Kaylee pulled her phone out of her purse as she stepped off the bus and clicked the camera. She studied her face in the screen, wiped a smudge of lipstick away from the corner of her mouth with one finger, and clicked the screen off again. She dusted the front of her pants, straightened her blouse, and walked the quarter block from the bus stop to the nondescript red brick building with the white and black sign above the door. “Print Shop Pros” the sign proclaimed in a catchy font. She took a deep breath and went in.
There were two desks in the lobby area. Behind one sat a middle-aged woman with a phone to her ear. She was typing and nodding while saying “yes, uh-huh” into the phone. At the other desk, a young man in a dress shirt and sweater vest sat typing, sleeves rolled to his elbows. Not wanting to interrupt a phone call, she approached the second desk.
He looked up and gave her a radiant smile. “Good morning! What can I do for you today?”
She couldn’t help but smile back. “I’m Kaylee. I’m supposed to meet Mr. Ganes this morning to discuss an intern position.”
“You’re the college kid?”
“That’s me.”
He stood and extended a hand. “Great to have you!” When he let go of her hand he turned and crossed to a door tucked in the corner. He rapped twice. “Freddie. The kid is here.”
Freddie Ganes came out of his office smiling. “Thanks Mark.” He strode around the desk to shake her hand. “Kylee was it?”
“Kaylee.” He had a firm handshake, but unlike Mark who had been quick and professional, Freddie held her hand a little longer than necessary. Her smile faltered slightly as she slipped her hand free.
“You’re older than I thought you would be.” He looked her over. She knew what he was seeing—a twenty-something-year-old black girl in slacks and a blouse with a messy bun and an imitation leather purse. She hid her past well, but she didn’t look like a wide-eyed hopeful college kid.
“Started college late,” she said. “But I know my stuff.”
His eyes returned to her face and he was all business. “Yes, I saw your portfolio. It was very impressive. We’re a small firm and normally we don’t take on interns, but I had someone go on medical leave and we could use the help.” He gestured and then led the way down the hallway. “We have four full time designers and two guys who run the printers. I understand you want to see all the technical stuff too?”
“If it’s no trouble.”
“We’ll get you in there on a slow day. For now, I’ll just show you around.” He led her to the back of the shop. “You know, it’s not just your age. You really weren’t what I was expecting.”
He was watching her out of the corner of his eye, and it was starting to make her feel uncomfortable. She knew what was coming next—the cheesy pickup line. Or worse, the creepy compliment.
Still, he was going to be her boss for the next few months and what he wrote about her in his reports would reflect on her grades. She had to pass this course, had to get her degree, or the only future she could hope for was pumping gas or flipping burgers. This was her ticket out, and he could take it, rip it to shreds, and leave her on the wrong side of the gate. She wasn’t going to sleep with him. He wasn’t her type, and she was above that sort of thing. But letting him flirt was harmless.
She forced a smile. “What were you expecting?”
“Someone too young for me.”
“Hey, Freddie, this is the last toner,” said a young man as he came into the printer room. Unlike Mark, Freddie, and the woman at the front desk who were all dressed in casual professional wear, this man was dressed in smudged jeans and a plain t-shirt. Kaylee didn’t care what he looked like. Right now he was her savior.
“I already placed the order for the refills. I’ll call them today and make sure it’s shipped.”
“Thanks.”
“Thanks, Andy,” Freddie said. “He and Sam work back here.” He took a moment to show her all the equipment and where the supplies were stored. “Any questions?”
“Not right now.”
“Then let’s introduce you to your mentor, Julius. He prefers Jules. You’re going to help him with his current projects, and then he’ll supervise you as you tackle a few solo projects. He’s the one who will do the final quality checks on your work and make any corrections or changes before handing the product over to the clients. I also need to set you up with a password and username for the office computer network.” He stopped outside an office door. “Here we are.”
The door swung open to reveal a large man seated behind a desk. He had his feet up and his eyes closed. Kaylee was certain he was snoring softly. She stopped in the doorway and Freddie looked back at her. “Is there a problem?”
“Look,” she said softly, not wanting to wake her mentor until after she’d had her say. “I might just be a college student, but if you didn’t want me here you could have declined the internship.”
“What—?”
“This.” She gestured at Jules. “You don’t agree to a college intern work program and then saddle your student with the company slacker. I’m not here to cover for him. And you can’t just squirrel me away in a corner to collect dust. I came here to actually learn something. I already know how to sleep.”
“I’m not sleeping. I’m thinking with my eyes closed.”
Kaylee froze.
Jules Beauregard was only lying slightly when he said, “I’m not sleeping. I’m thinking with my eyes closed.” He wasn’t sleeping since he was talking, but he had been sleeping when the door to his office had opened. He didn’t sleep at work—he took great pride in his job—but the morning after the full moon was always rough on him, and since he was waiting on a confirmation email from a client he thought he’d sit back and relax for a minute. He hadn’t intended to fall asleep.
Luckily, being a werebear meant his senses were sharp, even when in human form. He heard the office door open and woke up. Keeping his eyes closed was just a ploy to play it cool. Now he was glad he had.
He opened his eyes and looked from Freddie to the girl in the doorway and back. “Who’s the girl?”
“Your intern.”
“We’ve been over this, Freddie.”
“All I remember is the part where you still want to get paid.”
Jules pulled his feet off the desk and stood. He noted that the girl’s eyes had gone even wider. He smiled at her. “Have a seat. My esteemed boss and I need to have a few words.” Out in the hall with the door closed behind them, Jules said, “No, Freddie. I’m not taking on an intern. This isn’t a good time.”
Freddie grinned. “Sure it is. With Jeremy down for the next month, we’ve all got more work. She’ll help you with the extra load.”
“Why not one of the others?”
“Because you’re the best in the office and she actually wants to learn something.”
“I don’t want to teach her! I don’t want to babysit the college kid.”
“She’s not exactly a kid,” Freddie said. Jules was glad he had the door closed as Freddie peered over his shoulder at the frosted glass window. He was equally glad the glass was nearly opaque.
“Then you teach her.”
Freddie patted Jules on the arm. “You’ve got this. Besides, with your recent breakdown I thought you’d appreciate some help.”
“I don’t consider this help,” Jules said through gritted teeth.
“Look, try it for the rest of the week. If it’s not working, I’ll move her. I think you’re her best bet at learning something valuable.” Freddie stuck his hands in his pockets and walked off. Jules watched him go.
He opened the office door and went in. The girl was standing by the desk. Part of him wanted to roll his eyes—he had asked her to sit, and if she was going to work with him he needed her to listen to instructions. Another part of him was pleased that she wasn’t a pushover. That was enough to balance his temper, which was directed at Freddie so she didn’t deserve to take the backlash.
“Hi,” he said. “I’m Jules.”
Kaylee had been pacing the office while the men stood outside the door arguing. It wasn’t a heavy door and didn’t really offer the intended privacy. She tried to ignore her feelings of embarrassment and disappointment at his out-of-hand rejection.
He doesn’t know me. It’s nothing personal. You need this job for your course, so make a good impression.
It didn’t help that Jules was intimidating or that she’d already made a fool of herself. Watching him unfold himself from behind the desk had made her breath catch in her throat. He was bigger than she’d first thought, not exactly graceful but with a smoothness to his movements that spoke to physical control and strength.
And she had assumed he was asleep at his desk, called him a slacker.
Smooth, real smooth, Kaylee. It’s no wonder he doesn’t want to work with you.
The door opened and Jules filled the doorway. “Hi. I’m Jules.”
She smiled and held out her hand as she walked to him. “I’m Kaylee.” He had a firm handshake. “Look. I’m sorry about a minute ago. It’s hard to be taken seriously sometimes. I wasn’t sure your boss would.”
