Fixer: A Bad Boy Romance

by Samantha Westlake

"What, you liked watching me twist my ankles and topple over?"

  He shrugged. "They made your legs look nice, that's all."

  That response shut me up, and we walked the next couple blocks to the restaurant in silence.

  The Mexican restaurant that Carter picked out, Taqueria El Burrito, was booming and busy, and the interior was filled with the chatter of customers, even drowning out the ever-present Latin music playing in the background. Despite all the customers, however, there were still open seats at the big tables, and the kitchen seemed to be moving orders quickly. We placed our orders at the front, received a number to set on our table, and then snagged chips and salsa on our way over to an open seat.

  "Okay, here's your snackage," Carter said, putting down the basket of tortilla chips. "Now, talk. What made you start crying this morning? I need to know, so I can avoid mentioning it in the future."

  I sighed, grabbing a chip and using it to deliver a big scoop of salsa to my mouth. "Okay, remember how I mentioned that I used to own a house, because I used to be married?"

  Carter nodded, waiting.

  "Well, there's another little bit to that story," I confessed. "See, I told you that I caught Barry cheating on me, and that proved to be the final straw - especially when I put it together that this wasn't a one-time, brand new occurrence. It had been happening behind my back for months, and I only just caught on."

  "So what happened?"

  "So I had to get out of there, right away," I said, pausing for a moment as a pimply teenage waiter delivered a big plate of steaming hot food in front of each of us and darted away. He swept our number off of the table as he left without a backward glance, not asking if we needed anything else. "I didn't want to deal with Barry any more, and I just wanted to get divorced. I told him that, before I stomped out."

  Carter winced. "I'm guessing that the divorce didn't prove as clean of a separation as you wanted."

  "Nope." Angrily, I took a big bite of quesadilla, and then winced as the hot cheese stung at my mouth. Delicious, but almost too hot to eat. "As it turned out, when we got the house, he put it in both of our names - and that included the mortgage. When I got divorced, the market was down, and he insisted that I had to buy out my half of the mortgage, since my name was on the title."

  "What was the damage?"

  I sighed, setting down the hot quesadilla slice before it burned my fingers. "After all the bills and everything, after I'd given up just about everything that I'd saved - and remember, I pooled a lot of our money because I thought we'd be married forever - I still owe a bit over ten thousand dollars."

  Carter nodded; his mouth was full of his burrito, but he clearly wanted me to continue.

  "And the deadline for that bill is in just a couple weeks," I finished. "I'm nowhere near getting that much money - I spent most of what I had left over to move into my cheap little apartment. My uncle Preston took pity on me and offered me the job at his art gallery, even though I don't have any sales experience."

  "Not true," Carter countered. "After all, you told me that you were quite the closer for tomato sales."

  His lips quirked as he finished this sentence, and I had to smile with him. He just had the kind of warm, disarming face that made it impossible to stay mad at, I decided as I looked across the table. It was a kind face, not nearly so self-absorbed and presumptive as Barry's features.

  Not that I was considering him as a potential replacement, of course. I quickly pinched myself under the table to remind my wandering mind that I wasn't yet on the market for any sort of romance.

  "But anyway, if I can sell this big statue by Onyx, the commission would be enough for me to pay back Barry, right now," I said. "And let's face it, I'm not going to earn ten thousand dollars this month by selling little watercolors to the senior citizens who make up most of the gallery's customers. I need to get a big sale, and that giant sculpture is the biggest thing that I could move."

  Carter nodded. "You just need to find someone willing to throw away six figures of perfectly good money on a giant, black stone cock."

  The word sounded absolutely ridiculous coming from his lips, and I laughed before I could stop myself. Little bits of quesadilla sprayed out in front of me, and I gasped in mortification as I threw a hand up in front of my mouth. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!"

  "Don't worry about it," he replied, laughing with me as he passed me a napkin. "I should learn not to make jokes when your mouth's full."

  "Don't make jokes when my mouth is full, don't talk about my cheating scum of an ex-husband... sounds like you've got a lot of rules to follow," I challenged him.

