Page 19 of The Fixer

“I wanted to talk to you, to see if you knew anyone I could sell the company to. I know you can’t afford to buy me out, and I don’t want to sell to just anyone. I want someone you can work with, someone who will give you just as much consideration as my dad did.”

“Oh.” Niles blinked, then stood, raising his gaze to the city outside the windows.

“I don’t want to rush into it,” I continued, rising to stand next to him. “But if you could ask around, see if there’s anyone interested, that would be really great.”

“Of course. Of course, I will.”

“Thanks, Uncle Niles.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, resting my head against his shoulder. The man draped his arm around me and dragged me closer, pressing a kiss to my crown.

“Of course,” he murmured. “Anything for you, kid.”

Though he tried to talk me out of it, I insisted on going into my father’s office, on sifting through his things. Childish artwork hung in frames on one wall, with pictures of me and my mom and dad as I grew up. High school and college graduation pictures, with me between my dad and Niles, were hung in a collage beside his desk. And on the desktop, in gilded frames, sat pictures of my mom, of me, and one each of Mr. Jingles I and II.

Tears welled in my eyes and dripped down my cheeks as I took down the frames, spending time grieving all over again with each and every one. After taking down all my father’s personal effects, I turned my attention to the papers stacked on his desk and the table behind his couch.

The desk was locked, and I had no key. The computer was password protected and I had no way in. After what felt like minutes in that office, but was most definitely hours based on the way the sun was drooping in the sky, I was nearly drained. I grabbed some of the pictures off the desk and shoved them in my purse, then rose to leave.

“You’re still here?” The voice startled me and I jumped, looking up from the floor.

“Niles! Goodness, you scared me!” He was leaning against the door jamb, arms crossed over his chest, and I pressed at the place over my thumping heart. “I was just leaving.”

He rubbed his hand across his jaw as I approached, not moving from the doorway as I stepped in front of him. “About your question earlier, I’ll see what I can do. I’m sure we can figure something out for you.”

“Thanks, Uncle Niles,” I told him, giving him a quick hug. “I appreciate it.”

“You take care of yourself, Eliza. I’ll see you soon.”

By the time I made it home, my stomach was growling from lack of food. My mind turned to Jet and the amazing meal he’d made me the night before. As if the mere thought of him called out to the universe, my phone rang in my hand. I finished unlocking my door and pushed through into the apartment as I raised my phone to my ear.

“I was supposed to call you,” I said by way of greeting.

“Mmm, call me impatient. I wanted to see how you were. Did you have a good day?”

My throat tightened with emotion, and I swallowed against it as I put my purse down and pulled Dad’s pictures out. “It was okay. Emotional. I’m sure I spent half the day crying over the tiniest things.”

“That’s natural,” Jet soothed in that calming voice of his. “Going through those memories can be tough.”

“It definitely was.” I went to the fridge and took out the opened can of cat food before grabbing a clean plate off the drying rack by the sink. “I don’t even think I got very far. Dad’s desk is locked, and I don’t know his password to his computer. I’m going to go through the box you brought me from the funeral home and see if there are any keys.”

With the cat food on the floor, I turned my attention to finding myself something to eat. But the fridge was nearly empty after cleaning it out that morning, and my cupboards were mostly bare.

“I have no food,” I muttered to myself.

“Need me to come cook you dinner again?” Jet asked with a chuckle that warmed me.

“Um, pretty much every night. I’m no good at this kind of thing.”

“Have you always had someone to take care of you?”

“Just the opposite,” I said without meaning to. I hadn’t meant to go there, to bring anything about that up, but it slipped out without a thought. I clamped my mouth shut, and in the silence that followed, I heard a car engine start. To change the course the conversation was on, I asked, “Where are you?”

“I’m coming to get you.”

The gruff rumble of those words sparked something inside of me. Electricity skated my skin, raising the hair on the back of my neck and heating my entire body from the inside out. I clutched at the neckline of my blouse as I darted a glance around the room.

“What?” My voice trembled and a shiver raced down my spine.

There was a beat of silence, and in it, fear wound its way through me, weaving through every tissue and every bone, seeping into the very cells of my blood. Jet’s voice, that same rough sound as before, was a salve over an open wound.