“Freddie can be a bit of a hound, but when it comes to talent he’ll judge you on your work, not on your skin color, gender, or attractiveness.”
“That’s good to know,” she said.
“And the same goes for me,” he said. “It’s not a good time for me, but that’s not your fault. I’ll give you a fair chance.”
“Thanks. That means a lot to me.” She hoped the relief didn’t show too plainly on her face.
“Why don’t you show me your portfolio so I can get a feel for your style and where you’re at in your education, and then I’ll walk you through my current project list and see what you think of it. We’ll go from there, okay?”
It was Wednesday morning and Jules was getting ready to go to work. The midweek blues weren’t hitting him so hard this week. Might not need to head to the warehouse this week, he thought. Would be a nice change.
He got to the office just minutes before Kaylee. When she walked in, he said, “I won—you fetch the coffee.”
She rolled her eyes and dropped her bag on the chair. “This isn’t fair. I don’t have a car. I get here whenever the bus gets here. I can’t just choose to be five minutes early.”
He shrugged, but he was grinning. “Coffee first, complain later.”
She threw her scarf at him.
“Tell you what, I’ll over sleep my alarm one day just so you can win.”
“You’re so kind,” she said, and her laughter trailed after her as she wandered off to the staff room to fetch two mugs of coffee.
There was a tap on the doorframe and Freddie stuck his head in. “You’re not mistreating the intern, are you?”
“Oh, I’ve reduced her to a coffee-fetching serf,” Jules said. He took her scarf, one of those cotton, brightly-colored, infinity scarves, and hung it next to his jacket.
Freddie arched his eyebrows.
“What?”
“Nothing. I guess things are working out.”
“I’ll have the Peterson file in your inbox for review by lunch.”
“That’s a yes then.”
“Look out, hot coffee,” Kaylee said.
Freddie stepped back. “I’ll let you two get to it.” He shot Kaylee his womanizing smile. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“I think I’m fine, thanks,” she said, barely sparing him a glance.
Freddie winked at Jules and then closed the door.
“Is he always like that?”
“He’ll only chase you until you sleep with him, and then you’ll be hard pressed to get him to call you again.”
“Do you know this from experience?”
“I’ve seen it enough times.”
“Firsthand?”
He glanced up sharply and caught the playful twist of her lips. “No,” he growled. “Not firsthand.”
Her smile broadened. “So, what’s on the schedule for today?”
“Peterson file first. They want it next week, and we need to give the boys enough time to print and ship it.”
“Then let’s get to it.”
Jules was down the hall talking to Freddie. They both agreed that they’d get an answer on the Peterson file faster if she wasn’t there. Freddie’s flirting could get in the way of any job. While Jules was gone, Kaylee shut down the computers, making sure all the files were saved, and cleared away the paperwork scattered over the desk.
This first week had been really good, and it gave Kaylee hope for the rest of her internship here. Jules had an eye for elements of graphic design, and he wasn’t just making her sit back and watch him work. He explained each project—was it for digital or print media, what had the client asked for, what was the feel they were going for?—and then he’d let her work on it. Of course, he was working on the same project at the same time. At the end of the day, they spent an hour or so going over what they had done, comparing ideas. Sometimes he vetoed her work, but not until after he’d listened to her explain her choices and offered an explanation for why it wouldn’t suit the particular client or project. Most of the time they ended up combining elements of his work and hers to make something better than what either of them could have achieved working alone. It was more hands-on than she could have hoped for in a first week.
When Jules came back, he was grinning. “He was impressed. He liked your use of color. Sounds like your first report is going to be a glowing one.”
“That’s great. Hey, why don’t we grab dinner—to celebrate?” She handed him his coat.
“Since my fridge is empty, that sounds like an excellent idea. Got somewhere in mind?”
“There’s a Chinese place on my bus route home.”
Jules made a face. “Nah. Tell you what, I’ll drive, then you can go anywhere.”
“Anywhere?”
He shrugged into the coat. “Okay, Freddie doesn’t pay me hundreds of dollars an hour so it can’t be anywhere too fancy.”
“Oh, you don’t need to pay for me!”
One of his eyebrows rose. “Are you offering to pay for me?”
“Well, no, I wasn’t.”
“Then it can’t be anywhere too fancy. This job doesn’t make you rich unless you’re working for a really big corporation. Even then, you’re pretty low on the corporate ladder.”
She nodded.
He noted her suddenly subdued demeanor. “Hey, everything okay?”
“Sure.”
“Look, I’m not Freddie. I didn’t leap to the conclusion that this was a date.”
“I get that now.”
The corners of his mouth tugged up in a soft smile. “I’ve said something to make you uncomfortable.”
“No. I’ve said something to make myself the fool. Again.”
“What? No. Come on. Let’s get out of here before Freddie finds more work for us. We’ll pick a restaurant in the car.”
She nodded.
It was drizzling, so they made a mad dash to the vehicle. Jules hadn’t had the car long. It had been a gift from Brock. It was a new-used current model two-door Toyota that made him feel like a clown in a circus. “Big guys like me shouldn’t drive little cars,” he’d said, but Brock had insisted he take it as an apology for all the trouble his ex-girlfriend and The Human Order had brought down on all their heads nearly a year ago. He still saw the security video online sometimes, but thankfully the news clip didn’t show his transformation. He didn’t need to come out to that sort of media circus.
As they backed out, she said, “So you don’t like Chinese?”
“Not really, no.”
“Huh. I thought everyone loved Chinese.”
“I like rice,” he said.
“What about the pub down on Fourth?”
“Why would I go to a pub for dinner?”
“Because they have wings that are to die for. You do like chicken wings, right?” She had that mischievous smile again.
“Yes, I like chicken wings,” he said. He smiled. He felt like growling. Why do I find her both aggravating and entertaining?
He navigated through the busy streets until he reached Fourth. “Left here,” she said. “It’s down a few blocks, should be on your right.”
“Should be?”
She shrugged. “Oh, well, you know how these buildings are, they just up and move if you’re not paying enough attention to them.”
That made him chuckle.
There was a small parking lot behind the pub, which was in fact on his right, and it had already stopped raining. The place was small, and unlike the larger, more modern bars and clubs, this one was well lit. The bar was some kind of dark wood, highly polished and accented with brass. There were tables as well, a few café style, round with ornate chairs. The rest were booths along the walls with faux leather benches and lights hanging over them with green stained glass shades.
She led the way to the bar where the bartender was unpacking a box of coffee stir sticks and stashing them under the bar. “Is the kitchen open?” she asked with a smile.
“Sure is. What can I get you guys?”
“Chicken wings,” she said. “A large order. A Guinness, and …” She looked over her shoulder at him.
“Just a Coke,” he said. “I’m driving tonight.”
“Sure thing.” He pulled out two glasses and slid them full over to Jules. “That’s twenty.”
They both pulled out their wallets. Jules came up with a twenty, Kaylee only had a ten. He reached over, plucked the ten from her fingers, and handed the twenty over the bar. She laughed.
“Grab a table. I’ll bring the wings right out.”
She grabbed the glasses while he tucked the change away, and he followed her to a booth near the window.
“Do you come here often?”
“Not often, but often enough. I like it. I can watch the world go by, the wings are good, and the service is friendly.”
“Not to mention attractive?” he said.
She glanced back at the bar. The bartender, a regular, was one of those wiry guys with the half-shaved, half-long haircuts and black-framed glasses. She shrugged. “If you say so. I’m not really into little guys, but to each their own.”
“I’m not into guys at all!”
Her eyebrows went up and she said, “Mm-hm,” in that ‘I don’t believe you’ way.
“I was just teasing you.”
“Oh, well then, you’ll have to try a lot harder than that.”