  He just smiled. "I think that I'm up for the challenge."

  I caught myself as I beamed back at him. We were flirting! That's what this was! Just when I'd told myself that I was off limits for romance, here I was, not even five minutes later, out flirting with this sexy real estate agent!

  After a moment, however, my smile faded as I remembered the seriousness of my situation. "Anyway, my challenge is that I need to find someone to buy that sculpture. I really don't want to have to think about any sort of alternate method for getting my hands on the money I need to pay off my ex-husband."

  "I'll see what I can do," Carter said, and I paused with a chip halfway to my mouth.

  "You want to buy it?"

  "Oh, heavens no," he answered quickly. "That thing definitely would look out of place in my own place! But I do know some art collectors, and I'll give them a ring to see if any of them might be shopping for a new centerpiece."

  "I don't even know how I'll convince someone that it's art, and not pornography," I lamented.

  Carter shrugged. "Look, you just need to find someone who feels really insecure and wants to prove that he's got nothing to hide - or maybe someone who's hurting after a divorce, and really wants to stick it to his or her former partner that they weren't that great in bed. Whatever the reason might be, you only need to get one sale, and you'll be set. Just one. That's not that bad, is it?"

  His tone, just as much as his words, helped to cheer me up. "Yeah, I guess it's manageable."

  "Great!" Carter took another bite of his burrito, and then frowned down at it. "I always forget just how much food they bring us, here. I don't think I'm going to be even close to finishing this."

  I guiltily said nothing, not looking down at my mostly emptied plate. I hadn't had much breakfast, I told myself. That was why I laid into the quesadilla I ordered, leaving little more than a couple of scraps behind on my plate.

  Carter took a moment to wrap up his burrito, and then smiled back at me. "This was fun," he said.

  "Yeah, it was." Surprisingly, I really did feel that way! Carter was just so likable, so disarming, and I found it so easy to hold a conversation with him. Where I might have stumbled or paused awkwardly with another person, Carter kept the conversation flowing, moving forward - and, of course, he wasn't too bad on the eyes, either.

  "How about dinner?"

  I paused, frozen halfway through the act of dropping my napkin on top of my plate to cover up its emptiness. "Dinner?" I repeated blankly.

  "Yeah, tonight. Got any plans?"

  My mouth had already half-formed the shape of the word no before I caught myself. Of course I didn't have plans, but I also didn't really want to be jumping into dates with a new guy, especially when the old guy wasn't even all the way out of my life yet. What could happen if Carter and Barry ended up crossing paths? For a moment, I saw myself as the potential future guest on Jerry Springer. "This ho can't wait to jump into bed with another man!"

  I must have stayed silent for too long, because Carter's easy smile turned to a slight frown. "Did I say something wrong?"

  "No, no, it's nothing you said," I quickly reassured him. "I just... I'm not sure if I'm ready to move this fast, yet. I mean, it sounds dumb, but I'm still trying to tie up the loose ends from my divorce. You probably don't want to get caught up in any of that drama."

  "It's true that I'm not one
for drama," he said, but he didn't drop the subject yet. "How about we just go out to dinner as friends? Just for fun. No relationship strings involved."

  I knew that I should stick to my guns and say no, but he looked so cute, like a puppy, and I heard Portia's voice insisting that I needed to get back on the horse and move past Barry. I could go out with a guy without making it into a full relationship, right? Just a fun, friendly, low-key date that didn't mean anything?

  "Okay," I gave in. "But it's just casual. Nothing serious."

  "I'll make nothing but jokes for the entire night," Carter promised, beaming back at me. "I can even be especially lewd, checking you out all night. That will totally keep you from feeling pulled into a new relationship. By the end of the night, you'll want nothing to do with me."

  "Right, totally repulsive," I agreed, as my mind swam with the image of Carter James, sexy smiling real estate agent, thinking about my naked body.

  The quesadilla sitting in my stomach shifted a little, and I winced. Maybe I could manage to do a couple thousand sit-ups between now and dinner, to try and make the naked body in Carter's fantasies a little less... blobby.

