Fox Lost (The Madison Wolves)

by Robin Roseau

  "Why is everyone smiling?"

  "Why haven't you already been going?" Serena asked. "Answer honestly."

  "I've had a lot to do with my job," I said.

  "And?"

  "You already know the answer, Serena."

  "Tell me anyway."

  "I didn't want to add to your work load."

  "You know, there are online programs," Serena said.

  "When I go, I want the entire experience," I said.

  "So you're going to live in a dorm?" Angel asked.

  I laughed. "Okay maybe not the entire, entire experience. I'll talk to Lara about it. Did you need to be there, Serena?"

  "No."

  "It won't be full time," I said. "You're awfully quiet up there, Michele."

  "If you need tutoring, let me know," she said, turning around and offering a grin. "Honestly, I think college would be good for you."

  "It would fix the holes in my education?" I asked.

  "No. It would fix the holes in your confidence."

  "I think it's time you tell me what you need me to do tonight. Lara told me I should be charming, pick up the check, and back you up."

  Michele smiled again. "This meal is relationship building. That's all. Lara invited them before that other issue came up. They aren't expecting to talk business. They just want an expensive meal out on Lara's money. You're there so they don't feel slighted, but we're also trying to get them used to dealing with me instead of running to Lara with everything."

  "So let you handle everything. If I don't understand what is going on, do I shut up, or should I ask?"

  "Ask. Be involved. Try not to undermine me, however."

  "If I have a problem, I'll play with my hair. I'll establish an apparent habit when we first meet so it seems natural if I do it later."

  "All right," Michele agreed.

  Dinner was at one of the steak houses owned by a pack member. Between all the various pack members, businesses in the food industry were popular. Until they sold it, Elisabeth and Lara had owned a line of grocery stores. There were still three small neighborhood grocers, four catering services, and seven restaurants owned and operated by various pack members, including a new bakery that was just getting off the ground. I was a minority investor in that business.

  For my own money, I had long accepted Lara's offer of a very generous budget to cover my costs as the alpha's mate, but I had turned down her offer of a personal budget as well. With my duties as alpha's mate covered, and living in Lara's house, my personal expenses were almost nothing, and even on my teacher's salary, I was saving money every month. So with Lara's and Elisabeth's help, I had begun investing in pack businesses, and I was even on the board of directors of two small startups.

  Neither Lara nor I had a financial interest in tonight's restaurant, The Back Burner. I thought it was an unfortunate name for a restaurant, but it was a good place for business meetings. Rather than one large dining room, there were several modest rooms as well as a few fairly private alcoves. We pulled up to the front of the restaurant, and Serena said, "Portia and Angel, check the arrangements." The two climbed from the car, and then Eric drove us to the parking lot beside the building. Michele and I talked quietly while we waited.

  Several minutes later, Portia rapped her knuckles on Serena's door. Serena opened the window, and Portia reported, "It looks clear. We have a back room. We're early. The restaurant is otherwise pretty full. We'll encounter fewer people if we arrive through the back."

  "Unless it's a problem," I said, "I would prefer to use the front door."

  "Portia?" Serena asked.

  She shrugged. "No objections."

  "I have some," Angel said. "I recognized the wolves at one of the tables. I do not want to take the fox past that table."

  "Portia?" Serena asked.

  "There were two tables with wolves in the main dining room," she said. "I didn't see anything wrong with them."

  "Serena," Angel said. "I'm serious. I do not want them even seeing the fox is here tonight."

  "Take her seriously," I said just loudly enough for Serena to hear me, "and find out what's going on later."

  "No," she replied. "I will find out what is going on right now." She turned back to Angel. "There is more I need to know, isn't there?"

  "Nothing specific. I told Elisabeth about it. I had two of them in one of my classes last year, and they asked more questions than I cared for."

  "What kind of questions?"

  Her eyes flashed to me for a moment. "May I tell you privately, Serena? I reported everything to Elisabeth. Should I have told you, too?"

  "Only if Elisabeth told you to," she said. "Can we get Michaela inside without being seen?"

  "Through the back. We went in the front and out the back."

