by Cara Adams
“What kind of scientist are you, Willow?” asked Eilidh.
“I’m very boring I’m afraid. I majored in organic chemistry and worked for a while in genetics, but it’s much too controversial a field so I changed over to soils. Now I test fields so farmers know what ingredients they need to add to make their crops healthier and produce more.”
“I’d call that useful, rather than boring. What about you, Hawthorne?”
“Almost exactly the same thing, only I work for a company that does DNA testing. All those men who don’t trust their wives, and women whose partners refuse to pay child support. It can be a very angry industry. I’ve been looking to move out for a while but haven’t found another job yet.”
“No wonder you’re so close. Your interests are very similar.” Eilidh swiped the door to the professional suites open then swiped her card again to open the elevator door.
Willow noticed that Eilidh didn’t step into the elevator until the glass doors into the foyer had locked behind them.
Hawthorne smiled at the nurse. “You know, Eilidh, almost everyone says I must lack imagination and just copied my sister, studying the same subjects and same courses as she did. But truly, it’s all that ever interested me. There was never anything else I wanted to do. We’ve both always been science nerds.”
“You know those puzzle books people buy to keep children quietly occupied? We both did all the logic and math questions and ignored the coloring pages. If we were utterly bored we’d complete the dot-to-dots, or find the hidden items in the pictures, but we never colored them in,” Willow told her.
Eilidh laughed. “I expect your parents were pleased they never came home and found you drawing on the walls then.”
“We did build a volcano in the backyard one year. It worked really well. They weren’t very happy about that,” Willow remembered. Eilidh laughed and so did she and Hawthorne.
Willow put the coffeepot on for them and Hawthorne rummaged in the refrigerator pulling out some snacks.
“What do you both plan to do when you can go home?” Eilidh asked.
“We need to talk about it some more, but I think likely we’ll sell our home and move somewhere new. Maybe somewhere warmer. Although not where there are tornados,” said Willow.
“Or earthquakes,” added Hawthorne.
“I think that leaves you with a coastal sliver of Texas and the toe of Florida to choose from,” said the nurse.
They all laughed again as they nibbled on the snacks and drank their coffee. But it wasn’t really funny. Willow didn’t have the faintest idea how they could evade Bailey. Really, they just had to hope he would lose interest in Hawthorne. Perhaps if he found a new girlfriend he would forget about them.
“Bailey’s really a bit old to still be dating young women. Surely he’ll get married and settle down soon,” Willow said.
“I’ve been thinking about that, too. You know, we never…you know. I’ve been wondering if he’s actually gay, but not ready to come out yet,” said Hawthorne.
“Why wouldn’t he come out? There’s no stigma about being gay these days,” Willow argued.
“There is stigma in some places. What’s his job? You said he was an important person, Hawthorne, but important how?”
“You know it’s strange. We dated on and off for several months but I don’t even know the name of the company he owns. He never referred to it by name as far as I can recall. He used to say, ‘my company’ with pride, but never its name or even where it was. It used to take him a while to travel there, so it wasn’t in our town. It must have been farther away.”
They rinsed their mugs and plates, then Eilidh checked the door was securely locked and went into the smaller bedroom, leaving the larger one for Willow and Hawthorne, the same as the previous night. Each bedroom had its own bathroom, so the apartment was actually designed for two separate lots of people to share it if needed.
“Are you saddened by how Bailey’s acted to you?” she asked Hawthorne.
“No. I was never in love with him. I think I’m angry more than anything, that he’s caused our entire life to be disrupted. But I’m also angry with myself for telling him about the wolf. I should have recognized how self-centered he is.” Hawthorne sighed. “It’s okay. I never loved him,” she repeated.
Willow hugged her. “We’ll work it out. And we’ll find somewhere nice to live as well.”
As she snuggled into her bed she thought right here would be a nice place to live. The people in the mall had been so kind and helpful. She liked Eilidh, and Helena, and the man who’d chosen groceries for them, and the security guard lady, and Rhion and Cadfael. Especially Rhion and Cadfael. Hell yes. Two hunkier men she’d never seen. They’re probably both married with a dozen kids.
Chapter Four
Instead of thinking about suppliers, contractors, staff, and spreadsheets, Cadfael found himself worrying about two attractive young women, now with hair dyed brown, and their troubles. He made a mental note to follow up on the research about Bailey Hamilton and tried to put the entire situation out of his mind. However, Willow’s pretty face kept imprinting itself over his computer screen. So much so that he started to wonder if she really was his mate. Could fate have actually brought his mate right to his door and dropped her in his lap? It seemed too strange to be true.
Everyone said Karma was a bitch. She had to be teasing him. But that didn’t stop him trying to work out how soon he and Rhion could invite Willow up to his apartment for dinner. Maybe if he also invited Hawthorne that would be more appropriate. Of course it’d mean he couldn’t even touch her, far less kiss her, but likely that was a sensible thing on a first date. Would it even be a date?
