by Teri Wilson
Sick of all of it.
But Lou was still his boss, at least for the time being. Ethan needed this job, so it was probably best to make an attempt to look enthusiastic. Or at the very least, awake. He sat up straighter on his bar stool.
Lou gave him a sideways glance. “Seriously, what does the wolf woman have you doing up there? Running laps around the mountain? Because you look bad.”
“I didn’t get much sleep last night, that’s all. I’m fine.” He forced a smile. He wasn’t fine. He kept hearing the awful things he’d said to Piper the night before. They went round and round in his head in a continuous loop.
I’m not one of your wolves.
She was kind. She was compassionate. She was real. And he’d taken that extraordinary authenticity of hers and thrown it back in her face.
His head hurt, along with his heart. “Is that what this urgent breakfast meeting is about, Lou? My appearance?”
Ethan’s phone had begun ringing at six o’clock. Again. These early-morning calls from his editor were becoming a habit. He’d ignored it the first time. But less than two minutes later, when his phone rang again, he’d managed to rouse himself and take the call. Ethan could think of only a handful of reasons his boss would want to drive to Aurora and talk to him first thing in the morning, and none of those reasons were pleasant. Then again, the last time Lou had demanded to see him like this he’d given Ethan his own column on the front page. So maybe things were better than they seemed.
Lou shook his head. “Things are not good, Ethan. Not good.”
So much for optimism.
He slapped the morning edition of the Yukon Reporter on the coffee bar and stabbed at Ethan’s thumbnail photo with his pointer finger. “Do you mind telling me what this is?”
Ethan flinched. My face? “Is there a problem with my column today, Lou?”
“Yes. Absolutely there’s a problem.” Lou tugged at his tie, and his face reddened a shade or two. Never a good sign. “Read it.”
“You want me to read my own column?” Lou’s behavior was bordering on ridiculous. Which could only mean he was even angrier than Ethan had realized. But why?
“Yes. Right now, while I wait.” Lou pushed the newspaper toward Ethan.
He took it and reread the article he’d turned in just prior to ten o’clock last night, before he’d made his ill-fated trip back to the wolf sanctuary. He’d proofread it for mistakes and typos, but maybe he’d missed something. He hadn’t exactly been giving his work his full attention lately.
But the piece read clean. He couldn’t figure out what his boss was so upset about. “Help me out here, Lou. I still don’t see anything wrong with it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with what you wrote. There is, however, something very wrong with what you didn’t write.” He snatched the newspaper from Ethan’s hands, flipped it to the center page and spread it open on the bar. “A rather glaring omission, don’t you think?”
At first Ethan didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at. The page Lou had offered up for inspection was the section reserved for local personal interest news. Bake sales, craft fairs, church picnics. That sort of thing. The editor in chief of the paper didn’t even oversee this section. Final copy was approved by a junior editor.
Case in point—the article at the very top centered around an upcoming dance recital. Ethan scanned the piece, just in case. “Tap, jazz, ballet.” Blah blah blah. “The recital will feature a fairy-tale theme, with dancers playing the parts of Cinderella, Snow White, Rapunzel, and even Little Red Riding Hood.”
Ethan’s gut churned.
Little Red Riding Hood?
He forced himself to keep reading, hating the direction his imagination was headed. Surely this had nothing to do with Piper and her wolves. It just wasn’t possible. But there it was, in black-and-white print...
“The grand finale of the recital will include an appearance by a live wolf from the Aurora Wolf and Wildlife Sanctuary. Don’t miss this chance to see Aurora’s youngest ballerinas and a real wolf, up close and in person!”
Up close. In person. At a children’s dance recital?
“No.” Ethan shook his throbbing head. “This isn’t happening.”
“Oh, it’s happening. In less than two weeks.” Lou stared at the page. “Are you telling me that you knew nothing about this?”
“Not a thing.”