“Oh look, food!” He hoped the bartender wouldn’t notice the way he was blushing and avoiding eye contact.
Kaylee just smiled a deceptively sweet smile and said, “Thanks.” She grabbed a wing, devoured it, and tossed the bones onto the second plate. As she wiped her fingers on a napkin, she said, “Aren’t you going to have some.”
“You seem so sweet,” he said. “But you’re sharp, aren’t you?”
“Of course. Eat up. These are really too good, and I’ll eat them all if you don’t hurry up.”
“Fine.”
“So, how did you end up in the graphic design field?”
“A friend of mine had just finished an economics degree and another a design and marketing diploma. The diploma took less time and the work looked like more fun. They work together, sort of, so they got me through the intern portion of the diploma, and here I am.”
“Did you always want to do this?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t really have plans for my future. Surviving was all I cared about growing up. They kept me straight and told me I needed an education. I didn’t want to disappoint them. Turns out, I actually have a talent for this.”
“I’ve noticed. How long have you been with Print Shop Pros?”
“A few years. I could have gone to work with my friends, but I felt like I needed to make it on my own for a while without handouts. I needed to prove I could do the job, that it wasn’t an empty diploma to justify a paycheck I hadn’t earned.”
“Would your friend pay better?”
“Yes.”
Kaylee knew a thing or two about proving herself. “Well, I think you made the right choice. It must have been hard, though, turning down the money.”
“Yeah, the money would have been nice. I can barely afford my crappy apartment and the food in my fridge, but it’s all mine—and it’s more than my dad thought I’d ever have.”
“Your dad was a bit of a hard ass?”
“My dad could never be more than ‘a bit’ of anything for all the time he actually spent in my life.”
“What kept him away? Drugs? Prison?”
“His wife didn’t approve of me and my mom.”
“Ah.” She noted the way his gaze stayed locked on the chicken wings while he twisted the glass back and forth on the coaster. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push. My dad preferred drugs to kids. He only shows up when he’s sober and broke.”
“That’s rough. My mom had a few boyfriends like that. She didn’t want them getting me hooked, so they didn’t last long around our place. That didn’t stop them from coming around and raising hell for weeks afterwards though.”
“Still, to have an affair, have a kid, and not have the guts to spend a little time with him? That’s pretty low.”
“Yeah. I guess. I mean, he did have to live with her, so I guess it was important to him not to make her too angry. I did see him at least once a month. And when I saw him he asked all the ‘good dad’ questions. He didn’t like my friends though.”
“Where is he now?”
“Wisconsin. He took a job transfer.” The way he said it was just the way Remy always said it, like the job transfer had just come up and Gabriele had taken it, not like Remy had insisted Gabriele leave, so he’d asked for a transfer to another state, another clan. No, better to forget the feud that had nearly torn the clan apart and best not to bring a human into clan business.
“Does he keep in touch?”
“No. And I don’t keep in touch with him.”
“I wish my dad would leave,” she said. “Or that they’d put him in jail. When he does show up, high on something or drunk, he’s got a mean streak. It scares the hell out of my siblings. I know I used to hide in the closet when the shouting started.”
“At least you’re almost done with school. Soon you too will be able to afford a crappy apartment and a mostly empty fridge. It’s lean living, but hey, you’ll be free.”
“And my siblings?”
He sighed. “I never had any.”
“Yeah, at least you aren’t pretending to understand.”
“God, how did this get so depressing?”
She laughed, but the sound was strained. “I don’t know.”
“Can I refill your glasses?” They both looked up to see a waitress had appeared. She was dressed similar to Kaylee but with a black apron around her waist.
“I could use another Coke,” Jules said.
Kaylee was impressed. The waitress was a curvy blonde who really needed to do up another button if she didn’t want men staring down the front of her blouse. The affect seemed lost on Jules, however, as he looked her in the eye when he spoke.
“Kaylee, can I get you another beer?” He was looking at her now.
“I can get it.”
“I have your ten, remember.”
“That’s not all the money I have.” Her chin jutted up in automatic defiance.
“Another Guinness then,” Jules said, turning back to the waitress.
“Anything else?” she said. She licked glossy pink lips, her gaze intent upon Jules.
“No, we’re good here. Thanks.” When he turned back to Kaylee she was rolling her eyes.
He gave her a half-smile in reply and said, “Not my type.”
“So, you don’t like the bartender and you don’t like the waitress. I’m beginning to wonder if you have a type.”
“I don’t date much. Maybe I know what I don’t like but not what I will like.”
“But you’ll know it when you see it? Is that it?”
It only took a heartbeat for him to take in her face again. Was she wearing more makeup than the waitress or less? The waitress had been all gloss and glitter and color, while Kaylee was done up with such subtle care that it was hard to tell where the makeup ended and she began. She was dark and elegant and fun and smart. He smiled. “I hope so.”
They polished off the wings and chatted about work and school until their second glasses were empty. Before the waitress could come back to flirt again, Jules slid away from the table. “Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.”
“You don’t have to do that,” she said, following him out. “I only had two beers, and it’s not hard to bus home from here.” She even pointed towards the bus stop down the block.
“Kaylee, I’m offering. Get in the car and stop arguing.”
Her eyes got wider. “Demanding, aren’t we?” she snapped.
“Kaylee, you don’t have to prove anything with me. I know you can get home on your own. I’m trying to be nice. That’s all.”
She nodded. “Sorry. Hard habit to break.”
“I know. I know we’ve only worked together a week, but you can trust me. I’ve got your back.” He patted her arm. “It’s hard to stop being defensive, but it’s tiring too.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know.”
“Sorry. You probably don’t want a pep talk from me.”
“You’re right, that’s not what I want from you.”
“Oh?”
She stepped in close to him and popped up on tippy toes. It was a good thing he’d been leaning in already in an attempt to look engaged and comforting. If he’d been standing up straight, she’d never have reached. As it was, she still had to tug his collar before her lips met his. She stepped back just as quickly and smiled, suddenly shy.
“Okay, two beers is definitely enough. I’ll take that lift home.”
“Sure.” Jules got in the car still smiling. They didn’t look at each other. Kaylee turned the radio on and they let the music and the DJs fill the empty space where conversation had been earlier. She only spoke to give him directions to her house.
He pulled up in front of a little rundown house on a rundown block in a rundown part of town. He said nothing at all about the state of any of the buildings and just walked her to the door. She paused on the step and smiled at him. He reached out and touched her cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.
“I’ll oversleep the alarm,” he said.
She laughed.
“Thanks for the wings.”
She nodded and slipped inside.
As he walked back to the car, he found he was still smiling. I don’t think I’ll need to go to the warehouse this week at all.
When Kaylee got to work the next day, Freddie was waiting for her in the lobby with a big smile on his face. “Come into my office,” he said. “I want to discuss your report.”
“I’ll be there in just a moment,” she said. “Let me just hang up my purse and sweater.”
He nodded.
She was all ready to leave Jules a note telling him to fetch her coffee, but his jacket was already hanging in the office when she breezed in. Her mood soured slightly. So much for oversleeping the alarm, she thought. She went back to Freddie’s office.
He closed the door behind her and waved to the second chair. “Sit. I just sent this off to your teacher, and I wanted to show it to you as well, just so you know where you stand.”
“That’s great, thanks.”
He put the papers on the desk and then leaned over her, pointing to one of the criteria. “Now, here you did really great. From the work samples Jules showed me, I’d say this is your strongest suit. Some of these you got lower marks on because I haven’t seen good examples of them yet, but I did note that on the report.”
She started to look up but realized just how close he was and looked down at the paper again. “Okay, everything looks good here. Jules and I are starting a new project today, so I need to get back to his office. I don’t want to keep him waiting—it makes me look bad.”
“Nothing could make you look bad,” he said.