  "Angel," I said, "did the wolves in question threaten me?"

  "Michaela," she whined.

  "Answer me, Angel."

  "Elisabeth told me not to tell you or Lara. Please don't put me in the middle, Michaela."

  "Serena, your call. I will be talking to my sister-in-law."

  "For that conversation, Alpha," Serena said, "she is your head enforcer, and security is her responsibility, not yours."

  "If there are wolves in this pack who want a fox hunt, I will damned will give them a hunt they'll never forget!"

  "Michaela," said Angel, "it wasn't that. Okay? It wasn't that. They're just really big assholes, okay?"

  "We'll go through the back," Serena said. "Angel to lead. Michaela, you will stick to my side. Do I make myself clear?"

  I sighed. "Yes, Serena."

  "Michele," Serena said, "I want it to look like we're guarding you. Angel and Eric, you stay between Michaela and anyone who might recognize her. No one will see her behind you. Portia, take up the rear."

  The enforcers all climbed out of the car, and then Eric made a point of helping Michele from the vehicle, holding her arm the same way Serena often held mine. I was the last one out, and I couldn't see a thing past all the wolves, and even Michele was bigger than I was. We made our way to the building and stepped inside, pausing to let our eyes adjust for a moment. Angel led the way, and I arrived at our assigned room without ever seeing any other wolves. Michele took a seat, gesturing me to a place on her left. Serena left Eric, Angel and Portia to guard the entrance to our little room while taking a place behind my chair.

  I glanced over at Angel, and I could tell she was upset. I gestured to Serena, who bent down over my shoulder.

  "Would it violate security to send Angel to talk to me for a brief moment?"

  "Are you going to grill her?"

  "I'm going to give her a hug and thank her for watching out for me."

  Serena glanced over towards the entrance. "She's being emotional."

  "She's upset. She's afraid I'll make her tell me what they said. I already have a good idea. I'm going to drop it. She was my student and my friend long before she became an enforcer. She'll get better. Serena, I really like having her on my security detail."

  "I'll take her place for a minute," she said.

  Serena stepped away and moved to stand behind Angel, whispering in her ear. I did the best I could to ignore the conversation, but I couldn't help it. She simply told Angel, "The alpha wants to see you. You aren't in trouble."

  Angel nodded once and backed into the room, waiting there until Serena took her place. Then she stepped around to me. I stood up before she got there and held my arms open, asking for a hug.

  "I'm on duty," she said, stopping two steps away."

  "Get over here, Angel," I told her.

  She took the two steps, and I wrapped her in a hug. She crouched down for me before returning the hug, and I could speak directly in her ear.

  "I love you, Angel," I said. "Thank you for watching out for me."

  "You're not going to make me tell?"

  "No, honey."

  We squeezed each other for another minute, one of us being far more gentle than the other was, and t
hen we released each other. I caressed her cheek briefly and told her she was back on duty. She returned to Serena, and the two exchanged places again.

  After that, Angel looked confident and professional. Serena returned to her post behind me and whispered, "Better. Thank you, Alpha."

  I reached behind me and clasped her hand for a moment.

  A minute later, our waitress appeared, a mid-twenties wolf named Paige. Serena interrupted her, and I heard her tell Paige that she was to answer no questions about who was in this room. We wouldn't be using this restaurant if the staff was indiscrete, and the woman nodded understanding before turning to Michele and me.

  "Will there be more coming?" she asked.

  "We're expecting two more," Michele said. She turned to me. "Did you wish to select a wine?"

  "I will only have a splash or two," I said. I looked up at Paige. "I mean that, by the way. Do you understand?"

  She nodded.

  "What non-alcoholic drinks are available?"

  "A variety of soft drinks, iced tea, lemonade, coffee, hot tea-"

  "Hot tea," I said, "A pot, if that is possible."

  "Yes, Alpha," she said.

  Michele ordered a starter bottle of wine and a second bottle with dinner. "And water," she added.

  Paige disappeared, and before she could return with my tea, Eric said over his shoulder, "They're here, but it looks like there are four of them."

