Thorn shook his head. “Don’t need backup.”
“That ain’t what we heard,” Casper said. “So, it don’t matter what you want. You let us run free. Never complain when we take some venison home to the pack. That’s the life we came here for. We’re gonna do everything it takes to keep it that way.”
Who had the wolves been talking to? The Vet? Felicity? Thorn downed the rest of his coffee. “You can do whatever you want, but I don’t want help.”
“One for the road.” Laramie pushed another big paper cup of coffee in his hand. “There’s benefits to networking, pal.”
Coffee and donuts was a pretty good benefit, Thorn thought as the Marinos got into their trucks. He didn’t know who put them up to it, but maybe, just maybe, he could work with the wolf shifters. Not that he needed to. He could handle the situation himself.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Head held high, Felicity marched from the parking garage beneath her office building to the elevators. If these investors wanted a fight, she was ready to give them one. Of course, any thought of a fight brought Thorn to mind. Ignoring the pain in her heart, she stabbed the call button with her index finger. Despite anything else he was, Thorn was calm in battle. Felicity steadied herself as the doors opened on the lobby.
“Thank God, Felicity, we’ve got a lot to talk about. We managed to push the investor meeting back to lunch. It’ll give us time to prep.” Barry—had he been waiting for her by the elevator?
Felicity glowered. “Prep for what? Now that we’ve got the project moving, they want to adjust terms to grab a bigger slice. You know how they work.”
They walked toward her office together. Not a corner office, not yet, but one day. “They might have grounds this time.”
“Meaning?”
“You don’t have more than a handshake deal with the retail tenants.”
She pushed through her door and set her briefcase on the desk. “I don’t even have that. I made some calls, got a lot of interest. Why are we even concerned about this now? I was thinking we launch the business phase in the spring.”
Barry sat in one of her guest chairs. He was a redhead, balding on top, rimless glasses and traditional dark blue suit on his lanky frame. “Mixed use is the buzzword investors love.”
“Sure, we’ll put up a skyscraper and six big box stores in the woods. This is a long term development. We’re developers, right?”
Barry took off his glasses and polished them with his red tie. “I know we’ve talked about moving slowly, and working with this project for the next ten years. That’s great for the firm. Investors don’t care about that. They want a return.”
She sat at her desk, booted the computer. “They’ll get it. It’s just three apartment buildings right now, sixty-nine units, they’ll produce enough revenue to repay the loan in two years, generate a nice profit for the third year, and another percentage when we sell.”
“How do you know?” Barry leaned forward. “How do you know the buildings will be fully occupied?”
How did she know? In all of her planning, it never once occurred to her that finding tenants would be an issue. She held her palms out to him. “Instinct.”
Barry smirked and leaned back. “You’re going to sell these sharks on instinct?”
“No. You already have. That warehouse renovation I proposed? Millions. The Lark Hotel? Dockside Condos? Have I ever missed, Barry?”
“This is your first ground-up project, Felicity. It’s out in the middle of nowhere. You make it look good on paper, but rationally, it’s a huge risk. That’s what these people are going to say. They’ll threaten to pull out unless you show them their investment is sound.”
She shook her head. “No, they won’t. They’ll whine about taking such a huge gamble and wheedle until we give them more. I’m not playing that game.”
Barry steepled his fingers and held them against his lips. “Could you do me a favor and just call your retail folks? Get something more than strong interest? Anything we can bring to the table?”
She blew out her cheeks. “Whatever, Barry.”
***
Thorn had to make a pit stop at a service station, partly for gas, partly to empty his bladder after slamming thirty-two ounces of coffee. When he arrived at Topiary Bob’s house, a white Marino Bros. work truck pulled away from the curb. He squinted at it, wondering what they were doing at Boyce’s job site.
He sighed when he looked at the mess of trunk and branches lying in the side yard. It would take hours to take it all down to size and stack it.