She realized that leaning over her gave him a view down the front of her shirt and she shifted away from him. “We’ll talk later, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
She could feel his eyes on her as she walked out of the office. As soon as the door was closed she hurried away, fearful he’d call her back for some other pointless ‘one more thing’ just so he could offer a creepy compliment or sneak a peek down her shirt again.
When she reached the office, Jules was waiting for her with two mugs of coffee. “You beat me here,” she said.
“Only because I couldn’t sleep and had this sudden brainstorm and decided to come in early. But I got you a coffee because I sort of cheated.”
“Having a car is cheating,” she muttered, but she took the offered mug and took a tentative sip. “Pretty good. How did you know what I like in it?”
“I think you mentioned it once when you started working here. I have a good memory for things like that.” It was turning out that he had a good memory, aided by his sharpened senses, of a good many things—like the fact that she alternated between two different body sprays, a fruity one and a flowery one, and that her shampoo smelled of cherry blossoms. He knew the exact shade of brown in her eyes and had looked up the number for that color on three different graphic design programs.
She was smiling at him. “Thanks for this. What are we working on today?”
The next week flew by. Work was a joy, which was a surprise for both of them. Kaylee had been warned that graphic design was a cutthroat business, that her coworkers were likely to steal clients and projects and undermine her work, all while smiling politely and chatting around the lunchroom table. Jules seemed different. He was being honest with her, giving her a fair chance, and not taking credit for her ideas.
Jules had been working for Print Shop Pros long enough for the day-to-day work blues to settle in. He enjoyed his job, in theory, but in practice the drudgery of client consultations and office niceties wore on him. Now he was actually looking forward to spending the day at work—with Kaylee. That was the big difference. Kaylee was refreshing, she was smart and funny, and she wasn’t afraid of showing anyone how smart she was. He recognized her intense drive, and he had no choice but to help her succeed. Anything else would have been a betrayal of his entire past, everything he had worked so hard for, and all the people who had helped him along the way.
Neither of them mentioned the kiss in the pub parking lot, but sometimes he felt her eyes on him as he worked. Occasionally their eyes would meet in the quiet periods of intense work, and she would smile before looking away. Something about that smile and the way she seemed to look at him through her eyelashes made his pulse speed up a little.
They went out for lunch or dinner a couple of times, or ate lunch together in the office, as inspiration swept them along. Often the evenings would find them texting or emailing ideas back and forth. Friendly ribbing and light flirting accompanied the after-hours work.
It was Wednesday and they were halfway through the design on a company webpage that would have been going smoothly if the client hadn’t been sending them new “ideas” and forgotten requests every day. Still, they were making progress and the home page, barring any last-minute additions, appeared to be complete.
“Want to catch a bite to eat?” Kaylee asked as they were shutting down.
“My wallet’s looking a little lean,” Jules said honestly. “But I have a full fridge right now. My mom taught me a few classic Cajun recipes.”
“I don’t know.” He could hear the unease in her voice.
At that moment, Freddie tapped on the doorframe and stepped inside. The office wasn’t large and two people, especially one the size of Jules, made it feel crowded. He’d gotten used to Kaylee and they didn’t step on each other, but adding a third person to that mix when no one was sitting down made Jules feel like a sardine in a can. And he could see the discomfort plainly on Kaylee’s face. Her hook and chair were closer to the door than his, which meant she was now stuck between them. There was no way for Jules to move around her that wouldn’t look forced or aggressive. His bear was always aware of those unspoken cues of dominance and aggression.
“Hey, Kaylee. I’m getting ready to send off your second report to your instructor. I see you and Jules are done here for the day. Did you have a moment to come to my office? I know you bus, so I can give you a lift home afterwards.” He was smiling, and the whole thing should have sounded professional and friendly.
Kaylee didn’t think it was entirely professional. She did a mental check of her wardrobe and felt thankful that she’d worn jeans and a top that wouldn’t make it easy for him to get a peek at her breasts. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m sure you’re grading me fairly.” She offered him a smile, and Jules could see the strain around the corners of her mouth.
He shrugged into his coat and adjusted the collar. “Well, I’m out of here,” he said.
“Excuse me,” Kaylee said to Freddie. “If he’s leaving I’d better go too.”
“You don’t have to keep the same schedule as your mentor,” Freddie said. “That’s why I gave you a key.”
“I do if I’m going to get dinner tonight,” she said. She caught Jules’ arm as he went past her. “You mentioned something about Cajun?”
“A little late in the day to start on the gumbo, but I make a mean Cajun chicken.”
Freddie stepped out into the hallway to give them space.
“I like chicken,” she said. “Is it going to be hotter than the wings down at the pub?”
He chuckled. “Kaylee, if that’s your idea of hot you’re in trouble.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I can take a little heat.” They left Freddie behind them and headed out to the parking lot.
Jules opened the car door for her and said, “So, should I drive you home?”
She paused in the space between him, the car, and the open door. She was now in a space even smaller than the office, but she no longer felt trapped. “What about chicken?”
“I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted chicken or if I was just helping you ditch Freddie.”
“You’ve intrigued me with this spicy chicken. I really do like things hot.”
A broad smile spread across his face. “Then hop in and I’ll cook you dinner tonight.”
His apartment building was in another rundown part of New Orleans not far from the office. The narrow street and even narrower alleys were proof this area of town had been built long before the open-concept city planning of wide streets, wide sidewalks, and urban landscaping had become a thing.
“We got some building updates as part of the Katrina rebuild,” he explained as they walked through the lobby to the elevators. “But aside from fixing a few leaks and a broken washer, we haven’t seen maintenance in ten years.”
“At least you have a maintenance man,” she said.
“True.” Why he felt like making apologies for his life with her he didn’t know. He’d seen her neighborhood. But, he supposed, old habits didn’t like to die, and he didn’t often have people over.
His apartment was small but clean. There was a couch in the living room opposite a modest entertainment stand and television, but there wasn’t really space for any more furniture in that room. The kitchen set was secondhand, but at least his four chairs matched each other. He took her jacket and hung it in the closet for her. “Can I get you a drink?”
“Sure, that would be nice.”
He peered into the fridge, noting that he had finished the milk with breakfast and had not picked up more on his way home from work as he’d intended. “Um, water or beer? It’s not Guinness, I’m afraid.”
“I’ll start with a water—save the beer for supper.”
He got her a glass and then started pulling out ingredients for dinner.
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Here.” He handed her a head of lettuce, a tomato, and a knife. “I’ll grab you a bowl and you can make the salad.”
“Sure.”
She worked quietly at the table watching Jules move around the tiny kitchen. He completely filled the space, but watching him reach for utensils and ingredients, opening and closing doors and drawers, he belonged there. He knew the space and it knew him; it was like watching a dancer.
He’d think that was silly, she thought. If we were to move in together, we’d need a bigger kitchen.
Now, where had that thought come from? We’re friends, coworkers, sharing a midweek dinner. He’s never made a move on you, hasn’t even mentioned that kiss. Why did I have to kiss him? Thank god, he didn’t get weirded out and transfer me to another designer for my internship.
The smell of Cajun spices soon filled the kitchen, and it reminded Jules of his mother, Simone. She loved cooking, even if she rarely had the time to indulge in the pleasure. Being a single mother, even with the child support, she had worked two jobs. Of course, in those early years when his father had refused to pay, things had been even tighter and they ate a lot of macaroni and cheese. It wasn’t until Jules first shifted into a round-faced juvenile bear that the clan had stepped in and forced Gabriele to pay the child support. He found out later that Brock’s father and Remy’s father had purchased many of his Christmas gifts, his own personal Santas.
But they survived, and Simone now had a nice apartment and a job as a typist at one of the small businesses owned by the Tandell family corporation.
