Wednesday
“I guess the situation is bad, then,” Brock said.
Remy glanced over at his friend and second. Brock was looking down at his phone, his face neutral, disinterested, but Remy could tell he wanted to have this conversation for a while now, probably since the email came in about the meeting a week earlier. The Council hadn’t given them much time to get their clans in order and make travel arrangements. He wondered how many chiefs had cancelled or changed important personal plans, like weddings or funerals, to clear their schedules on such short notice. The Council had never been big on considering the convenience of others. “I guess so.”
“When was the last time the Clan Chiefs called a meeting like this?”
“I was thirteen. It was in New York. My dad took me along with him. And they gave him a three weeks’ notice.”
“I remember that. I was jealous. We’d just started shifting, Jules didn’t shift the first time until you both got back, thank God.”
Remy nodded. “It was boring. You didn’t miss much.”
“But I missed going to New York.”
“You’ve been to New York a hundred times. You hate it.”
Brock chuckled softly. “Yes I do. But at thirteen it was just about the coolest place in the country.”
“All I saw was the inside of the hotel, and it wasn’t even a nice hotel. And we were stuck in this big room, all the kids together with nothing to do.”
“This sounds a lot better. A relaxing, scenic, resort in Montana, mountains, trees...”
“Snow.”
“It’s April, Remy? I don’t think they have snow in Montana in April.”
“They can. They usually do. And if it’s not snowing it’s raining. It’ll be awful.”
“And you’ll come home complaining that all you saw was the inside of the resort.”
“Except for the full moon. That’s why we’re going to a resort on the woods. They want to have some official ceremony, something about the high number of new Clan Chiefs in the last two or three years. So, we’ll be shifting. Outside. In the snow.”
“Your bear won’t mind. Was that the airport exit?” They were riding in the back of Brock’s car while the driver , James, navigated the traffic.
“Yeah, it was.” Which meant that the car ride was almost over. “All right, as my second it’s up to you to make sure that …”
“Remy, we’ve been over all this.”
“We’re going over it again.”
Brock put his phone away and said, “Yes, sir.”
“You’re in charge of the clan for the full moon. Jane will do set up as part of her punishment but you have to control them. The clan is in a good place now. If Jules was still fighting the anxiety I’d take him with me, and we’d have taken the train, but he’s good now. You shouldn’t have any problems. Try to keep moderate tabs on everyone. I don’t want to come home to any emergencies. You have all the phone numbers?”
“Yes. And the address, and the names of everyone on the Council. You’ve covered everything, Remy. We will be fine for the week. I promise. And if anything comes up I will call.”
“Thank you.”
The car stopped and James opened Remy’s door. “We’re here.”
Remy stepped out, then bent over so he could peer in the open door. “Thanks for the lift. I’ll see you in a week.”
“Try to have a little fun while you’re out there.”
“Not likely. Try not to burn the city to the ground while I’m gone.”
“As the Mayor, that’s already one of my top priorities. But I can’t promise I won’t let Gia redecorate your apartment.” He winked as he said it.
They shook hands, said their good-byes, and Remy accepted his bag from James. “See if you and Connie can keep him out of trouble,” he said, shaking James’ hand.
“To be honest, being mayor keeps him out of trouble fairly well. His wife on the other hand ...”
Remy laughed. “Your opinion is safe with me. See you in a week.”
He waited through security and then waited at his gate, and then got on the plane and waited some more. The flight itself wasn’t too long, and he’d gotten a very early start, and he was travelling northeast so he was gaining time as he travelled. When the plane landed, he waited for the all clear to depart and then found his way out of the secure area. He checked over the cab rates but the resort was rural and it would be a long, expensive ride by cab. Instead he rented a two-door sedan that wasn’t much fancier than the one he drove back home, which meant a lot of paperwork, had the car company print him a map to the resort, and hit the road on his own.
He’d been right, there was still snow on the ground. In the city it was mostly just grubby piles in shady corners and a lot of wet on the roads that made the car look like it had never been washed when in fact it had been clean half an hour ago.
Out on the open road, the snow lingered in ditches and under the sheltering arms of the trees. The weather was mild, but for someone used to warm and humid it was downright chilly. He fought with the radio, trying to find a station that was clear and had decent music but finally gave up and picked up a cheap blues CD at the next gas station.
It started to rain, a steady grey drizzle of cold, misty droplets, just as he pulled up to the resort. Cursing, he found a parking spot and jogged inside, his bag banging against his leg. Still, his hair was soaked, his coat was wet, his shoes were a soggy mess from a puddle he hadn’t seen, and he was feeling miserable.
