five lifetimes and is more than happy to share it. Champagne, designer dresses, cocktail parties, and vacationing on yachts. I could’ve had it all, the total deb socialite.

  But nepotism is not a life I want for myself. I want to stand on my own two feet like my sister, Mindy. Sure, she ended up marrying a super-handsome, rich stud, but she worked her ass off before that and still does.

  Thinking about her, I feel guilt tighten my chest. I haven’t talked to her or anyone in my family for months. It’s partly because we all lead such busy lives, but I’d argue that Mindy’s life is perfect now. She’s got a great husband, two adorable kids, and a business of her own that she loves running.

  I’m nowhere near there. And I can’t help but have this nagging feeling that even if I’m successful in my new career path, I may never get that feeling. So yeah, a night like this is just what the doctor ordered.

  “Seriously, though, I need this,” I tell Hannah. “We should do this more often.”

  As a gift to us both, Hannah decided to hit the grand opening of Club Jasmine, a brand new nightclub that’s being opened by a couple of rich pricks whose names I don’t know. It’s supposed to be hot and ritzy. I just want to get to the hot part.

  Hannah nods. “I know, honey. You’ve been working hard for what? Ten months? And already getting a promotion. You need to reward yourself.” She shakes her head. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Satisfaction rolls through me. It’s about the only positive thing I can say about my job. My hard work has paid off. I’ve been recognized by the execs, and starting next week, I’m getting promoted, working as an assistant to the new regional president. I’m not his secretary. I’m going to be one of the junior analysts, gathering data and such for him. I can see myself going up the ladder in a couple of years and making big money.

  But at what cost? I think to myself. At this pace, I’ll be sitting in a corner office with nobody to come home to, my best years behind me. The pay might be good, but is it worth giving up the one thing that brings me joy?

  Hannah pulls up to a red light, and I force that troubling thought from my mind, checking my makeup in the mirror. I’ve got dark hair, sparkling hazel eyes, and pouty lips, just like all the women in my family, and I’m pretty enough, I guess. But my spark, that mischievousness that made men weak in the knees, is absent from my eyes.

  I need to get back to doing what I love, even if only on the weekends. Screw prioritizing work.

  “What you should be worried about is the poor guy who’s gonna need a heart monitor when I get done with him,” I say, determined to stay upbeat, snapping my lipstick closed.

  Hannah gives me a serious look and deadpans. “Is it really that bad? I thought you were just joking at first, but Jesus, Rox, I’m kinda scared. You ever see that movie Teeth, with the vagina that grows fangs? I feel like that’s you right now.”

  “Oh, go to hell!” I laugh, but Hannah grins.

  “Seriously, maybe we should just call it a night before you get yourself in trouble. I mean, I’m sure you’ve got something in your drawer at home that will take the edge off.”

  I laugh. “Sorry, only the real thing will do. I prefer my meat hard, throbbing, and able to spray paint the walls.”

  Hannah gags. “Gross! Just make sure you use protection. Don’t want you to wind up on Maury waiting to hear ‘You are the father!’ and the crowd going apeshit.”

  “Okay, Mom. I’ll make sure to snag some of his DNA just in case.”

  We both laugh as she turns a corner, and we see a line of cars stretching up the street.

  Despite all my talk, I probably won’t even sleep with anyone. I’m just here to have fun, unwind, and relax. And if it comes along with getting to flirt with a cute as fuck guy, I’m all for it. The gears might be rusty, but I bet I can still twerk my ass with the best of them after I get warmed up.

  My breath catches in my throat as the club comes into view. It’s beautiful. The parking lot is big and well-lit. The building itself looks like anything but a nightclub, with a large fountain out front and beautiful marble steps that are flanked by grand columns leading to the white double-door entryway. There’s a long line wrapped around the building, and I can tell the grand opening ceremony is already over as they’re just starting to let people in.

  I’ve seen a lot of clubs, but I’m truly impressed with the presentation of this one. Everything I see says the owners sank a lot of money into this place. Honestly, it puts Trixie’s, with its neon sign, disco ball in the ceiling, and pink and purple ambient lighting to shame.

  There’s no room to park in the main lot, so we have to go to the overflow lot down the street, barely finding a parking spot. Getting out, a cool night breeze sweeps the area, causing goosebumps to rise on my skin and excitement to warm my blood. Overhead, the full moon makes me feel like a wolf on the prowl.

  Hannah peers at me, looking around my backside. Unlike her, I’ve opted for a red club dress, one that hugs my curves in all the right places. I got it from Mindy, who had her fair share of good luck in it, so maybe it’ll do the same for me. “Damn, girl, your ass didn’t look that big when we left home. Did you stuff it with some pads or something?”

  I place my hands on my hips and boast, “Girl, seriously? This is all-natural! They write songs about an ass like this!” I start popping my ass, reciting some classic lyrics.

  Hannah bends over, grabbing her sides while laughing. “Oh, my God, stop! You’re killing me.”

  “Stop making fun of my bootyliciousness then and let’s go!”

  Giggling, we make our way to the club, evading people on the street. I see a couple of guys look my way and I feel a little thrill. I don’t see anything I like, though, so I keep going until we reach the club and the line that’s jam-packed out the building. Luckily for us, Hannah has a reservation for us so we don’t have to wait. I’d like to dance sometime before next Tuesday.

  We walk past the men in line, and I feel more eyes on me. These men are all dressed well. There are no open shirts and rolled sleeves but rather suits and ties. It must be the club theme for the grand opening. My confidence should grow, but I’m hit by a sudden feeling of anxiety. Am I re
ally ready to rock someone’s world or am I just looking for companionship? It’s been so long since I’ve been in the social company of the opposite sex. I don’t even know.

  From inside the club, the bass of the music thrums against my body as we reach the door. My heart begins to pound. I almost feel like I’m back at Trixie’s. Almost. The two handsome bouncers are dressed in fitted suits, their hair cut professionally and their designer sunglasses blocking their eyes. They kinda look like the Men In Black. Whoever is running this place isn’t playing around.

  “We have a reservation,” Hannah says. I don’t know how she got it. She’s got connections, I guess. Hannah gives her name and the bouncers let us in, pulling the large double-doors wide.

  The entire interior is just as luxurious as the exterior. The bar stretches around a good quarter of the large rotunda that makes up the main room, lit up beautifully in blues and dim whites. Out on the floor, beautiful women and men dressed in great suits are already dancing beneath a balcony that overlooks everything. There’s a crowd up there, and I bet it’s the VIP section from the way things look.

  My eyes are pulled to the stage that’s set up so that the VIP balcony can watch, and I feel my heart speed up some more. I want to get up there. I want to feel their eyes. I want their applause. I want to rock this place out.

  “This place is incredible,” I finally say. It’s no lie, either. Everything, down to the smallest detail, is amazing.

  “Isn’t it?” Hannah says, perfectly serious. “They really went all out.” Hannah’s eyes hungrily rove over the crowd. “But less talking and more stalking. Let’s hit the bar.”

  We’re not even seated for a full minute before some blonde guy is hitting on Hannah. In my ‘lucky’ red dress, I feel a little deflated.

  My disappointment is short-lived, unfortunately.