“I can’t believe your mom taught you to cook,” Kaylee said.
Jules glanced over and smiled. “I think if the world had been a little kinder to her, she would have been a chef,” he said. “She loves being in the kitchen.”
“My mom rarely has time to cook, and her mom didn’t really teach her many recipes.”
“My mom didn’t cook much when I was little,” Jules said.
“And it was just the two of you, right?”
He nodded.
“Yeah, I have two siblings. It’s always crazy at my house.”
“There was a time when I desperately wanted siblings.”
“You really don’t.”
“Probably not. But I was alone a lot as a kid because my mom worked.”
“If you had siblings you would have been cooking for them and putting them to bed while your mom worked.”
“I guess that’s what life was like for you?”
“Yeah. I mean, my siblings are quite a bit younger than me because my dad did a stint in prison when I was little—drug bust, my mom says. When he got out he said he was clean and staying that way. That didn’t last long at all.”
“We are not talking depressing childhood shit again today,” Jules said. “Not when there’s good food to eat and better things to talk about.”
“You’re right.” She got up and wandered into his living room. “You don’t have a lot of movies on your shelf.”
“I don’t watch a lot of movies, actually, and I can watch most of them on demand.”
“That’s true. I guess DVDs are going to become obsolete. Wow, these are really random.” She ran her finger over the cases. “A couple documentaries, some action flicks, an action comedy. Oh, this one is a classic sci-fi, good choice.”
“Sorry, no romantic comedies,” he said.
“I don’t care. I never watch them anyways.” She held up the science fiction title. “I think this is more honest about the way things are than any romantic comedy.”
“You don’t think romance is funny?”
“I don’t think romance is as common, innocent, or fun as they make it out to be.”
“I just think they’re hokey,” he said. “So, you don’t like chick flicks and you do like science fiction.”
“And epic fantasy.” She shrugged. “I’m not really the typical girl, I guess.”
“Actually, sixty percent of comic book movie fans are now female. Some women probably like both, but you’re not alone.”
“That’s always a good feeling. So, what about music? Looks like you’re a strictly digital download listener, so I can’t snoop through your collection.”
“I’d let you snoop through the music library on my computer if you promised not to go looking for the porn.”
Something in his voice told her it was a joke, and she actually laughed. “That’s okay, just tell me what you like.”
“I grew up listening to R&B, Motown, blues, that sort of thing. A little bit of traditional Creole music too, but except for some local groups it was hard to find. I mostly download songs I like because I like them. I’m not one to download entire albums because I liked one song by the artist, so my collection is really odd.”
“Huh. Well, you didn’t strike me as a pop fan and I couldn’t see you listening to country, so I guess that makes sense. Personally, I like upbeat stuff—pop, rock, club dance, alternative, a little techno. I don’t like the screamy stuff though.”
“Do you dance?”
“Only when I’m at the club and only when no one I know can see me.”
“Oh, come on. I bet you’re a great dancer.”
“I’ve never seen myself so I don’t know, but I’m self-conscious about it.” She shrugged. “If you don’t watch a lot of movies, do you watch sports?”
“Oh god, no.”
“Not a sports fan, eh?”
“Not at all.”
“Me neither.”
“This chicken is ready,” he said. He came out of the kitchen with two plates. Besides the chicken, he’d also made noodles tossed with vegetables and sauce.
“Oh wow, that is a lot fancier than I was expecting.”
“The veggies were frozen and the sauce is from a package,” he said. “If that makes you feel better.”
“It does, yes.”
“I usually eat in the living room, but the table is clear so …”
“Living room is fine by me.”
“Grab the plates and I’ll get the wine.”
As she leaned in to grab the plates she kissed him on the cheek. “Thanks for this. It looks and smells amazing.”
He blushed and retreated to the kitchen. She set the plates on the end table and reached for the remote. “You weren’t watching a porn station last, were you? Because I’m turning the TV on.”
“It’s safe,” he called back.
She turned on the TV but was met with a blank screen. Jules came in with two glasses of wine. He set these on the table with the plates and gently took the controller from her hands.
“I don’t watch much TV either. I’ll get Netflix up and running and you can pick something for us to watch.”
“Here I am teasing you,” she said taking the remote back, “and you’re taking it in stride, so you’ve got me curious. Do you watch a lot of porn?”
“Nope. But you can keep teasing me about it. I don’t mind.”
“Now I’m curious, what do you do with your free time?”
“Oh, I read or I play around on the computer. I’ve been testing out some video editing software. If I can get a handle on it, it might open up a new service at the shop. Sometimes I get together with friends.”
“And yet whenever I ask you out for drinks you have no plans.”
“I didn’t say how often that sometimes was.”
“Fair enough. How’s this one?”
“Sure, I haven’t seen it yet.” They got set up on the couch enjoying their dinner and the movie in relative silence, talking only to comment on an actor or a scene.
Partway through the movie, Jules got up, taking the empty plates to the kitchen and coming back with the wine bottle.
They were both laughing as the movie ended. “Thanks,” he said. “That was a really good movie. I don’t think I would have picked it out on my own.”
“I know, it’s one of my favorites. I laugh so hard every time I watch it.”
“We should do this more often,” he said.
“I would like that.” She leaned over, setting her glass on the low table, and kissed his cheek. When he turned to smile at her, she kissed him on the lips, her fingers brushing his jaw and chin.
He kissed her back, but at the same time it felt like he was holding back, keeping himself withdrawn from her. She pulled away and looked at her lap. “I’m sorry. I thought …”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure you want me to kiss you. I thought maybe you did, but maybe… I mean we do work together and …”
“Kaylee, I’m not used to this, I’m sorry. I don’t trust easily, but I like you. I think I could trust you.”
“You can, Jules, with anything.” She was staring at him, her brown eyes wide and honest.
He smiled softly and touched her cheek. “Kaylee.” His voice was a husky whisper.
They leaned together and their lips met in a gentle kiss. Soon his fingers slid over her neck and cupped the back of her head. Her hair was smooth and soft and thick around his fingers. He held her close, kissing her with more passion now. She scooted closer to him, her hand resting on his leg creating a warm spot.
She scooted closer still, her one leg propped up against his, her hand caressing his cheek and trailing over his neck and shoulder. She moved closer again until she was half sitting on his lap. He wrapped his hands around her and pulled her all the way onto his lap, still kissing her.
Their hearts were pounding hard and they were breathing heavy. Their hands began to wander as they kissed each other’s lips and faces and necks.
Her body was warm under his hands. Even through her clothes he could feel the heat of her.
Her cellphone rang, some light tinkling jingle. There was a pause and then the same tinkling music again. She pulled away from him, reluctant and blushing, the rosy color faint against her dark skin. “That’s my mom’s ringtone. I have to answer that.” She slid from the couch and moved across the room with quick, light steps.
Jules put his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. He rubbed his face, letting a deep breath out in a whoosh. He adjusted his erection and focused on calming himself down. It was the day after the new moon, so the bear was at its most relaxed right now, and he didn’t have to worry too much about turning furry. But he did have to worry about taking the evening a lot further than he’d ever intended.
Kaylee scooped the phone out of her purse and answered the call one ring before the voice mail kicked in. She stepped around the corner toward the bathroom so she couldn’t see Jules. Her heart was still pounding and she sounded breathless as she said, “Hey Mom.”
“Kaylee, oh thank god, where are you?”
“I just had dinner with a friend. Is everything okay?”
“Fine, everything’s fine, I was just worried about you. It’s getting late.”
“Is it? We put a movie on and I lost track of the time, I’m sorry. I should have called right after work, but there was some stuff about my course work and it just slipped my mind.”
She’d caught her breath now, but her heart was still pounding and she felt too warm.
“I’m just glad you’re safe.”