He wiped his shoes off as best he could, happy now that he’d thought to pack a second pair, and looked around for the check-in desk. Before he could even step off the door mat, a cultured voice said, “Why, I didn’t know you’d be coming.”
Remy bristled at the tone, though he didn’t recognize the voice. When he turned, he recognized the man’s face.
“I’d heard your father had retired but I honestly thought Mr. Tandell would take control of the clan.”
Remy knew full well what Charles thought since he’d made his opinion quite clear to Brock when Remy’s father retired. Brock had freely shared that information with his Chief, and closest friend. Since there was no safe path through that conversation, Remy opted for a casual greeting instead. “Charles, it’s been a long time. How’s Boston treating you?”
“Quite well. I don’t plan to retire anytime soon.” A jab at Remy’s father who had been quite young by werebear standards when he’d retired to Florida.
“Too each their own,” Remy said, trying to be polite. Charles was one of the reasons he’d been dreading this meeting and he’d hoped to avoid the man altogether. Luck was obviously not with him today.
“You’re here early, the conference doesn’t start until Friday. Are you on the volunteer committee? I don’t recall seeing your name on any of the sheets.”
“No, I’m not volunteering.”
“Then why leave your clan so soon? Trouble at home?”
“No, nothing that hasn’t already been taken care of.”
Remy knew that Charles already knew why he’d chosen to fly on a Wednesday. Anyone who did any amount of travelling would know why. But of course, Charles wanted him to say it out loud and wouldn’t drop the subject until he did.
Remy sighed. “You know me, always looking to save a little money. If you’ll excuse me, I need to check in.”
“Of course.” His tone was polite but he was openly sneering. “I must be going anyway. I’m working on getting this conference set up. I will see you again, though.”
“Of course. I look forward to it.” Remy smiled until Charles turned his back and then his expression turned to a glare.
Like the Tandells, Charles came from old money, one of those old New England families with the big houses. Unlike the Tandells, Charles was an arrogant prick who thought his money made him better than people who worked to earn a living – people like Remy and his father. Charles equated money with both political power, which in the human world was usually true, and clan dominance, which wasn’t necessarily the case.
Remy gave his head a shake and crossed the lobby. Checking in was easy, especially since they were taking up ninety-five percent of the resort for the week. He was given a key card, a wi-fi password, and directions to his room.
The room was spacious, a double bed and a love seat taking up one wall while a desk and television took up the other. The carpet was dark and richly patterned while the walls were light and neutral with a print of a black and white photograph hung above the bed. The image was probably a local landmark but taken at an artistic angle with sharp contrast. It was modern and classic, adding depth to the room without drawing too much attention to itself. The room had a mini fridge, a kettle, a little instant coffee bar, and a closet – the only part of the room besides the bed he was likely to make much use of.
He shot off a text to Brock that said, “Arrived in Montana safely. Rented a car and found the resort. No problems. Ran into Charles Brown already. It’s raining and yes there’s snow. See you in a week,” and then went to have a hot shower. He hated travelling, hated the close quarters and stuffiness of the airplane, hated navigating in strange cities, hated the stress of it all, but at least the accommodations here were good, better than average. Still, there was nothing to do in the hotel room aside from staring at his phone or watching TV. He didn’t fancy going out in the rain, and he wasn’t in the mood to chance running into Charles again, which left him with very few options. Even though it would mean a second shower later, he decided to head down to the pool.
Charles will be too busy to go for a swim. Pompous ass. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a swimming pool unless it was ‘private’. I wish this rain would let up. I need to get out, need space. The grounds look nice but I’m not going to explore in this weather.
When he arrived at the pool, there was a family of five just bundling into towels and heading for the door, leaving Remy to swim laps in peace. In subsequent emails with the Council, he’d found out that they had rented up the entire resort, for privacy’s sake, so this family must have been getting one last swim in before checking out. Or they were part of the local clan.
He left his towel, t-shirt, and shoes at one of the chairs near the wall and jumped in. The water was kept at a pleasant temperature, maybe not as warm as he liked his shower, but not heart-stopping cold either. Remy grinned as he pushed away from the wall to begin his laps.
He was coming back the other way when a body hurtled out of the end of the water slide and crashed into him. They both went to the bottom and Remy came up coughing and spluttering.
“I’m sorry.”
A hand touched his shoulder and he spun around, as quickly as the drag from the water would allow. There was a young woman there, her brown hair plastered to her neck and the sides of her face, hurriedly pushed back so she could see.
