The Rock Star’s Fake Fiancee - Kenzie Reed Page 0,50

barber shop, leaning on the striped pole. She’s agreed to meet me even though Gramma Mae can’t make it due to a doctor’s appointment. As Fiona put it when I told her, “It’ll probably be really boring without her there, but I’ve got nothing better to do, I guess.”

That kid. God love her.

I mean, someone has to.

I walk up to her with a look of annoyance on my face.

“I read the most interesting article in the newspaper,” I inform her. I hold it up and show her.

She barely glances it. Then she starts walking. “If someone did that, I bet they’d be smart and wear a disguise. Also, wow, look at how pretty those flowers are. Whoever did that is pretty talented, don’t you think?”

I huff out an exasperated breath, following her. “Yes, the flowers are gorgeous but that’s not the point.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is, it’s only a matter of time before whoever did that gets caught.”

“Whatever.”

Well, threats aren’t working. She doesn’t care if she gets arrested. She’s got a dark view of her future, and she seems to think it’s only a matter of time before she goes to “grownup jail”, as she puts it.

I don’t want to give up. My daddy didn’t raise a quitter. “Why do you think a person would do that?”

She responds with her favorite gesture—a sullen shrug. “Bored? Who knows. Who cares.”

I turn this over in my head as we walk. Daddy used to talk about turning problems into opportunities. How can I do that with Fiona? She spray-paints very pretty flowers because she’s bored and angry.

The problem is, she’s painting them in the wrong place.

“Hey, do you want to take an art class? Sandy Sue’s Sewing Studio just expanded and now she has an art supply store, and they’re giving drop-in summer art classes.”

“Really?” She perks up. Then her smile fades, the way it always does when anyone catches her looking too happy. “Probably a bunch of kindergarteners.”

“It isn’t. There’s a kindergarten class, a grade school class, and then there’s one for teens and adults.”

“Why start anything I probably won’t get to finish?”

“Humor me. I’ve been wanting to take an art class.”

“Oh, sure you were.” Her voice turns snide. “How else can I make your dreams come true?”

I’m tempted to verbally bite her head off, then tell her to enjoy the rest of her summer in juvie, but I decide to count to thirty first.

I’ve reached twenty-nine when Fiona throws her hands up in the air. “Fine! I use sarcasm as a defense mechanism.”

I’m still stung by her teenage bitchiness. I swear, if I’d ever acted like her as a teenager, I’d have been spitting out soap, grounded, and my rear end would have glowed like a firefly. “You also use the internet to look up pop psychology phrases so you can justify your bratty behavior,” I say coolly.

She shoves her hands in her pockets. “I guess I should just go home. Who wants to take an art class with someone as bratty as me?”

“Can you stop always assuming the worst about people?”

“Probably not.”

“Have I ever let you down?” I demand. “And it’s obvious the answer is going to be something like ‘not yet’.”

“You know me so well,” Fiona observes dryly.

I stop walking and wave my hand at a brick store-front building with a red awning. “Oh, look where we ended up. Sandy Sue’s Art Supplies. It’s almost like it’s meant to be. Let’s get you signed up.”

Fiona makes a face, but she comes inside with me and stands there while I fill out the form. When I pull out my wallet to pay the hundred-dollar fee for ten classes, her eyes widen in surprise.

“Oh, I didn’t know it would cost that much.”

I pay Sandy Sue, then we walk outside.

“I’ll have to figure out how to get the money,” Fiona says with a worried frown.

I wave my hand dismissively. “It’s fine.”

She stiffens. “I’m not a charity case,” she snaps.

No, you’re a mouthy, thin-skinned little twerp.

“That’s why I’m going to make you work at the hotel to pay for it. We’ll pay you ten bucks an hour to help clean rooms, and maybe bus tables at our restaurant.”

I had no intention of doing that before, but now that I think of it, it’s a good way to keep her busy. Take problems, make them into opportunities. Daddy would be proud.

Fiona’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Wow. My first real job. That’s actually pretty cool.” She’s so pleased that she forgets to look sour. “When