Topiary Bob wandered around the side of the house, Steve in tow. Thorn gassed up his saw and met them.
“Don’t think I want a cord of wood stacked on this side of the house,” Bob said. “I think I want you to move it all for me.”
Thorn had predicted this. “Whatever.”
“Hold up a minute. Listen, Bob, Thorn here doesn’t work cheap. If you want to stay under budget, I’ll just get some of my laborers to move all this,” Steve said. “Not that Thorn would mind earning another couple grand.”
Couple grand to shove a bunch of wood in his truck and drive it to the other side of the house? What was up here?
Bob, being on the small side, liked to boss larger people around given any opportunity—Thorn had smelled it on him since day one. The backyard Napoleon cocked his head and sniffed. “Well, I guess it can just stay here then. Put a tarp on it.”
When the homeowner shuffled away, Thorn gave Steve the stink-eye. “What was that, Steve?”
“Nothing. Bob’s just that type.”
“C’mon, man.”
Boyce glanced over his shoulder. “I got a visit from one of the Marino boys.”
“So?”
Steve tightened his lips, as if to keep his next words inside. He let it out anyway. “The Marino brothers are sort of the de facto labor union around here. If I need a bunch of guys to haul wood, I call the Marinos. If I don’t, the guys I do pick up to haul wood end up wandering off, and my projects get way behind.”
Thorn shrugged. “I work alone.”
“Did you file a claim on your truck?”
He eyed the sad-looking truck on the street. “Not yet.”
“Good. I’m putting it on the site insurance.”
Thorn shook his head. “You don’t need to do that. That was my bad.”
“Even if my rates go up, getting on the Marinos’ good side always pays off.” Steve pocketed his hands. “Whatever you did to get friendly with those boys, they sure got your back.”
Thorn watched Steve’s retreating back. What had he done to get in with the Marinos? Laramie said something about Felicity vouching for him when the renegade bear tore up Ripple. Had she done something more? Just what he needed, dumped by his girl, stuck with a bunch of yahoo wolf shifters.
He started the chainsaw. Thorn hoped the mundane work would drive the thoughts of Felicity out of his head. Dropping protection over his ears and eyes, he started chunking the tree.
***
Felicity felt a whirlwind of emotion as she headed to the lunch meeting. The company secretary had set it up at Le Cheval Blanc. It was, of course, Felicity’s favorite place to bring clients and investors. Now, she felt the weight of recent affairs, and terrible events from the past, associated with this fancy eatery.
Barry had offered to come with her, but Felicity decided to take a page from Thorn’s book. She had his deeds, after all. Felicity would face the investors alone.
The meeting went exactly the way she predicted. Three guys in suits presented a lot of reports and charts and evidence that her project wouldn’t fly. Felicity knew that if they really believed that, they would’ve dropped the whole thing with a phone call. It was all a game, but it was a game she played well—cat and mouse. She waited for the bomb to drop.
The three men all looked the same, standard Masters of the Universe types in expensive suits and haircuts. Each wore gold watches they never looked at because they also had
the latest cell phone. They smelled like money. While Felicity knew money was essential in the human world, she was not addicted to the folding green.
One of them, the one who had done most of the talking (and even if she did remember their names, she doubted she could tell them apart), finally came out with it. “In order to proceed with this project, we need to be cut in for an additional five percent across the board. Otherwise, we feel the potential for failure is too great.”
A pause followed as the waiter set out dessert and coffee. Felicity gazed at the chocolate mousse, still a little woozy from her last bout of chocolate binging. She folded her hands and looked at each of them in turn. “No.”
The three of them blinked, shot each other side-eyed glances.
“Excuse me?”
Felicity took her briefcase from the floor and opened it in her lap. “I said no. We’re going to continue with the plan as is.”
The leader gave her condescending eyebrows. “Did you not hear anything we just said?”