“Are you okay?” Her eyes were wide with worry.
“I think I inhaled half the pool but yeah, I’m okay.”
“Why were you swimming so close to the slide?”
“I thought I was alone. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come down.”
“Oh.” She smiled. And then she giggled. “I am sorry.”
“Me too. Serves me right, I guess.”
“Can I make it up to you?”
“Make what up?”
“I did just try to drown you. Can I buy you a coffee at the café?”
“I was going to swim a little longer.”
She smiled. “Well, I’m going to lounge in the hot tub. Why don’t you come find me when you’re done and we’ll grab a coffee? Okay? My treat.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m really okay and it was just an accident.”
“That’s okay. I want to. I’m Tara by the way.”
“Remy.” Shaking hands seemed awkward given that they were both chest deep in the water.
“Pleased to meet you. Come find me when you’re done with your laps.”
“Uh, okay, I will.”
She smiled and nodded once, pleased with herself and his answer, and then swam towards the shallow end. He stayed there watching her. She climbed out up the ladder, water dripping off an athletic body, the bottoms of her blue two-piece clinging suggestively to her ass.
He looked away, gave his head a shake, and went back to his laps.
When he started to feel the muscle drag in his shoulders and legs, he stopped. He’d done fifty-seven round trips; each way was roughly twenty strokes. He’d counted diligently to keep his mind from wandering back to Tara’s backside.
Is she even still here? He swam to the nearest ladder and pulled himself out of the water. He glanced around and spotted the hot tub so he wandered in that direction, leaving a trail of wet footprints and water drops as he went. He spotted the top of her head, low to the water. She was slouched down with as much of her body below the surface as possible and her eyes closed. The jets were on high, turning the surface white with bubbles and filling this corner of the pool area with a steady whirring noise.
Remy padded up the steps and slid into the water opposite her. She smiled.
“Sneaking up on me?”
“Evidently not. This is hot.”
“Mmm. It’s wonderfully relaxing.” She hadn’t opened her eyes yet. “I could nap here, but then I’d probably drown. It’s so much nicer than the rain outside, and the rain back home.”
“It was warm when I left home,” he said, “But not this warm, thank God. Though it’ll probably get there in a few months.”
She opened her eyes and sat up a little. Her skin had been pale before but now her cheeks were rosy, almost flushed, from the heat. He noticed that her eyes were lighter than he first thought. When he realized he was staring, he quickly glanced away. He hadn’t come to the conference looking for love, or even a fling – he didn’t need the complication.
“So – uh – you mentioned coffee?”
“I did. I’m on the west side of the lobby, 4th floor.”
“East side, 5th floor,” he replied.
“Well then how about I meet you back at the café as soon as you’re dried off and dressed. Unless you want to do coffee in your swim trunks?”
I’d like a better look at you in your bathing suit, he thought. He was glad the water was hot because he was sure he was blushing. The bubbles were an added bonus since his swim trunks were too loose to hide his body’s reaction to the mental image of her wet bikini top clinging to her breasts. He cleared his throat. “No, getting changed is a good idea. I’ll go grab my towel and stuff.” He turned away. She followed him but he was careful to keep his eyes forward. When he did have to turn to face her, he found she was wrapped in a fluffy robe and was busy toweling her hair dry.
“I’ll see you at the café in a few,” he said.
“Mm-hm.”
He hurried out.
Tara watched him go. He’d rushed and barely toweled off so his shirt was clinging to his back almost as much as his wet trunks were clinging to his legs and ass. He was tall, broad shouldered, and bronze-skinned. She’d thought Latino at first but his features were wrong, and his accent was – interesting.
Not to mention the powerful shoulders and chest that had been sticking out above the surface of the hot tub. I’d like to run my hands over that chest, she thought, watching him walk away. And that ass. There’s a man who works out, or maybe … maybe he’s here for the conference. Dad always did want me to marry a werebear. I’d have been more open to the idea if we had werebears like him back home.
When he disappeared out the door, she gathered her things and followed, humming to herself. She’d been upset about being dragged to this conference. She wasn’t a Clan chief and she wasn’t even a secretary, as her Chief had claimed to the Council. But he always gets what he wants in the end and he wanted me here, so here I am. Maybe this time I can get a little of what I want, too.
The café was small but cozy with enough space between the dozen or so tables to keep it from feeling crowded. The décor was classy but rustic, a combination of raw wood and beautiful oil paintings of forests and mountains and wild animals. No tacky hunting trophies or cheesy lumber jack jokes to be seen.