  Serena moved away from me and looked past Eric. "Let them through," she said. "Portia, I need you inside with me." Then she turned to me. She spoke quietly, but I heard every word. "I need you to remain hidden from the next room."

  I nodded. I thought everyone was being paranoid, but I was long used to it.

  A moment later, the enforcers parted, Portia stepping backwards and taking a place in the corner. Michele and I stood up, and four large wolves stepped between Angel and Eric.

  Michele shook hands with two of the men; it was clear she knew them, and then she introduced me to Frank Harvey and Devon Anderson. Frank looked to be about fifty and very hale. Devon was a few years younger and built like a cement block. But when I shook hands with them, they both offered a polite grip.

  "This is Kurt Andreen," Frank said, gesturing to another wolf. He looked a little out of place in an ill-fitting, cheap suit, and when we shook hands, his grip was weak. That didn't say anything except he was being careful not to squish my hand.

  "And this is my son, Zachary," Frank said.

  "Please call me Zach," the man said. He was dressed better than Mr. Andreen, and his grip was firmer than I prefer, but I decided it wasn't intentional. "Who are all of these?" He gestured to my security detail.

  "Dinner with the alpha is never just with the alpha," I said. "They're here to make sure no one disturbs us."

  "It's like meeting a mob boss!" Zach said. His father winced. "They're your muscle."

  "More like meeting the president, Zachary," Frank explained. "I do not believe you should compare our pack to organized crime."

  I smiled to let them know there was no offense taken. "To be honest, I've had that thought myself a few times in the past. I once asked Lara who she thought would play my part as the moll in the movie adaptation." I played with my hair a little.

  Frank returned my smile.

  "We weren't expecting four of you," Michele said. "We'll need to ask for a couple more chairs." The table was big enough for six, but it was going to be cozy.

  Michele and Frank made small talk until the waitress returned with my pot of tea and a basket of bread.

  "Oh," she said. "Do we need more places?"

  "Two more," Michele said.

  Paige was quite efficient, and it was only a few moments before the six of us were seated. I had Zach to my left. Michele had Kurt to her right. Frank and Devon were across the table from us.

  Paige poured my tea. Michele explained about the wine but suggested we may need additional bottles, and Paige asked for drink orders.

  "I'll have, um," said Zach. "Um. A martini. Shaken, not stirred."

  Frank didn't quite groan, but I wondered if it was a close call. I wondered if Zach had the vaguest idea what a martini was. Well, he wasn't my responsibility to babysit.

  "Gin or vodka?" Paige asked.

  "Um," said Zach.

  "Ron Berg told me the vodka martinis here are very good," I said, "but I'm sure the gin martinis are equally good."

  "What she said," Zach answered. "A vodka martini. Shaken, not stirred."

  "Very good," said Paige. She even kept a straight face. "Did you wish to call the brand?"

  Zach looked like a deer in the headlights.

  "Perhaps you would like Grey Goose vodka," I suggested quietly.

  "Is that good?" he asked me.

  "Yes," I said. "Just as importantly, it's not from Russia."

  He frowned. "I thought all the best vodka was from Russia."

  "That is what the Russians would like you to believe, but neither Lara nor I purchase any products made in Russia, and Grey Goose is as good as any vodka you might find."

  "All right," he said. "Grey Goose, please." I thought it was a close call, but he didn't ask for it to be shaken a third time.

  Frank and Michele discussed wine for a moment, and Frank declared he would enjoy the wine Michele had ordered. Devon asked for wine as well, and then Kurt looked uncomfortable. Finally he turned to Frank, who told him to get what he wanted. He offered a relieved look and asked the waitress to bring a beer. "Whatever is on tap is fine," he said.

  "Sir," she said, "we have twenty-one varieties on tap. We have a list." She leaned forward, collecting the wine list from the center of the table, and opened it before handing it to Kurt. Kurt looked at the list, chagrined.

  "Doesn't Elisabeth usually get the Sam Adams?" I asked Michele.

  "Yes, I think so," said Michele. "Rory likes Guinness, but it's an acquired taste. Daniel keeps Sam Adams at home." She turned to Kurt. "Daniel is my husband."