“Yeah. The movie’s over, so I shouldn’t be out too much later.”
“You’re in college, Kaylee. You haven’t had a curfew for years. I just can’t help but worry. Don’t let me drag you away from your social life. Have a good time.”
“Yeah, Mom. Thanks.” She hung up and took a deep breath. When she looked over, she saw Jules was in the kitchen setting empty wine glasses on the counter. She wanted to go to him, to say something about what had happened—and about what had almost happened—but the idea of being in that little kitchen with him made it hard to breathe. There was no guarantee they wouldn’t end up back in each other’s arms.
He was coming toward her now, smiling. “Did you need to get home?”
“Jules, I’m sorry …”
He leaned down and kissed her, just one short, sweet kiss. He smiled at her.
“Don’t tell Freddie.”
“How is this any of his business?”
“I thought you two were friends.”
“Only sort of. If you don’t want him to know, that’s fine, but can I ask why?”
“He might tell my professor and they might choose to move me to a different graphic design firm for the remainder of my internship.”
“I would still have dinner with you if you had to work somewhere else.”
“I know. But I enjoy working with you. I’m learning a lot. I don’t want this to ruin that. And I don’t want that to get in the way of this.”
“Okay.” He kissed her one more time and then turned to grab their jackets.
When Jules returned home later, he was still smiling. Two weeks earlier, when Freddie had dumped a college kid on his office doorstep, he was sure it would spell disaster and headache. Instead, he felt better than he had in a long time. He turned on his computer. It was too late in the evening to start on the video editing, but he could check his emails before turning in. While the machine turned on he tossed his tie on the bed and hung his shirt in the closet.
He had a few unread emails. One was from Brock, who was trying to get a baby shower organized for his wife, Gia. She had about six weeks before her due date yet, but Brock wanted the shower out of the way in case the baby came early. It was a serious risk that the baby could be premature. It was just something that happened with shifter babies, something about the animal inside them needing less time before being born. Jules typed out a quick reply agreeing to attend and promising that he would help set up for the party.
The next few emails were spam and he deleted them unread.
There was one with the subject “This is you—don’t ignore.” It sounded strange but not exactly like the usual spam subject lines, so he clicked on it, curious.
The message itself was fairly brief, not at all like Brock’s rambling letter.
“Julius, you’re very fortunate that the entirety of this video was never released to the media. I have found the complete video very interesting, and I think many people would share my interest in it. I am wondering what it is worth to you to have this video stay hidden. Watch the video. Transfer one hundred dollars to the listed account. There is nothing in the account for you to steal, and if the money is not deposited by the time the banks close on Friday evening I will make the video public.”
Jules’ hands were shaking as he moved the cursor over the attachment icon. He didn’t want to see the video. He didn’t need to see the video to know exactly what it was. But he wasn’t paying anyone anything for a hoax. He had to be sure.
The video was in color, a zoomed out look at the security gates at the airport. He spotted the tall, broad shouldered man waiting in the lineup right away. The camera was positioned so the faces of everyone coming through the gate were completely visible. He reached the gate and started arguing with the guards over the pills he was carrying.
He watched the guards pour in from all corners of the screen with their pepper spray and their Tasers. His heart was thundering as he watched and remembered.
He’d seen the others in his clan shift many times, but he’d never seen himself shift. Shifting in front of a mirror was useless. The pain generally curled you inward, and you couldn’t stay still enough, focused on the mirror long enough, to see the transformation. You were more likely to smash the mirror. For the first time, he got to see his own change.
His face distorted, his head enlarged, his shoulders widened, his arms thickened, and his hands grew and changed into paws. The fur sprouted, following the changes in his body. His clothes were no match for the rapid expansion of his body and they ripped. His belt withstood a little more pressure and he bellowed in pain as the buckle dug into his stomach before it finally tore. He dropped to all fours as his front end became too heavy. The fur rippled down his body as his knees popped into place and his legs thickened into tree trunks.
He turned the video off. He didn’t need to see anymore. Didn’t he still dream of that day?
Tell Brock, tell Remy. They can help. Forward them this email, and let them work on the problem for a few days. If they haven’t figured it out by Friday morning, you can send the money then.
He had the cursor over the forward button and then hesitated. You can’t always run to someone else for help, Jules. You have to be able to stand on your own or you’ll never be a man. Strange that this thought sounded more like his father than his usual inner voice.
Being a clan means having backup. This is serious. This could affect us all.
Then step up and protect the clan. A hundred dollars isn’t much. Step up, Jules. Defend the clan as they have defended you. If you can’t do this on your own, how could you possibly be man enough for Kaylee.
Kaylee. He could trust her with stories about his father and mother, stories about the bullying and the struggle to make something of himself when everyone looked at him and saw poor and useless. She would understand those things. She would respect him for those things. But telling her about this? That he was a werebear—and not just any werebear but the wild werebear who had gotten loose in the airport? He wasn’t ready to tell her that yet, and he didn’t want her to see this video.
And the video would go viral without any help. Everyone was still busy guessing who the werebear in the video was. His name had never come into any of those conversations, partly due to luck and partly due to Brock’s diligence. Why Remy was clan leader and Brock wasn’t, Jules never really knew, but he was thankful the two of them had been there to keep him out of trouble.
And if you’re too much trouble they’ll send you away. They’ll cut you loose.
No. Not Brock. Not Remy. Especially not Remy. Remy had been the one to defend him, to protect him—all those years of being a scrawny kid, he wouldn’t turn on me now.
You can’t take that chance. Just pay the money.
“I’ll pay,” Jules thought. “That’ll buy Brock and Remy more time to sort this out. I’ll tell them, just not right away.”
He accessed his bank account and with a few clicks he had the money transferred. He sat for a long time just staring at the computer. He felt chilled. His palms were damp with sweat. His chest felt tight and it was hard to breathe.
All the peace that Kaylee had brought to his life the last two weeks was gone. It was the day after the new moon and his bear was stirring. He tried to take slow, deep breaths, but his lungs wouldn’t cooperate.
“Sleep,” he muttered. “Sleep and deal with it in the morning.”
He got his belt off and then dropped into bed. He thought he’d be lying awake all night, tossing and turning while worry drove sleep far away, but sleep overtook him almost as soon as he closed his eyes.
Kaylee woke with her alarm and was humming when she came out of the bathroom, toweling her hair dry. Her mom had coffee on the table. The younger two were getting ready for school.
“Did you have a nice evening?” her mom asked.
“Yes, I definitely did,” Kaylee said.
“You have a faraway look in your eyes,” her mom said, smiling. “Just who was this friend?”
“Just a friend,” she said.
“Mm-hmm. Well, don’t miss your bus.”
“Okay, Mom.”
When Jules woke, he felt disoriented. He was sprawled on his stomach on the bed, only half covered with blankets. He was still wearing yesterday’s pants. The buckle of his belt was cold against his ankle. He pushed himself up and rubbed his face. His mind was foggy.
A glance at the clock jolted him awake. He was late for work. There was no time for a shower, so he stuck his head under the sink and quickly rinsed the product from his hair. He threw on clean clothes, grabbed his jacket, and headed out.
Traffic didn’t want to cooperate, and Jules couldn’t gain any ground or make up any of the time he’d lost to the deep and dreamless sleep that had claimed him. Being trapped in that tiny car with other cars pressing in around him didn’t help at all.
“I’ll call Remy when I get to work,” he muttered.
Kaylee breezed into work with a wave for Mark as she passed through the lobby. She was feeling ten feet tall today, and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face. It was clichéd, but she felt like she was walking on air. Things were looking way, way up.
She had gotten good grades in this course, and her reports from Freddie had been glowing. Her mentor respected her and her opinion and gave her creative freedom but also balanced that with constructive criticism and instructional conversation. That her mentor had become her friend made work more enjoyable. And after last night, well, the possibilities were endless.