Remy settled at a table for two and politely told the waiter he was waiting for someone. If you order before she arrives maybe you can pay upfront and then she can’t try to pay for your drink. The reasoning was sound and he really didn’t like people paying for him. He was about to wave the waiter back over when Tara walked in.
She hadn’t taken the time to dry her hair, that was the first thing he noticed. It was tussled like she’d rubbed it over a few times with the towel and left it. The rosy had left her cheeks so her hair sat dark and damp against her smooth, pale cheeks and neck. She was wearing one of those t-shirt dresses in a doeskin brown over black tights and had a little bag over one shoulder.
She was looking around the café and quickly spotted him, her face lighting up in a smile. “You didn’t order without me, did you?” she said as she bustled over and settled into the chair opposite him.
“No,” he said, choosing to omit the part about thinking that very thing.
“Good. So, what’ll you have?”
“I came from east of here so something with caffeine to get me through the day would be good.”
“Me too.” The waiter came over. “I’ll have a large vanilla frappe with a cinnamon bun please.”
“Sure thing, and you sir?”
“Oh, just a regular coffee.”
“Come on,” Tara said. “You don’t have to keep it simple just because I’m paying. I really don’t mind.” Her smile was radiant.
“Okay, fine, a large latte.”
“Anything to eat with that?”
“Uh – “
“Come on, I don’t want to be the only one eating.”
“The offer was for coffee,” he said. “You really don’t need to buy me food.”
“Order something,” she said, her eyes burning into him. She refused to look away. Her eyes were beautiful, and distracting.
“Okay, uh, I guess I’ll have a cinnamon bun, too.”
The waiter was trying to keep a straight face as he noted the extra pastry on the order pad. “Okay, I’ll have that out to you right away.”
“Sorry,” she said, grinning as the waiter walked away. “I don’t mean to be pushy.”
“No, it’s okay, you remind me of some friends back home. I seem to be surrounded by strong-willed women.”
Tara’s hopes drooped and she tried to keep her smile bright. “You got a pushy mother?”
“Not really, not any more than mothers should be. She’s sweet. And she lives in Florida in a retirement condo place. I hardly see her, except video chat.”
“Oh, well I’m sure your wife doesn’t think she’s being pushy.”
He laughed. “I’m not married,” he said. “Not even close.”
“So, no one waiting for you back home?”
“Just friends.”
“I suppose that means you’re here for the conference but you’re not publicly out so you don’t want to say ‘clan’ in front of a stranger?”
“Strong-willed and sharp too,” he said with a grin. “You look a little young to be a Chief.”
“No comment on my gender?”
“In general, I have a lot to say about your gender. But I know a few female Clan Chiefs so I wouldn’t rule anything out.”
“Huh.”
They both stopped talking for a moment as the waiter returned with their order.
“Just put that on room 417W,” she said with a smile. “All of it.”
“No problem, just let me know if you need anything else.”
“So, if you’re not a Chief, why are you here?” he said, picking up his cinnamon bun.
“I accompanied my Chief.”
Remy hid his disappointment behind the snack. While he hadn’t planned on anything romantic happening, he couldn’t deny his attraction to her and he’d assumed the offer for a coffee and the fishing for information on his marital status was a sign she was single but apparently, that was not the case. “I hope you won’t be bored during the conference.”
“No, I’ll be busy taking notes and such. Being a secretary is a tough job.”
“I’m sure being married to a pushy dominant male is no picnic either.”
She laughed. heartily “No, I’m definitely not married to my Chief.”
“Oh – well – uh … now I feel a little embarrassed.”
“Don’t be. Didn’t I make the same assumption about you? Or just about?”
“That’s true.” It didn’t alleviate the embarrassment.
“So, since we’ve established we’re both single, want to do something this evening?”
“What kind of something?”
“Oh, I was thinking wild kinky sex.”
He nearly spit his drink across the table.
She laughed again, even louder this time. “I’m sorry. You should see the look on your face.” Her laughter rolled on and on.
“Okay, okay.” He dabbed at the table with his napkin.
She gave him a sexy little pout. “Don’t you want me?”
He felt his cheeks heating up and she laughed again.
“I’ll stop. I’m sorry. I was actually thinking dinner. I’ll be stuck eating hotel food all week, practically, so why don’t we head into town and try something local?”
“Only on the condition that you don’t try to pay for me.”
“Hey, an accidental almost drowning will only get you so many freebies. You want dinner, you’d better be ready to get hit by a car or something.”