She took out the deeds and handed them across the table. “This is a sound project. But you don’t have to take my word for it. A silent partner has agreed to finance some of the later stages. Of course, if you want to back out, I have no problem using these to finance the initial stage as well.”
All three took a look at the deeds, the size of the property. She could almost hear cash register bells going off in their brains. These were finance guys, and they knew money when they saw it. Felicity took the deeds back and put them in the case.
“Those aren’t legal,” the leader said.
She put the case back next to her chair. “You’re the ones who pushed for this meeting. I haven’t had time to dot the I’s and cross the T’s. Your firm is in on the ground floor. Would you like to keep it that way?”
It was half-bluff, but only half. Felicity could finance her dreams with these deeds. Except, had her dreams changed? For the life of her, she couldn’t imagine a future without the handsome Lumberjack at her side. How had an independent cat like her ended up pining for a freaking bear? She held her breath, and waited for the investors’ response.
Chapter Twenty-Six
By lunch, the tree was a neat stack of firewood. Thorn shook the sawdust off of him. He’d only had a couple jelly donuts for breakfast. Maneuvering the heavy saw was hard enough work. Keeping his heartbreak at bay (so he could focus enough to avoid cutting off an arm or a leg) was beyond taxing. He sat on the wood stack, gazing west.
What was Felicity doing now? Cashing in his deeds? Was that even a thing? Was she sitting in a fancy restaurant exclaiming to the world what an idiot Thorn was for handing them over? It would be in that fancy French place. She and the maître d’ would chuckle together about Thorn’s stupidity, gullibility, whatever-ty.
He closed his eyes and took a long breath. What a sucker he was. How long had he known Felicity, a few days? The cat shifter had managed to turn him inside out in such a short time. Buying flowers, going on dates, planning romantic dates, for fuck’s sake. Thorn had spent his whole life avoiding entanglements with others. The pain currently searing his soul was proof that his previous life had been spent correctly.
He had tried so hard with Felicity. He had never bothered before. Still, despite the bonfire of heartache before him, in the dark background he held out hope that Felicity was thinking of him. Hopefully in a more upbeat way than his imagination dictated.
Work done, he wanted to knock off for the day. He couldn’t. Sally needed him. He promised The Vet he would try to take care of her. Since when had he felt obligated to help anybody? It was like being with Felicity had tenderized him. She’d made him goofy, soft, pliable. So much so that he was willing to play nursemaid for a newbie shifter.
Thorn needed to fight someone, to toughen himself back up again. He couldn’t wander through life pining for a girl who played him, taking handout coffee and donuts and shady backup from wolves, mothering some chick who stumbled into a bear shifter. What the hell was wrong with him?
Still, an hour later, he was knocking on the back door of the Squirrels Nuts.
“Open up, Sally, I got soup.” Thorn didn’t think Sally was exactly sick, but soup seemed to be right for the occasion. It was either that, or raw meat. He didn’t think she was ready for that.
It took a while, but the door opened a crack. “I’m not hungry.” Sally peered out, oversized shirt buttoned up tight, ugly glasses perched on her nose, hair snagged in an off-center ponytail. Back to normal.
“Yeah, well, we gotta talk. Open up. I’m hungry enough to eat all the soup.” He pushed his way in. “You gotta big pan?”
Thorn saw claw marks on the kitchen walls, the door of the commercial stove dented in, the shelves nearly empty. The enemy bear had done all that. Thorn recognized the damage from his own kitchen. Had the asshole taken out her coffee maker?
“I don’t think you should be here, Thorn.”
He found a pan himself, and a can opener. “Why?”
She stared down at her feet and the scuffed linoleum. “I really screwed things up for you.”
“I’m way better at screwing things up for me than you’ll ever be.” He dumped four cans of soup and put on the heat.
“No, I mean between you and Felicity.”
The name felt like a punch in the gut. “I think I screwed that pooch long before you showed up naked.”
“You’re in love with her.”