  Carter pulled out his phone, and I gave him my address. "Perfect," he told me before we parted ways outside of Taqueria El Burrito. "I'll swing by and pick you up around seven."

  "Can't wait," I lied brightly, as my stomach did another little nervous flip.

  Chapter Thirteen

  *

  The rest of the afternoon, my brain kept on bouncing up and down, from highs to lows, like it was strapped onto a roller coaster. One moment, I found myself unable to keep a silly grin off of my face as I remembered Carter's enthusiastic flirting with me. The next moment, my grin turned upside down and plunged into a frown as I remembered how I still needed to come up with thousands of dollars of disposable income, how my stupid divorce still threatened, months later, to drag me all the way down to bankruptcy.

  What would happen if, heaven forbid, the worst possible outcome happened, and I couldn't manage to get the money for Barry? I'd been trying not to reflect on this bleak possibility, but I figured that I should at least consider some sort of last-ditch plan.

  I didn't know the details of declaring bankruptcy, but it seemed like the sort of thing that was worth trying to avoid at all costs. But then again, from whom could I borrow that kind of money? I knew that Portia didn't have an extra ten thousand dollars just lying around. I could maybe think about approaching my parents, but I even knew how much it would hurt them. My mom and dad were happily retired, but they'd worked hard for many years to save up their nest egg. That egg wouldn't take kindly to getting raided for ten thousand dollars in order to bail out their daughter for her marriage mistake.

  Okay, mind off of this, onto something else. Something happier. Think about this date with Carter tonight. What would he want to do? Where would he take me?

  My god, I realized, sitting up a little straighter behind the front desk at the art gallery, what was I going to wear?

  I did my best to mentally flick through the contents of my closet at home as I waited for the clock to finally creep towards five o'clock, closing time. What sort of style should I be aiming to hit? Did I want to come off as a good girl, as wholesome, or should I embrace Portia's idea of just throwing myself into the sack and go with something slutty?

  Even after I arrived back home, I remained half-paralyzed as I stared into my open closet. "What do you think?" I asked Salem, now sitting nearby on my bed with all four of his feet tucked under his furry body. He looked like a large black potato with a head.

  Salem just yawned back at me, rolling onto his back and twisting around on top of my comforter, looking like he was in ecstasy. "Fat lot of help you are," I told him, and returned back to the closet.

  I did have some little black dresses in the back, which would typically be suitable for a date like this - but, I realized with a little twinge of embarrassment, it had been quite a while since I'd tried one of them on. I was fairly certain that I'd put on at least a couple of pounds since I last bought one of those cute dresses. They likely wouldn't look quite so cute on me now.

  Still, with a lack of other options, I dug them out and forced myself into one of them. Turning back and forth in front of the mirror, self-consciously sliding my hands down over the sides and my hips to smooth out imaginary wrinkles, I admitted that maybe I could pull one of these off still. They certainly didn't leave much to the imagination, especially up around the bust, but maybe that would be enough to distract Carter from how my rather plump butt stretched out the fabric down around my hips. I definitely belonged in a dress slightly larger, but maybe he'd take me somewhere dark, and no one would notice.

  "This will have to do," I told Salem as I scratched him under the chin. He purred up at me, blinking his eyes in approval. At least my cat thought that I looked okay.

  A minute later, he stood up and rubbed against me as I knelt over him on the bed, covering me in a fine layer of his hairs. "Jerk," I told him as I headed into the kitchen area to snag the lint roller that I kept on hand for situations like these.

  As I rolled the sticky surface over my dress, trying to pull off those stubborn cat hairs, my phone buzzed on the counter. "Hello?" I said, answering it.

  "It's Carter - I'm outside. Come on down."

  "Should I bring anything?" I asked. "Do I need a jacket, or running shoes, or a mask, or anything like that? I don't know what you have planned for tonight."

  He chuckled. "Just bring yourself. Nothing too fancy is on the agenda - nothing requiring special equipment."

  Just to be safe, I snagged a light jacket as I headed for the front door. The spring evenings were usually pretty mild, but a chill still occasionally developed.

