Free The Fix (Carolina Connections #1) by Sylvie Stewart Page A

still hadn’t
acknowledged my presence and was busy building a Lego structure of some kind.
“You’ll love it!”
    While
the two women silently communicated with each other in a series of
indecipherable facial expressions and hand gestures I accepted the invitation
before it could be revoked. “Sounds great!”
    ***
    “Are
you the man with the construction trucks?” Rocco spoke his first words to me ten
minutes later. We were all seated at the hideous blue table over bowls of
admittedly delicious pasta. Fiona could cook .
    “I
am,” I said, thrilled to finally have something that might win the kid over. I
needed all the help I could get. “You like construction trucks?”
    “Yeah.
Uncle Gavin took me to see them yesterday but we only stayed for a minute. My
favorite is the back hoe.” All of his “s” sounds came out as “th” sounds and I
had to admit it was pretty damn cute.
    “That
is a good one.” I nodded at him.
    He
twitched his nose and went back to his meatball. It seemed I was dismissed. So
much for that.
    As
Fiona had been preparing the pasta earlier, I took the opportunity to explain
to Laney that my tirade yesterday had been the result of things that had
nothing to do with her or her friend. I did a bit of light groveling and she
seemed to be receptive on the condition that I also apologize to Charlotte. I had
agreed and the matter was closed. Why she chose to bring it up again over our
nice dinner, then, was beyond me. I was just hoping that the presence of Fiona
and Rocco would help to keep things friendly.
    “So
Nate, you really don’t have any idea what kinds of businesses will rent the
space?” She licked some pasta sauce from her top lip and I had trouble
concentrating on her question for a minute.
    “Uh,
not really at this point, Laney. I mean, certain types of businesses couldn’t
be licensed on this particular property anyway. There are rules for required
distances from churches, schools and what-not, but I can’t really help you out
too much with anything concrete.” I brought another forkful of the delicious
pasta to my mouth.
    “But
you’ll own the property, so technically you can decide whether or not to rent
it out to specific people, right?”
    Oh
no, we were not going there tonight. We were having a nice meal, her friend
seemed to like me well enough, her kid had even spoken to me. I was not messing
this up.
    I
finished chewing and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “There’s actually a lot more
that goes into those kinds of decisions. Is there any more of that garlic
bread, Fiona?”
    “Sure
thing, Nate.” Fiona handed me the bread basket. “I’m sure Nate’s company will
do its best, Laney . They don’t want trouble any more than you do, isn’t that
right, Nate?” Fiona smiled at me and then let her eyes shift to Laney.
    “Right,”
I responded and then shoved a whole piece of bread in my mouth so I wouldn’t
have to say another word.
    “But
let’s just speak in hypotheticals,” Laney continued, undaunted. It was like she
was trying to annoy me. What was I saying? Of course she was trying to
annoy me. “You wouldn’t rent the space to, say, a medical practice, would you?”
    Genuinely
confused, I forced the bread down my throat in a painful lump and responded in
a tight voice, “What’s wrong with a medical practice? You could walk Rocco to a
doctor’s appointment.” I gestured to the kid.
    “I
don’t wanna go to the doctor!” Rocco objected vehemently.
    “Nobody’s
going to the doctor,” Fiona soothed him.
    “Yeah,
and some junkie would break in at night and raid the drug cabinet. That happens
more than you realize,” Laney declared, hand waving in the air.
    I
turned my head to the left and then to the right, looking for what? I had no
clue. “What are you, a true crime author?”
    “What’s
a junkie?” Rocco chimed in at the same time.
    Sensing,
as I was, that this was going nowhere good, Fiona interjected, “Time