Page 18 of The Fix

“Where’s …” I trail off the spoken thought about any other rooms in the house, entering the primary suite with a lift in my hopes. “Wow.”

Another wall of windows just as tall as the living space opens the room up to the setting sunlight that bathes it in a pleasant glow.

But that’s not what has me rushing forward.

This time, it’s a massive four-poster bed that resembles a cloud in all its blindingly crisp white linens and intricate frame.

It beckons me. Calls to me.

I bypass running my hands over the wooden encasement to see if it’s actually carved and allow myself to fall face-first into its softness.

“Oh, God,” I mutter into the comforter, my words muffled by the fluff settling in around me like a cool embrace.

It’s so peaceful.

Exhaustion, heavy and damning, weighs down on me and threatens to steal my consciousness with each moment that I lie here.

So I push myself up to sit and pull my case onto the mattress beside me.

It’s a stake. A claim for the room lest my new roommate thinks this space is fair game. There’s no way he’s getting this luxury when he’s the sole reason we’re stuck in this damn cabin.

Speaking of … Tobias Jeffers has been too quiet.

I slip out of my heels and leave them neatly by the bed. My curiosity pulls me across the plush rug in the direction I had just come from, distracting me from my quest to save the bassist from himself. Toby duty can wait. Three doors stare at me, two set into the wooden wall at the front and another to my left.

Which door?

I settle on the one closest to the entryway I came through and push open the solid panel to reveal a bathroom equipped for a queen. There’s a tub the size of a pool, a dual vanity setup, and a small closet with a shelf running around the room just below hip height.

Impressive.

I promise myself a more thorough exploration later and move back into the suite to open the next door. Inside, a closet as large as my entire apartment greets me, complete with an excessive number of fancy lights and built-in mirrors that likely double as storage. Shaking my head, I close the door and turn to the next. This one, a frosted glass door typical of those leading to back patios, hints at the outdoors.

Cold air rushes in when I pull the door open, and I gasp at the sudden chill when I step out onto the porch. Another picturesque view is trapped between the roof and the railing. I pull out my phone to capture the moment.

Maybe this won’t be so bad.

Soft strumming draws me back to the freezing porch. The sounds mingle with the hum of a motor, drawing my gaze from the snow-capped peaks to a cloud of steam in the porch’s far corner. As I approach, the smell of chlorine hits me, and the air grows noticeably warmer. Of course, Leo installed a hot tub.

The smile I felt pulling up drops when I notice Toby perched on the edge, his feet dangling in the water, his old acoustic in lap.

“Good to see you’ve made yourself at home, Jeffers.” I roll my eyes as I turn back toward the open door.

“Still not pretty enough, huh, Ms. Prune?” Toby retorts, drawing an audible huff from me.

“If you’re going to insult me, can it at least make sense?”

He snorts, fiddling over the strings. The melody sounds familiar but unidentifiable, as I step into the toasty cabin and shut the man outside.

Maybe he’ll freeze to death and solve all of my problems.

But then, that would be a lot to explain to not just the local authorities, but my boss as well. Then the media.

“Crap,” I mutter, rolling my eyes as I head to my suitcase in search of something warmer to wear.

Chapter Nine

Toby