“Can you explain to me how it is that I’ve given you prime placement on the front page of my newspaper and gotten you all day, every day access to the wolf sanctuary, and yet you seem to have no idea what’s going on there?” An angry vein throbbed in Lou’s forehead. Ethan wouldn’t have been surprised if his skull exploded.
He might even be able to understand if it had. His boss had every right to be angry. Ethan should have known about this. How had he missed it?
He strained for a memory of any indication, even the slightest hint, that Piper had planned something like this. He knew she was friendly with the ballet teacher, but she hadn’t breathed a word about a dance recital, much less the preposterous notion of a wolf in attendance.
He shook his head. “I don’t know...” Then he paused. “Wait, she mentioned something last night. Some sort of project that she’d been working on at the church thrift store.”
Now that he thought about it, he realized she’d been awfully vague about where she’d been the night before. He could have asked her. He should have asked her. But he hadn’t.
“It doesn’t matter now, does it?” Lou wadded the paper into a ball and pitched it into the trash can on the side of the coffee bar.
Ethan sighed. “Am I fired?”
He almost wished Lou would say yes. This entire ordeal was turning into an even bigger headache than Ethan had anticipated. He’d expected trouble from the wolves. He’d expected trouble grappling with his memories. But he’d never expected the conflicting feelings that Piper drew out of him. Last night he’d have offered up his family fortune to kiss her. And now...
He couldn’t have possibly been angrier with her. She’d kept this from him. Intentionally. He knew it as surely as he knew that snow was white.
“I can’t fire you. Things are certain to heat up now that this recital is on the horizon. But I need you to get your head on straight. Get some sleep, for crying out loud. And find out what the wolf woman is up to, would you? Don’t let her out of your sight. Understood?”
“Yes.” Ethan nodded grimly.
Don’t let her out of his sight? How was he going to manage that and somehow get to Seattle for an interview?
He’d figure it out. He had no choice. He couldn’t keep putting off Anna Plum. She was the editor in chief of a major newspaper. Finally, he might have a chance to move on and leave Alaska behind him. As far as he was concerned, the interview in Seattle couldn’t come quickly enough. Surely he could hold out until he managed to get out of Alaska without losing his mind.
Don’t let her out of your sight.
Then again, maybe not.
* * *
Piper somehow successfully managed to traverse the snowy sidewalks of downtown Aurora all the way from the Northern Lights Inn coffee bar to Posy’s ballet school, while at the same time balancing a cardboard tray of coffee cups in each hand. Then she saw Ethan leaning against the white gingerbread trim of the building with his arms crossed and his gray eyes full of thunder, and her concentration slipped.
What was he doing at the ballet school? And so early in the morning?
She wasn’t prepared to see him yet. Not after the awkwardness of the night before. She’d planned on putting in an hour or two with the recital committee, working on props, before facing him at the wolf sanctuary. Clear her head. Take her mind off things. Specifically, off him.
But here he was. Glowering. Waiting. For her?
Goodness, she hoped not.
Then he spotted her, pushed off the wall and planted himself in her path. Waiting for her indeed.
Piper tried
her best to pretend she didn’t see him. She tried so hard that in all her concentration, she lost her footing on an icy patch of pavement. Her hiking boots slid like ice skates until she glided to a stop directly in front of Ethan. The coffee cups, however, kept moving. Before she could stop them, six cups of Gold Rush blend upended themselves, tumbled to the ground and landed with a caffeinated splash on Ethan’s impatient feet.
Oh, no.
She stared down at the mess, too shocked to do much else.
Ethan glanced at his boots and frowned. “Am I imagining things, or do you have a vendetta against every pair of footwear I own?”
“I’m sorry.” She squatted and dabbed at the mess with a handful of flimsy napkins from the coffee bar. Her efforts were wholly ineffectual, but she kept at it because she’d rather do anything—even wash his feet, biblical-style—than look him in the eye at the moment. “So, so sorry.”