  "Be good and guard the house," I ordered Salem, who had wandered out of the bedroom to watch me leave. I pointed a finger at him, as if he understood my words. "Stay out of trouble."

  I locked my apartment door behind me and headed downstairs, keeping my hands pressed down against my sides so that the dress didn't rise up. Already, I kind of wished that I'd worn pants.

  Right outside my apartment building, I spotted a black car, looking elegant and expensive, although I couldn't make out the make or model in the dim light. The car flashed its lights, and I guessed that this was either Carter, or a guy hoping to pick up a prostitute. I headed over, trying the passenger door and finding it unlocked.

  "Wow," Carter commented as I slid into the passenger seat. His eyes ran over me, lingering on my chest for a moment before he dragged them up to my face. "You look great."

  "Thanks, but I don't feel like it," I replied automatically. "I've put on a little weight since I got this dress."

  "Still looks amazing," he insisted, as the car pulled away from the curb with a rumble of its engine. "Good thing you brought a jacket. You're going to distract me and make us crash if you're not careful!"

  I glanced down at my cleavage on display, feeling a little better at his words. "So where are we headed? Fancy restaurant?"

  "Is that where you think I'd take you?" he asked.

  I tried to imagine what I'd pictured for this date. "Yeah, I was thinking somewhere with exposed wood, brass railings, brandy that costs forty dollars per glass, waiters in tuxedos, the whole nine yards."

  Carter just snorted. "Well, you'll see in a few minutes."

  When we pulled into a restaurant's parking lot, I discovered that I'd be eating my words. Carter had picked out a comfortable looking restaurant, the kind of place I'd consider perfect for lazing about with a pint of beer on a Sunday afternoon. Just to emphasize my outfit error, the host who greeted us at the door was wearing blue jeans.

  "I feel a little overdressed," I admitted as we slid into the booth that was provided for us.

  Carter smiled at me. "Trust me, you look great. A bit distracting from the meal, in fact."

  "Yeah? What am I making you think about?"

  His smile widened. "I'm thinking about
how long it would take for me to drive to my apartment from here."

  "Why- ohh." I felt heat creep up into my cheeks as I caught onto his suggestion, and I hoped that the fairly dim lighting in the place would hide my growing blush.

  We ordered food, but I honestly forgot what I requested as soon as I passed the menu over to the waiter. For the night, I spent most of my time just listening to Carter. I'd hoped to be distracted from my current money concerns, and it was as if he knew what I wanted - and he did an amazing job.

  "Really? You grew up poor?" I exclaimed, smiling as I took a sip of my margarita. "I don't believe it - everything about you just seems so smooth and polished, like you've always had this much money!"

  Carter shrugged, looking a little embarrassed about his wealth. He did the thing where he swept his hand through his hair again, mussing it up and looking even more adorable. "I need to put on this impression for my clients. No one wants to buy or rent a property from someone who doesn't look successful. But I've had to teach myself how to act proper all on my own; I didn't grow up this way."

  "So how did you grow up?" I asked, leaning forward and feeling entranced.

  His eyes were drawn down for a moment before answering, caught by the almost magnetic pull of my cleavage on display. Normally, I would have quickly sat back to avoid giving him such an unabashed view, but the margarita told me to relax and give him a chance to enjoy the sights. Its voice seemed strangely convincing.

  "I grew up pretty normally," Carter admitted after a minute, forcing his gaze back up to meet my eyes. "One older brother, happily married parents, little house in the suburbs. Whole deal, might as well have had the white picket fence and everything. Very solidly middle class, maybe slightly lower than average. I wore a lot of my older brother's hand-me-downs."

  "And then you headed off to the big city and set your sights on riches and wealth through commercial real estate?" I guessed.

  He laughed. "Not quite. I went off to college, decided that I'd become an engineer, but couldn't handle the math and the devotion. Ended up scraping through classes to earn my degree, but my grades were awful, particularly at the end. I knew that I wasn't going to land a job with that degree, so I started trying to find something to keep me from becoming homeless."