It wasn’t every day a young black woman from the slums succeeded in clawing her way out of poverty, but Kaylee’s gut instinct was screaming at her that she was finally on the right road.
The office she was sharing with Jules was empty. No Jules, no sweater—the computers weren’t even turned on. Her smile widened. Looks like I’m not fetching the coffee this morning.
She hung up her things and turned on the computers, taking a look at the big desk calendar while she waited.
There was a knock on the doorframe and she looked up. Not even Freddie could ruin her mood today. “Morning, boss,” she said.
“So, can Jules cook?”
“He sure can. It looks like he’s not here yet.”
“I haven’t seen him. He said you chose the color palette on that last project. You have a good eye for color. I’m betting that comes naturally to you. It can be taught, but after a while you can tell which designers learned it and which designers go with instinct.”
She shrugged. “I guess so. Some parts of the job come easy to me, others not so much.” Like dealing with pushy bosses in a polite yet assertive manner. I don’t want to get fired, but I don’t want to be alone in a room with him.
“Did you have time to look over that report?”
“I should check the emails before Jules gets here. We’re waiting on some feedback from a client. I’ll see the report when I check in with my professor in a few weeks. If I have any questions, I’ll let you know then.”
“You’re a real hard worker. I like that. Don’t let Jules work you too hard though, okay?”
“Sure thing.”
He tapped the doorframe once and left.
Jules muttered a string of choice four-letter words at the red light in front of him. It was too tight in this car. The bear didn’t like being caged like this. Being on the bus wouldn’t have been any better, not with the bodies pressing against him. At least here in this tiny car he could slam his hands on the steering wheel and swear without attracting attention.
He got through the last intersection, turned into the parking lot at the shop, and turned off the car. He pulled out his cellphone and called Remy. His voicemail kicked in and Jules said, “Remy, it was a rough night. I’m going to the warehouse after work.”
He dialed Jane next and got her voicemail as well. “Jane, I need to go to the warehouse tonight and I can’t get in touch with Remy. If I can’t reach him can you be there?”
He put the phone away and took a few deep breaths before getting out of the car. At that moment, the overcast sky decided it was not only going to start raining, it was going to skip drizzle and move straight to steady downpour.
He closed his eyes, his head dropping in defeat. “I should just call in sick, get back in the car, drive home, and go back to bed.”
The idea of getting back in the car and facing the wall of traffic a second time that morning drew a growl from between his lips.
“Okay, no driving. Guess we go inside then.” He sighed. “Kaylee’s going to find this hilarious.”
Kaylee looked up and put a hand over her mouth to stifle a laugh. “Oh, my. I guess it’s raining.”
“What gave it away?”
“You look pathetic.” A little laugh escaped her. She got up and rushed past him. When she came back she had two mugs of coffee and a dish towel from the staff room. She tossed him the towel. “Here. You’re starting to leave a puddle on the floor. It must really be coming down out there.”
“By the bucket. Thanks, Kaylee.”
“I didn’t think you’d be this late,” she said. “Is everything okay?”
“Just forgot to set my alarm last night. I was a little distracted.”
Inwardly, Kaylee preened. “Well, you owe me a coffee run.”
“I could have grabbed it. That’s the deal.”
“You look like you need to warm up and dry out. Don’t worry. So, the client got back to us about the website. The homepage passed inspection and no new additions. But the contact page just got more interesting.”
“Interesting is never good.”
He stood over her shoulder, toweling off his hair while she walked him through the list of requested changes and additions. He left his soggy shoes and socks by the door to dry and they settled into their comfortable work routine for the morning.
By lunch Jules had a crick in his neck, and he rose up to his full height, stretching with a loud groan. Kaylee giggled. He looked down at her.
“You sound like a bear waking up from a long winter nap. A very grumpy bear.”
“Just a very stiff bear,” he said, trying to sound relaxed. She doesn’t know. No one has seen the video. I paid the money. He didn’t release the video. She’s just making a joke. Smile and joke along with her.
“I think I could do with a walk or something too. I finished my coffee an hour ago and didn’t bother to get up and refill it. I was just on a roll.”
“Did you want to grab lunch?”
“Is it still raining? If it’s still raining, we could just order something from the sandwich place up the block. They deliver. Better the kid from the shop have to walk in the rain than me.”
“What happened to needing a walk?”
“I don’t need to come back from lunch looking like a drowned cat, thank you very much.”
He arched one eyebrow. “Is that what I looked like this morning?”
“Your face said ‘wet cat’ all right, but you’re too big to look like a cat.”
“More a bear?” he said wryly.
“Exactly. We can at least walk to the front and see if it’s raining before we decide what to do about lunch.”
“And risk an encounter with Freddie?”
“Or risk losing feeling in my legs.” She smiled. “Besides, it’s five past, he’s probably gone for lunch.”
“Probably?” Jules said with an exaggerated huff. “You want to risk the viability of our entire escape plan on a probably?”
“Yup.” She was grinning at him.
Freddie was gone for lunch and it had stopped raining. “Do we risk it?” Jules asked, staring at the clouds that sat low and heavy over the city. “It could start raining again at any moment.”
“It’s a short walk.”
“It was a short walk in from the parking lot,” he reminded her.
She glanced over at him. His shirt was dry and so was his hair, but his shoes, which he’d had to put back on to make the walk to the front, still looked wet and uncomfortable. “Okay, why don’t you just tell me what you want and I’ll run down there. I’ll even sneak back in the loading door.”
He looked down at his shoes. They still made squelchy noises every time he shifted his weight or took a step. “Sure, that sounds like a plan.”
“Of course, now you owe me a sandwich run and a coffee run,” she said with that familiar, playful smile.
“How about I just take you out to dinner,” he said. “Friday after work? Or does the pub only serve wings on Wednesdays?”
“No, Friday sounds good. What do you want?”
“Brown bread, cold cut, double the meat half the lettuce, mayo and mustard.”
“Wow, that’s simple. Okay, let me just grab my purse and I’ll be back in a jiffy.”
When she had gone, he sat back in his chair and kicked his shoes off. He pulled out his phone. There had been no reply from Remy or Jane over the morning, so he called Remy again and got the voice mail recording again.
Odd. I hope everything is okay. Remy always answers his phone.
“Remy, Jules again. Call me when you get this.”
He dropped the phone onto the desk and rubbed his hands over his face. He took a deep breath and let it out with a soft whoosh. He picked up the phone again and opened his email inbox. There was a new message sitting there from the same address as the video the night before.
The message was short.
“Payment received. I will be in contact again soon.”
“Yeah, right,” Jules muttered. “You’ll be in contact again just as soon as you’ve spent all my money. Bastard.”
You shouldn’t have paid him, said a voice in his head. You know he’ll go public sooner or later. It will never be enough money. As soon as you’re late with a payment or you can’t deliver on a favor, he’ll go public. Think about Kaylee. Think about how she’d react. She was making out with you! She’s going to be so pissed you didn’t tell her.
I can’t tell her. She’ll run. I need her to get used to me first. I need to tell her the right way. I will tell her, but I don’t want to mess it up.
So… you love her?
He couldn’t answer that question. It had been two weeks. Sure, they worked well together, sure she was a nice girl, but they’d known each other two weeks. He would have to remember to ask Gia how long she and Brock had known each other before they had moved from friends to being in love. Of course, he had to be ready for the long-winded version if he asked Gia. She was pregnant and emotional and seemed to love sappy romantic things more than usual.
Finally, he dialed Jane’s number. This time Jane picked up.
“Yeah?”
“Jane, I need to shift tonight. I—he… He’s getting restless. I can feel it.”
“Again? Jules, you need help.”