“No thanks, I’ll pass. I like my legs the way they are.”
Can’t say I blame you, she thought, smiling into her mug. She glanced over the brim at him, admiring the way his casual dress shirt clung to his arms and shoulders. Now that his hair was dry, she could see it had a little wave to it and it was just long enough to run fingers through. Her fingers if she had her way.
“Do you know a place? Because I’ve never been here before.”
“Me either.” Her hand shot up and a moment later the waiter appeared at their table. She smiled at him but it was a tight-lipped, sweetly professional smile and not the wide grin she’d been casting in Remy’s direction. “Besides the resort, is there anywhere you could recommend for dinner tonight?” she said.
“There’s a steak place on Main Street,” he said. “They’ve got local micro-brewery beers and peppercorn steak. Otherwise, there’s Chinese and a sandwich place.”
“I think we’ll try the steak,” she said. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Anything else?”
“Mm, could you toast up a whole-wheat bagel with some butter and bag that for me. I’ll take it to go.”
“No problem.”
“It’s stopped raining,” she said as they came out of the café into the lobby. “Want to go for a walk? They have a nice yard here with some paths. Shouldn’t be too bad for puddles.”
“I could use a bit of fresh air,” Remy said, but what he meant was, As long as I get to spend more time with you. They’d already lingered over coffee for over two hours, laughing and talking and flirting.
“Let’s go then.” Her phone rang and she sighed. “Hold on, that’s probably important.” She pulled the phone out of her bag and read the message on the screen. She typed something in return and dropped the phone back in her bag. “Sorry. I have to go. I’m needed, apparently.”
“Helping with the set-up?”
“I wasn’t supposed to be needed until tomorrow but I guess they need more hands. I’m sorry. I really would like to take that walk.”
“There’s always later. Here.” He fished his car rental receipt out of his pocket and glanced about the lobby for a pen.
She rolled her eyes and fished her phone out again. She unlocked the home screen and handed it to him. “That way I won’t lose it.”
“Thanks.” He smiled sheepishly and took the phone from her.
When he handed it back, she said, “You could always come with me. If they’re paging me, I’m sure they’d appreciate the help.”
He almost said yes but then thought of running into Charles again and having him sneering again, and this time in front of Tara, whom he actually got along with was not an ideal situation. “Maybe tomorrow. I should go check in with my clan back home and see when the other Chiefs I know are expected to arrive. Call me as soon as you’re done and we’ll go for that walk, or at least get dinner. I rented a car so we don’t have to walk into town.”
“It’s a deal.”
They were setting up the banquet room for the dinner Friday night. The stage had been put up by the resort staff and all the tables and chairs were out, complete with fabric covers and table cloths, but now they needed to arrange the seating charts, set up the reception table, and decorate the stage. Tara felt like she was back on prom committee, something she’d had no interest in but had volunteered for at her father’s insistence. Just like now.
She was busy checking off names on the attendance list while Mabel, the wife of one of the Clan Chiefs from Arkansas, read her the names on the seating chart. Mabel was a thin woman in her sixties with a hair style straight out of the fifties. Tara knew the older woman was friendly and meant well but anyone would think she was cold based on her thin-lipped smile and harsh makeup.
“Why do we even need a seating chart?” Tara wondered.
“Because that way anyone who comes as a pair doesn’t worry about being split up if they’re one of the last ones in the room. And it’s only for this one dinner. After this everyone will be free to dine at the café or the restaurant or order room service – whatever they want. A little ceremony is nice.”
“It’s a lot of work,” Tara replied. “We’re all adults. I’m sure we could figure it out on our own.”
“You’re young yet, you’ll come to enjoy tradition.”
Tara sighed and kept her focus on her work. She was bored. She was tired of blank smiles and nodding at everyone while they rattled off instructions and details she’d heard a dozen times before. There was a large bank of windows along one side of the hall and she stared longingly at the afternoon sunlight that was peeking through the thinning clouds. Everything looked fresh and green. I bet is smells wonderful out there.
“Did you get Daniel Jenkins?”
“Hmm? Sorry. Yes. I’ve got him.”
“Really, Tara, this is important. We don’t want to miss anyone so pay attention.”
“Sorry, Mabel.” She turned her back on the window and focused on the task at hand as best she could.
There was a text message waiting for him from Brock and an email from his supervisor at work. He sat down on the love seat in his room and looked over the files his supervisor had sent. He noted a few corrections, commented on a new color scheme, and requested that any further changes be directed to Jules in the Graphic Design department. “I’m out of town for a week,” he reminded his supervisor. “There are other people who can deal with this until I get back.”