Dab, dab, dab.
The napkins began to disintegrate in her hands.
“Piper.” His voice was deadly calm. “Stand up.”
She obeyed, chastised herself for doing so, then squatted again. He couldn’t order her around. He wasn’t her boss. It was the other way around, wasn’t it?
This is ridiculous. She was making the whole situation more uncomfortable. Who knew such a thing was even possible?
She gave one of his feet a final dab with a wet shred of napkin and then stood. “There.”
“All finished?” he asked, looking far too smug for her liking.
“I suppose.” She wiggled her nose. He reeked of coffee now. And probably would for all eternity. “Again, sorry. You startled me. I didn’t expect to see you here.”
He lifted an irate brow. “I’ll bet you didn’t.”
She swallowed and reminded herself that she didn’t have a single thing to feel guilty about. She’d done nothing wrong. Except shower his feet in hot coffee, that is. “What are you doing here, Ethan?”
“My job.”
“But your job isn’t here. It’s at the wolf sanctuary. And it doesn’t start for...” She reached into her pocket for her cell phone and glanced at the time. “Another hour and twenty minutes.”
“Not that job, lovely. My real job. I’m not always a poop scooper for wolves. I’m a professional reporter, remember?”
As if she could forget such an annoying detail. Even more annoying—the way she went all fluttery inside when he called her “lovely,” despite the fact that it dripped with sarcasm. “How could I forget?”
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out about this?” He pulled a folded sheet of pink paper from the pocket of his parka and whipped it open inches from her face.
Piper didn’t need to read it. She’d seen dozens of fliers just like it already. In fact, she’d helped tack them up all over downtown Aurora after the tutu party. “Posy’s recital? I had no idea you had such a keen interest in dance.”
“Enough.” He thrust the flier at her again. “Why didn’t you tell me about this?”
She shrugged. “Why would I? You would have only told me what a terrible idea it was.”
“Maybe because it is a terrible idea,” he fumed.
She told herself not to let his criticism get to her, especially in light of the things he’d shared with her last night. But it was awfully difficult to ignore the disapproval in his tone. “Ethan...”
“You’re not doing this.” He waved the flier like a madman.
“Yes I am, Mr. Bossy Pants. You can’t stop me.” Didn’t he see that this was all his doing, anyway? “First, you drive away all my visitors by saying such awful things in the newspaper, then you refuse to help me with grant paperwork and now you’re trying to tell me I can’t participate in a community event. It’s not going to work this time.”
“You can participate all you want. Put on a pair of ballet shoes and pirouette across the entire Yukon for all I care.” His arm waving kicked into overdrive. He really needed to calm down. People all up and down the sidewalk were beginning to stare. “Your wolves, on the other hand...”
“Wolf. Singular. It’s Koko, and he wouldn’t harm a fly. You should know that by now.” Seriously. Where had Ethan been for the past week?
He crossed his arms and glared down at her. “Is this the same Koko who ate the shoes right off my feet?”
He had to bring that up again, didn’t he? She lifted her chin and glared right back. “I’m beginning to think you have an unhealthy attachment to your shoes. Who are you, Carrie Bradshaw?”
“Piper.” He said it like a warning rather than a name. She almost wished he’d go back to calling her “lovely.”
“I don’t know why you’re so angry,” Piper said. “I’m the one who’s been wronged. Not you.” An awkward silence fell between them. Because she actually did understand now. A little, at least.
All those awful things he’d penned about her wolves? He hadn’t written them about Koko or Tundra or Shasta. He’d been writing about the bear. That bear was behind all this.
She sighed. “Ethan, can’t you see what’s happening? You’ve made it nearly impossible for the sanctuary to survive.”
“And you nearly got me fired this morning, so we’re even.”
She blinked. “Fired? How?”