“I’m working on it, all right? It’s been two weeks this time, hasn’t it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. But the rest of us have to keep dropping our plans to cover for you.”
“I’m sorry, Jane.”
“Did you call Remy?”
“Of course I did, but he’s not answering his phone.”
“Ah, shit.”
“Jane, I really need you tonight.”
“I know. Okay. I’ll be there, usual time.”
“Usual time. Thanks Jane, you’re the best.”
“Don’t you ever forget it.” She hung up.
Kaylee’s walk to the sandwich shop had been brisk but enjoyable. She liked walking. It helped her clear her head and reenergized her. The sounds of the city, the cars, the people talking, planes overhead—it was all normal, all somehow invigorating. She was smiling as she entered the shop and ordered two sandwiches. Tuna salad on whole wheat with lettuce and cucumbers for her, roast beef on rye with horseradish sauce for him. She was in such a good mood that she added a cinnamon bun to the order.
I’ll slice it in half and toast it at work for afternoon break. Jules will like it.
She was a block away from the print shop, paperback in hand, when it started raining again. She muttered a curse at the sky and picked up her pace. She made it back to work just as the drizzle became a downpour.
Mark looked up as she scrambled inside, panting. “Should’ve taken an umbrella,” he said with a smile.
Kaylee grinned back. “I didn’t bring one this morning.”
“You could have borrowed mine,” he replied.
“Or mine.”
Kaylee looked up. Shit. I was going to come in the back. I was so anxious to get in from the rain that I forgot Freddie would be back. Her heart was still racing from the jog, but she stood up straight and smiled. “Hey Freddie.”
“Come into my office, Kaylee.”
Mark gave her a sympathetic smile as she walked past him. “I’m on my lunch break,” she said. “And Jules is waiting for his sandwich.”
“Is Jules taking advantage of you?”
“What?”
“No, nothing like that!” Freddie said, waving a hand. “Sorry. I just meant, is he treating you like a personal assistant? Is he making you fetch his coffee and his lunch?”
“No.”
He eyed the bag.
“It’s my lunch too. His shoes got soaked this morning and he didn’t want to go out, so I volunteered. It’s no big deal.”
“Are you sure?” He sidled up closer to her. “I feel responsible for you, Kaylee. I want to make sure you’re happy here.”
“It’s fine,” she said. “Can I go eat my lunch?”
“Of course. I’m sorry, of course. Go on.”
She was shaking her head as she came up to the office door. She had her hand on the door handle when she heard Jules say, “Jane, I really need you tonight.”
She froze.
“Usual time. Thanks Jane, you’re the best.”
Her heart, which had only just slowed to a normal rate, started hammering again. Tears stung her eyes. She retreated to the lunch room and busied herself with plates and coffee. She wrote her name on the paper bag and stuck the cinnamon bun in the fridge for later.
Could mean anything—you only heard him for a second. Could be anything. Could be anyone. Besides, last night was just a bit of fun. He never made you any promises.
She took a deep breath and went back to the office with the two plates. She set them on the desk and gathered up the empty coffee mugs.
“Thanks, Kaylee,” he said.
“Be right back.”
He watched her hurry out. Something in her voice had pricked his attention. The way she was moving, hurried, hunched in, it all said ‘insecure’ to him. I’ve never seen Kaylee like that, not even that first day when we insulted each other and made fools of ourselves.
“Oh, Jules,” she said as she came in with the coffee. “I got a phone call while I was at the diner. Something came up all of a sudden, so I won’t be able to do dinner on Friday. Sorry.”
She didn’t sound sorry. She sounded cold. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. No emergencies, just family stuff. It’s all good. I’ll just be busy all weekend.” She flashed him a quick smile.
“Did I miss anything?”
“No.” But I feel like I did.
“Okay, then I’m going to work on that brochure while I eat.”
“Sure, okay.” She turned to her computer and everything in her posture screamed ‘I’m not listening.’
He sighed and picked at his sandwich, no longer feeling very hungry.
It was around two when her cellphone rang. She patted her pocket and then reached into one of the drawers and fished it out. “Hey, Alice,” she said. She got up from the desk and walked out to the lunch room. Jules stared after her and then looked at the desk and the open drawer.
Her cellphone was in the drawer. Did she put it in there when she got back? No. She handed out food and coffee. I never saw her phone. I never heard the drawer open and that drawer squeaks. She didn’t have her phone with her at the diner. She lied. Why? Why did she want to cancel Friday? Why didn’t she just tell me she’d changed her mind?
Alice was a friend from college. She was looking for help on a project. Kaylee offered what advice she could over the phone and then said, “Why don’t you email me a low-res copy, and I’ll give it a look.” They weren’t allowed to work on each other’s assignments but their professor let them offer opinions without penalty.
“Thanks Kaylee, that would be a big help. Something isn’t quite right, but I just can’t put my finger on it. I think it’s the font, but I’m out of ideas.”
Kaylee buttered her cinnamon bun and popped it in the microwave as she talked. “I know the feeling. How’s the work placement going?”
“Good, I guess. I was excited when I got placed in a pretty big firm.”
“But?”
“But mostly I run copies. They’ve given me a few token projects, stuff I can’t really mess up for clients that don’t bring in a lot of business. And the guys here are totally creeping on me.”
“Oh, Alice, I’m sorry. And to think I was jealous when I heard your placement.”
“What about you? Didn’t you get a little print shop?”
“Yeah, it’s small, only three designers on staff, but I’m doing real work. My mentor actually respects my professional opinion.”
“And no creepers?”
“Well …”
Alice laughed. “Sometimes being a woman sucks.”
“Yeah. But it’s not all bad. My mentor isn’t a creeper at least.”
“Oh? Gay? Married?”
“No and no. Just a nice guy. We’ve actually started hanging out.”
“Kaylee!”
“No, nothing like that, I swear! Look, I have to get back to work. Send me that email. We’ll have to get together soon.”
“Yeah. Thanks again.”
Jules looked up when she came back in. “Cinnamon bun?”
“Yeah, they had some at the sandwich counter. I couldn’t resist.”
“I should have ordered one. That smells delicious.”
Kaylee thought about her plan to split it with him, but then she thought about the phone call, and the way he had played her the night before. She slid the plate closer to her keyboard and smiled. “And it’s going to taste delicious.” She tossed her cellphone back in the drawer and slid it shut with a familiar squeak that sealed his suspicions.
“More emergencies?” he said.
“No, just a classmate. We sometimes look over each other’s work when we’re stuck.”
He almost asked if this classmate was a guy, but it wasn’t his place. There’s nothing going on between us. It was one makeout session. And she said Alice when she answered the phone. “Good thing you have friends to help you out.”
“Yeah. It’s nice when you have someone in your life you can trust,” she said with a little too much bite in her voice. “I need to get back to this.”
Shit. She’s mad about something. Something to do with me. What did I do? I thought things were going so well! What scared her? Did she…? No. She didn’t have her phone with her, so she didn’t have the internet—and there’s no TV in the sandwich place. Besides, he has no reason to release the video. I paid! Shit when did this all get so messed up?
Jules put his socks and shoes back on. They were dry enough that they didn’t squelch, and they didn’t make his feet feel funny anymore. Kaylee was busy packing up. She’d hardly said two words since the phone call from her friend. Now she said, “So, any plans tonight?”
There was something in her voice that nagged at him, but he was too preoccupied to stop and pay closer attention. “Going to see a friend,” he said.
“I see. Well, have fun.”
He looked up in time to see her forced smile and her little wave. “Okay,” he said as she was disappearing. “Goodnight.”
She went up to the front to find it was still pouring rain. Freddie came out of his office and smiled at her. “Heading home for the day.”
“Yeah. Looks like I’ll be waiting for the bus in the rain.”