The text message said, “All’s well on the home front. Bring be me back a snowball.” He just rolled his eyes and didn’t bother with a response.
He took the time to unpack his shirts and hang them in the closet, then he glanced at the clock. He didn’t watch a lot of television at home but there was really nothing else to do so he kicked off his shoes, stretched out on the bed, and turned the TV on.
His cellphone ringing woke him. He stretched and rolled out of the bed. He’d left his phone on the loveseat and it stopped ringing before he got to it. The missed call was from an unknown number and he stared at it, his still half-asleep brain confused. It started ringing again – same number.
He hit the green button and said, “Hello?”
“Hey, Remy, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?” Tara said.
“No.” He perked up right away at the sound of her voice. “I was just on the other end of the room from my phone. How’s the set-up going?”
“Oh, the Council is stressing to no end but I think it’ll be fine. I’m all done for the day if you still want to catch that walk and dinner?”
“Yes, please,” he said, shutting off the TV. “I’ll meet you down in the lobby.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll be waiting.”
She was wearing a brown trench that fell mid-thigh and was fiddling with her phone when he stepped off the elevators. She heard the ding and looked up, only smiling when she spotted him striding across the lobby. She hooked her arm around his when he got close enough and said, “Ready to go?”
“Absolutely.”
They went out the back doors into the garden. The path was interlocking paving stone and mostly free of puddles. There was snow hiding here and there beneath bushes, water dripping off the still-bare branches. The air was cool and damp but it smelled clean and sweet, something neither Remy or Tara was used to. They walked arm-in-arm, enjoying the breeze, the bird song, and easy peace of the afternoon.
They rounded a corner to find a clearing with a bench at either end. In the middle there was a square of patio stones in contrasting colors. “There should be a box or shelf nearby,” Tara said.
“Oh?”
“It’s a chess board. There should be pieces around somewhere.”
“Chess? It’s huge.”
“So are the pieces.” She was making her way around the edge of the clearing, following the line of bushes in a square. She stopped. “Here. Come help me. You do play, right?”
“I know how,” Remy said. “I don’t know the last time I actually played, though.” He joined her and peered into the wooden crate she’d found. Inside was a complete set of chess pieces, probably wooden, the pieces ranging between eighteen and twenty-four inches in height, half painted black, the other half painted white.”
“Do you want to play?”
He shrugged. “Why not? Beats watching TV.”
They pulled the pieces out and arranged them in their starting positions. Remy watched Tara out of the corner of his eye so he managed to get all the pieces in the correct places. Tara handed Remy a stick with a hook on one end. “The pieces have rings on the top. You use this to move them so you don’t have to walk on the board. Do you want white or black?”
“Why don’t you take white, then you can start. Just go easy on me, I’m out of practice.”
Her grin wasn’t very reassuring.
She won the first game with ease, even though she was trying her hardest to go easy and not take advantage of every opening he presented, which were many. Remy didn’t mind losing, this time, since he was just trying to figure out how all the pieces moved again and what he had to watch out for.
The second and third games she also won, but with each game he was gaining confidence and was letting her take fewer and fewer pieces.
“Okay,” she said with a laugh. “My fingers are starting to go numb out here.”
“How about that dinner then?”
“Sure. Let’s just get this cleaned up and we can go. You’re getting better, you know.”
“I was hoping so. Of course you’ll stop going easy on me the second I start winning.”
“You know it. These pieces have a good weight to them.”
“Guess it’s so they don’t topple too easily. Is that everything?”
She nodded.
He held out his hand so she took it and he smiled. “I wasn’t looking forward to having to fly out early, you know. I thought I’d be bored out of my mind, stuck in my room with nothing but the TV to entertain me. Now I’m glad I came early.”
She glanced up at him, offering him a shy smile. “Yeah, I’m having a lot more fun than I thought too.” They stepped into the pleasant warmth of the lobby. “Oh, I left my purse upstairs. I’ll be right back.”
“Sure, I’ll just hang out here.” He found one of the comfortable chairs and settled in. He pulled out his phone but there was no further word from home. He started up a game of solitaire.
“Remy, there you are. Are you settling in all right?”
Remy paused his game and set his phone on his leg before giving his full attention to Charles. “I’m only here for a week, not much settling to do.”
“Of course. I saw you when you came in, you were travelling light.”
“I don’t need much for a week.”