  "I just want a beer," Kurt said.

  "Perhaps the Sam Adams Boston Lager," Michele said.

  "I can bring a sample," the waitress offered.

  "No, a regular glass will be fine," he said. "A big glass."

  "Yes, sir," Paige replied. "I'll bring a second basket of bread, and your wine will be along in a moment. I'll tell you about our specials when I get back with your drinks."

  Frank looked embarrassed. I didn't think he should, although I was curious why he had brought Kurt and Zach. This wasn't a pretentious restaurant, but they were acting like they never went anywhere fancier than McDonald's.

  "Well," said Michele. "Thank you all for coming tonight."

  "I should have warned you we were coming as four," Frank said. "It was a last minute decision. We decided some of the younger drivers should have some representation in these talks. Kurt and Zachary are here to learn and keep their mouths closed."

  "Quite all right," Michele said. "We're happy to have them." She looked at Kurt. "You and Zach are drivers?"

  "Yes," said Kurt. "I drive long haul, Madison, Minneapolis, then all the way to Tacoma, sometimes with stops in North Dakota and Montana. I return through Portland, Denver, and Des Moines."

  "I do local deliveries," Zach said, tearing off a piece of bread. But I noticed his napkin was in his lap and he didn't stuff the bread into his mouth while any of us were looking at him.

  "My son is young," Frank said, "but he's a good driver."

  "I like driving," Zach said. "I can listen to my music, and unless I'm really late, the people are usually nice to me when I make a delivery."

  "You know," I said, "those sound like excellent reasons to like your job, Zach. Do you drive a big truck?"

  "I'm licensed," he said, "and sometimes I have to do an interstate trip, but in town we use smaller trucks."

  "You know," I said, "I've never thought about this, but do we need, well, permission to drive outside Wisconsin?"

  "Some professions have special dispens
ation by agreement of all the alphas," Michele explained. "Over the road truck drivers and airline pilots, for instance."

  "And military personnel," Frank said. "I was special forces in my younger years. That's how Devon and I met."

  "Frank was my sergeant," Devon explained.

  That was when Paige returned. She set out a second basket of bread, Kurt's beer, and Zach's martini. Zach eyed it dubiously. Then an older gentleman appeared carrying a bottle of wine. Paige pointed to me, and the sommelier stepped around the table to me.

  "Michele," I said quietly.

  "Ask Frank," she said even more quietly.

  "Frank," I said immediately, "would you care to do the honors with the wine?"

  "Of course," he said. So the sommelier made the circuit of the room. We all watched as he made a show of opening the wine. Frank sampled it and declared it excellent, and then the sommelier crossed the room to me again and began filling my glass.

  "Two splashes," I said. "And don't refill it later unless I ask."

  He nodded and filled my glass more than I wanted. Well, I didn't have to drink it all, but I hated wasting it. He filled Michele's, then Frank's and Devon's before setting the wine bottle on the table before departing.

  Paige told us the specials, and I found myself with something I rarely experienced: the need to order my own dinner. But I'd been to dinner with Michele before. "I am having the lamb but I'll trade you some for some of whatever you order," she offered.

  "Fish?"

  "Perfect."

  I stressed with Paige that I wasn't a wolf, and she smiled.

  "I understand, Alpha. A human portion?"

  "Yes, perfect."

  She finished taking orders. Zach still hadn't touched his martini. Paige was about to leave when he spoke up. "There's no ice in my drink."

  I put my hand on his arm, stealing his attention, and Michele waved Paige out the door.

  "Frank," I said, "Have you ever thought about how they make a martini?"

  "You know, I can't say I have."

  "Does anyone mind if I act the science teacher for a minute?"

  "Of course not," Frank replied immediately. "This should be fascinating."

  "Well, a martini is actually quite simple in most ways. It is almost pure vodka, or if you prefer, gin. You start by preparing the glass. I am not a martini drinker, so for me this is a science experiment. But it seems like the preparation of the glass is the biggest difference in how martinis are made. You want to start with a cool glass. The times I have watched, the bartender pours a small amount of Vermouth into the glass, swirls it around, and then dumps it out."