The Old Woman and the Sea, and other short stories

Fix It

"We need to hire someone." Rhiannon tapped long, painted fingernails against the mahogany desk. Spread across its surface were the front pages from two of Starling City's most torrid magazines. Rhiannon's EA, Emily, stood on the other side of the table, clutching a clipboard tightly against her chest.

"I've already looked through the Unusual Resumes file," Emily offered. She un-clipped some papers from the clipboard and spread them out on the table, covering the bulk of the articles but leaving their headlines exposed.

Rhiannon quickly shuffled through them.

"Actors and actresses, yes. But only if we know what to do with them. Former mafia members...maybe. And this-- this can't be right."

It wasn't so much a resume as a business card. A thin black rectangle set with small letters in a white font:

Holly McNeal
I can fix anything
Call for references
(555) 371-4297
🧚‍♂️🎡🎠🔱⚜️🦭💱💹💲💲

"Huh. Where did you get this?"

Emily consulted a spreadsheet on her clipboard. "You received this card from Howard Erland six months ago. Said she'd saved his life. You assumed he meant she'd help him cover up some tawdry affair."

"Ah, yes, I remember." Rhiannon sat back in her chair and ran a hand through her close-cropped hair. "Ok. I will call Howard and investigate this--" she tapped on the business card. "Let me know if anything else comes up."

📈📈📈

Howard Erland was smoking a cigar at his desk - directly against orders from his doctor - when his cell phone rang.

"Rhiannon! What a surprise--"

"I'm assuming you've seen the news, Howard."

The aging CEO paused. "I was sorry to see a company like yours get tied up in the latest oil spill scandal."

"I'm sure you're not, Howard," the voice on the other side smiled. "All the better for you, isn't it? I wouldn't be surprised if you've already gotten calls from some of my clients." Howard smiled. "Anyway. I'm calling because six months ago, you gave me a certain business card. Do you remember what I'm talking about? You said she'd saved your life."

Howard knew instantly. "Oh yes, Holly!"

"What exactly did she fix for you?"

"Well, I can't say exactly," he attested. "It would defeat the purpose of asking her to fix it in the first place. But let's just say that...if I were in your shoes, I'd give her a call." He chuckled, "As much as I'd love to see your company burn to the ground, of course."

"Of course."

"Dinner next week? Assuming Holly manages to fix this up for you. The girls have been asking about you."

Rhiannon smiled. "Tell them I'd be delighted."

📈📈📈

Holly was not what Emily had been expecting. She was short, for starters, with shoulder-length red hair tied back in a loose ponytail. She had dressed in thick khaki overalls, a green t-shirt, and black workman's boots. And she was leaning up against an old grey janitor's cart.

Emily lowered her voice to a whisper as she approached. "Not to sound snobby, but I don't know if I can take you to Rhi's office like this. You'll attract too much attention. Not to mention your meeting isn't until 3."

Holly smiled. "Oh, I'm not here to speak to your boss. I'm here to fix a toilet." She patted the cart cheerfully.

Emily paused. "What?"