“No, you wouldn’t.” He sat in the neighboring chair. “Tell me, how are things going in New Orleans?”
“You can read the news as easily as I can, especially with the internet now.”
“I don’t care about the mundane. How’s your clan?”
“Growing.”
“I didn’t realize more bears had transferred there.”
“They didn’t. One married and has a child and one is preparing to propose.”
“Oh yes, Mr. Tandell, of course. I read about his wedding. Married a mundane, didn’t he?”
“You already know he did.”
“Don’t you have a female in your clan?”
Remy knew where this conversation was going. “Yes, I do.”
“Is she married?”
“No, she isn’t, not that it’s any of your business, or mine.”
“Why aren’t you insisting on your clan marrying inside your clan?”
Remy stood, tucking his phone in his pocket as he did so. “Why don’t you ask Laurent about the benefits of arranged marriages. If you’ll excuse me, I was waiting for a friend but I think I’ll wait outside. I’m still restless from the flight.”
“Yes, of course. Don’t let me keep you. I’ll see you around.”
“Of course.”
Once outside, he texted Tara and then paced up and down the entry sidewalk until she came out the doors. The whole business with Jane and Laurent and the boy, Etienne, had been messy in more ways than one. To find out that a Chief was arranging marriages, and arranging hunting accidents to keep unmarried females from leaving his clan, and using the local chapter of The Human Order to drive away werebears who opposed him, well, it was a blow to his confidence in his fellow Clan Chiefs.
Jane’s parents had been killed in that so-called hunting accident. She’d been drawn back into the mess when her high school sweetheart had shown up in New Orleans with a sob story. And in the end, Marnie had put a round of buckshot in the back of Laurent’s head at close range. Last he’d heard, Etienne was still in custody, preparing for trial on blackmail and fraud charges. He was allowed out on full moons to shift under Marnie’s supervision, and with an armed guard from the prison.
Werebears as prisoners of the human legal system was still relatively new but they seemed to be handling the challenge well in Quebec.
Finally Tara came out the doors, looking a little flustered. “Sorry about that,” she said. “I ran into my Clan Chief and had to talk a minute. Are you ready to go?”
“More than ready. I ran into a Chief I’d rather not spend extra time with. Mine’s the red one in the last row there.”
“Let’s go then. I’m starving.”
The town wasn’t overly large and was laid out in a simple, tourist friendly fashion with good signage. It didn’t take long for Remy to find Main Street or the steak house, though finding a parking spot was a little tricky. Evidently this was a popular location, even for the middle of the week.
When they walked in, they realized that most of the cars’ occupants were in the lounge watching the baseball game on the televisions. The restaurant side was relatively quiet and they were seated right away.
They removed their coats and Remy pulled out Tara’s chair for her while the waiter hovered nearby. When they were both seated, he approached the table. “Hi, my name is Jeff and I’ll be your server this evening. Our special today is the chicken dinner for ten-ninety-nine and that comes with either soup or salad. Our soup of the day is beef and barely. Can I get you something to drink to start?”
“Do you have a wine menu?” Tara asked.
“It’s just here,” Jeff said, pulling the laminated sheet from between the salt and pepper shakers and handing it to her.
“I’ll have a beer,” Remy said. “Something local, I prefer dark ales. Surprise me with something.”
“Sure thing.”
“This Shiraz looks nice,” Tara said. “Just a glass please.”
“And did you want any appetizers or did you want a minute with the menu?”
“Give us a minute,” Remy said. “We’ll have an answer about appetizers by the time you get back with the drinks.”
Jeff nodded and headed for the back.
Tara folded her arms on the edge of the table and leaned in. “So, what’s all this about appetizers?”
Her posture afforded him a pretty clear look down the front of her shirt and he could just make out an edging of dark colored lace. His gaze didn’t linger overlong and he focused on her stunning eyes. “I could go for something but I didn’t want to order for you or put you on the spot.”
“I’d love some onion rings.”
“See and I’m more into the nachos.”
“We could get both and share. And then with two appetizers we can split the bill, right?”
“Right.”
When Jeff returned with the drinks they ordered their appetizers.
“This weather is awful,” Remy said. “It was already at least ten degrees warmer back home.”
“Must be nice. Still pretty miserable out east when I got on the plane.”
“Do you travel much?”
“No. Work and family keep me pretty close to home. I would love to travel more, but it’s hard when you have to get permission from so many people to move about for any length of time.”
“That’s very true. I hadn’t considered that. We have one clan member who travels a lot for business but he has standing arrangements with the clans in the cities he frequents.”