A cascade of sorrow swept through Thorn. Maybe it was hearing the words from someone else. For the first time since he was a child, he wanted to cry. He blinked away the tears. For fuck’s sake! “I haven’t known her that long.”
“Doesn’t matter—I can tell. She’s in love with you, too.”
“Bullshit. But we’re not here to talk about my sad, fucked up life. We’re here to talk about your sad, fucked up life.” He stirred the soup and started hunting for bowls.
Sally was silent for a while. She found bowls for him, and a ladle. They took lunch to the empty bar. “Am I really going to turn into a bear?”
“Yep.”
She blew on a spoonful. “That’s it? Just yep?”
“Yep. Eat.”
“I’m scared, Thorn.”
He blew on the entire bowl, and tipped it to his mouth. After he finished in a few swallows, he set it down. “Don’t be. The bear inside you, well, it’s you, a part of you. You’ll like her, and she’ll like you. See, our inner animals work on different levels. They don’t think about things, they act on instinct. You will benefit from this instinct most of the time. I say most, because my inner bear likes to dumpster dive behind fish markets.”
“Will my bear just do what it wants?”
Thorn shook his head. “No, but you’ll let her. Because it’s fun.”
“It’s fun to turn into a bear?”
“It’s the coolest!” Thorn said. “It’s better than an amusement park. You get to understand the woods just by the smell. You can run free—and really fast, by the way—and really experience things on a level that most people will never understand.”
Sally ate some soup. “You make it sound pretty good. Except I showed up naked at your house.”
“You need to start talking to your bear. She’s new, and she doesn’t understand the world. Once you start talking, you’ll find that the animal is only another part of you, of Sally. It’ll take some time, but you’ll get the hang of it.” Thorn gazed back at the kitchen, thinking about another bowl.
Sally held up the silver fetish. “This keeps me from changing?”
“Yep. When the moon is full, you’ll change anyway. It’s your first one, so I’ll hang out with you. In the meanwhile, the way you talk to your bear is to just sit quietly, close your eyes, and call to her.”
“Like meditating?”
“I have no fucking idea. But okay, sure. Like meditating.”
***
Outside Le Cheval Blanc, Felicity felt like throwing her fists in the air and shouting “
Yes!” But she was a cat shifter, and cat shifters were cool. And then she set her case on the sidewalk, threw her fists in the air and shouted “Yes!”
On her way to the car, she pulled out her cell phone. She had to let Barry know the good news. Felicity saw she had ten unanswered calls and six voicemails. They were all from the same number. Oscar León.
What now?
Felicity wanted to call the office first, but from the volume of calls, Oscar was desperate to get a hold of her. She hopped in her car and dialed his number.
“Mi Tesoro, you are a tough one to find.”
Felicity had the feeling her moment of triumph was about to slip away. “What’s so important, Oscar?”
“The case you hired me for, frankly, did not feel right. Instinct put me back on the hunt.”
“I have everything I need, thanks. I told you the matter was closed.”
“Sí, sí, but I was compelled to make further inquiries. We did not follow where the evidence led us. Instead, we shoehorned it into a theory that best fit. However, I consulted an old friend, one familiar with los osos, the bears. He confirmed a suspicion I had. Much like us cats, bears never kill their young over territory. There is only one reason for infanticide, and that is pasíon.”
Passion. Felicity sat very still. The idea formed in her head, yet she could not voice it.
“Given that information, I made a few calls. Law enforcement in the part of Alaska where the bear attack occurred is spread very thin. Resources are limited. While there was an autopsy performed, the woman who died protecting the boy was identified through the documents in her possession. They had no reason to pursue the matter further, only to find relatives of the boy.”
“What are you saying, Oscar?”
“It seemed suspicious, so I dug a little deeper. I managed to obtain the medical records, quite illegally I might add, on the birth of the boy on that wilderness road. Between the autopsy report of the bear attack victim and the information about the boy’s mother, there is no doubt. These were two different women.”
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