He jerked his all-too-handsome head in the direction of the ballet school. “Let’s just say that my editor was less than thrilled to discover I knew nothing about your scheme to put a wolf in a tutu.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. I’m just trying to stay solvent.” Which was looking more impossible by the minute. “Lou’s not actually going to fire you, is he?”
“Not unless I get scooped again by another reporter. Which will definitely not happen, because I’ve been ordered to not let you out of my sight.” Ethan gave her a tight smile, and she honestly couldn’t tell whether he hated the prospect of being stuck to her like glue or kind of liked it.
But he couldn’t possibly be fond of the idea. It sounded loathsome on every level.
“Right.” She rolled her eyes.
“I’m serious. Where you go, I go.”
He had to be joking. She couldn’t walk around with Ethan stuck to her side for the remainder of his time at the sanctuary. She simply could not. “I believe that’s considered stalking.”
He shrugged. “Call the police. I’ve got Tate Hudson’s number right here.” Ethan offered her his phone.
She had a mind to snatch it and hit him over the head with it. “Fine. Loiter out here all you want. I’m going inside. I’ve got a committee meeting to attend.”
Before Ethan could give voice to the snide comment that Piper was certain he had at the ready, the door to the dance studio opened and Posy poked her head outside.
“Good morning, you two.” Her gaze flitted back and forth between them. Piper completely ignored the mess on Ethan’s feet, as if having coffee tossed at him were a daily occurrence. Which it should be, as far as she was concerned. “Is everything okay out here?”
“We just had a little coffee accident, that’s all.” Which Piper had completely absolved herself from, seeing as Ethan was pretending nothing whatsoever had transpired between them the night before, and had gone back to being his insufferable self. “I’m ready to get to work and help make some papier-mâché trees.”
“For goodness’ sake, come inside and get out of the cold.” Posy held the door open.
Piper bent to pick up all the empty coffee cups and cardboard trays, then stood and gave Ethan a final nod. “It was nice to see you, Ethan.” Not.
But when she climbed the studio steps, she didn’t need to turn around to know that he’d followed right on her heels. His presence behind her was too intense to ignore.
She spun around. “Do not follow me in here, Ethan. Honestly.”
“Um, Piper, he’s not following you,” Posy said, offering Ethan a smile that he returned with saccharine sincerity. Piper somehow managed not to throw up. “Ethan called me this morn
ing and volunteered his services for the recital committee. I said yes, of course. The more, the merrier. Right?”
Seriously?
I’ve been ordered not to let you out of my sight.
Piper stared at Ethan, aghast.
“The more, the merrier,” he echoed, and as soon as Posy turned her back, he shot Piper a triumphant wink. “Right, Piper?”
“Right,” she muttered, and did her best to ignore the way his wink skittered through her in a riot of shivers.
Ugh.
Chapter Nine
Piper dropped the coffee mess in the trash and hung her parka on one of the hooks lining the wall in the entryway of the dance studio. Ethan hung his coat on the neighboring hook. No doubt on purpose. Their parkas hung side by side, arms touching, and for some silly reason a lump formed in Piper’s throat.
Ridiculous. She swiveled to face Ethan. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish. We’re not even discussing Koko this morning. We’re working on props.”
“So you say.” He gave her a playful tap on the nose. The fact that his placement on the recital committee had clearly annoyed her seemed to take the edge off his anger.
Piper wondered if it was indeed too late to get him fired. Not that she actually would, tempting as it might be. “We’ll see how smug you are once you’re elbow-deep in papier-mâché.”
He pushed up the sleeves of his sweater, exposing those gorgeous nonwriterly forearms of his. Probably because they were actually park ranger forearms. “Bring it on, lovely.”
She really wished he would stop calling her that. “I can’t deal with you right now. I just can’t. I’m going to walk to the other side of the room, and it would be lovely if you would stay here.”
She turned on her heel and headed for Posy’s coffeemaker, since she’d dumped her morning caffeine fix, plus everyone else’s, on his feet. What a phenomenal waste of good coffee.