“What does he do?”
“Big business, investing, corporate buy-outs, that sort of thing. His wife was going to take over a lot of that but she just had a baby.”
“Oh, how wonderful. How many children are in your clan?”
“Just the one, but we don’t expect them to stop at an only child. That woman is baby crazy. And we have another clan member preparing to propose to his girlfriend, so …”
“Yes, I remember you mentioned that over coffee.” She sighed. “Must be nice. We have a few middle-aged couples with kids who are about to start shifting and some twenty-to-thirty somethings who haven’t gotten married yet.”
“Sounds like a pretty big clan.”
“Yeah, one of the largest in the north-east. I hear the ones here in Montana and elsewhere along the mountains are pretty large as well.”
“We’re very small, and we got small quite quickly. We lost two members to a plane crash, and my parents moved to Florida when my father retired. Oh, and we had one of our members transfer out for business. And in all that only one transferred in.”
“Plane crash? Wait, was that the Tandells?”
Remy nodded. He was fussing with the napkin-wrapped utensils, his eyes on his hands.
“I remember my dad was pretty upset by that. I was just a teen at the time.”
“Yeah, Brock and I were about eighteen or so. It was really rough for all of us.”
“You know, my father did some business with Brock’s father but that fell apart when Brock took active control of the company in his twenties and I never found out why. My father doesn’t like to talk about it much.”
Remy shrugged. “I just work in the marketing department. I’m not privy to any of that information.”
“And you’re not concerned with what business deals another member of your clan might be making?”
“He’s not an arms dealer or a drug dealer, so I’m not sure it’s any of my business. Sometimes I surprise him, ask him if he’s doing anything that would endanger us, anything illegal, put a little power behind it, and see what he says. He’s never lied and never given me reason for concern so I don’t meddle.”
“You’re very trusting.”
“I control only as much as I have to. The members of my clan are flourishing.”
They paused as Jeff brought out the appetizers. “Are either of you ready to order?”
“Oh, I’ve been so busy chatting I haven’t even looked at the menu!” Tara opened the folder.
Remy shook his head. “Well, I’ll have steak, the biggest one you’ve got, rare.”
“We have a hickory steak, a peppercorn steak, and a steak with caramelized onion and garlic.”
“Can I get the peppercorn with some of those onions on the top?”
“Sure. And you said rare?”
“Yes, please. Don’t worry about under cooking it.”
“That comes with either baked or mashed potatoes.” He was making notes as he walked Remy through the options.
“Baked please, with sour cream.”
“Perfect.” He turned to Tara. “Would you like another minute?”
“No, I think I’ll get the pulled pork sandwich with extra sauce.”
“Hickory, apple butter, or tangy?”
“Apple butter, please.”
“Regular fries or sweet potato?”
“Regular, with gravy.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
Remy shook his head.
“No, I think that’s everything, thanks.” Tara folded the menu and handed it to Jeff.
“Pulled pork, eh?” Remy said as Jeff walked away. “You’ll have to let me know how that apple barbecue sauce tastes.”
“Maybe if you ask real nice I’ll give you a bite,” she said sweetly. She reached over and grabbed a nacho. “Help yourself to onion rings.”
Their conversation slowed as they ate but was punctuated by frequent laughter. The onion rings were gone and they were polishing off the nachos while discussing jazz music, something they discovered they shared a passion for, when the rest of their food arrived. It looked good and smelled even better.
With their combined appetites, they made short work of all the food, both polishing off a pop on top of their first beverage, then they split the bill, paid, and headed back to the resort. The meal was perfect in every way and Tara had shared a few fries, dipped in the apple butter barbecue sauce, just so he could have a taste.
In the car, Tara pulled out her phone. “Oh shit, missed a call, hold on.” She dialed and Remy tried to pay attention to the road and not her conversation.
“Hey, I didn’t hear my phone, sorry. What did you need? No, I went out to dinner, you saw me leave, remember? I wasn’t planning on that, sorry. No, we’re on our way back. Yes, I can meet you there. Yeah. Okay.” She hung up.
“Emergency?”
“They need more volunteers again.”
“Then I guess I’d better get you back.”
“Yeah. Hey, I had a really good time today.”
“Me too.”
“I do have to do some work but did you want to do something tomorrow, too?”
“Whenever you’re free. Just shoot me a message.”
“Great.”
He parked and they got out. They were halfway across the lot when he stopped. “I think I left my wallet in the car. Go on, you don’t want to keep the other volunteers waiting. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, I hope so.”