Cadfael’s cooking skills were extremely limited. He’d never actually starve, but that was only because he was smart enough to keep a supply of ready-to-microwave meals in his freezer, that he bought in bulk from the various snack bars in the food court. On the rare occasions when he needed to invite someone to eat with him privately, he got Sam from the steakhouse on the fourth level, to send around a meal for the appropriate number of guests on a food trolley and they ate in the conference room on level six.
But for a date he’d rather they ate in his own apartment. Which would mean cleaning it, setting the table, buying flowers, checking he had enough crockery…
Instead of the hassle of all the preparations putting him off the idea, he found himself scribbling a list. Housekeeping to clean his apartment thoroughly. Sam’s Steakhouse to set the table and provide all the crockery and cutlery as well as supplying the food. There were two florists on the lowest level. He’d order flowers from both of them.
He’d need to check there was nothing visible in his apartment the women ought not see. He wasn’t used to inviting anyone except his closest friends into his private space. He didn’t even have a password on his home desktop computer, although he did on the one in his office, in case anyone tried to snoop at things he didn’t want them to know.
But nothing deterred Cadfael. The more objections he thought of, the more he found simple solutions to them. In less time than he’d ever imagined he had a neat to-do list.
“Rhion, are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Sure am. Which restaurant?”
“I’ll let you know when it’s organized.”
“So, do I wear business clothes?”
Cadfael smiled. “Probably.”
He liked the thought of keeping his friend guessing. He wasn’t trying to be enigmatic. He just didn’t want to open himself to ridicule in case his plan fell apart. Now, who should he contact next? The cleaners, Sam’s Steakhouse, or the women? The housekeeping crew. It might take them quite a while and even if the women weren’t free until tomorrow he’d need his apartment cleaned before they arrived anyway.
It wasn’t until he went to phone Willow that he remembered he didn’t have her cell phone number. Or Hawthorne’s. So he spoke to Eilidh instead. “What’s Willow’s cell number, Eilidh, p
lease?” She rattled it off and he thanked her, before punching the numbers into his cell.
Willow’s voice was cold and blank as she answered. “Yes?”
He realized that an unknown number contacting her might have scared her.
“It’s Cadfael Hanson, Willow. I hope I didn’t frighten you. I asked Eilidh for your cell phone number. I was hoping you and Hawthorne would have dinner with Rhion and me tonight.”
“Dinner? Oh. Thank you. We’d like that. You mean here, at the mall?”
Again, he realized she was worried about being seen.
“I was planning to ask Sam’s Steakhouse to send the meal up to my apartment. That way your privacy will be maintained.”
“I hadn’t realized you had an apartment here. But I guess as the manager you need to be on hand to sort out any problems. Hawthorne and I would like to dine with you and Rhion, thank you. What time should we arrive?”
“Seven?”
“We’ll be ready.”
Cadfael had a big cheesy grin on his face as he clicked off the call. I have a date with Willow tonight.
He didn’t understand why he was so excited. He’d dated dozens of women over the years. He was thirty-five, not seventeen. But this seemed special to him. The start of something exciting. Maybe she would indeed be his and Rhion’s mate. At least after tonight he’d be one step closer to finding out.
* * * *
Rhion was standing in front of the huge windows looking out over the city, in Cadfael’s top-floor apartment. He was almost in a state of shock. He couldn’t ever recall Cadfael inviting anyone to his apartment before, apart from himself, and a very few of his closest wolf friends. As he’d often teased him, he sometimes wondered if Cadfael even remembered he owned an apartment. He seemed to spend most of his time in his office. Okay, so technically his office was right beside his apartment, but none of the many businessmen coming to the office for appointments would know that, and the vast majority of the Hanson Mall staff wouldn’t know it either.
Hell, likely some of the pack didn’t even know. After all, the pack owned an apartment block in the city itself, where a lot of them lived, especially the ones with families. A casual observer would just assume he lived there, too.
Cadfael’s apartment was big enough for a family to live in. There were two bedrooms, a spacious living area where the dining table had been set up tonight, and a full bathroom. It was connected to his office by a smaller second bathroom, which could be locked from both sides and was, at least as far as Rhion knew, always locked on the apartment side. If Cadfael ever needed to take a shower or change his shirt the apartment was only a dozen paces down the hallway.
Eilidh had texted that she was about to bring Willow and Hawthorne up. That was another thing. Most people didn’t have a keycard to access this floor. Dylan Upjohn, the center manager did, and Sophie the receptionist would borrow it when she had to take someone up for a meeting. If Dylan wasn’t available Rhion usually came down to escort the guests up himself. Even Rhion hadn’t known until just now Eilidh had access. Or maybe Cadfael had just added it to her keycard. She could enter most of the levels as she needed to be able to in case someone was ill.
Almost all the managers had offices on levels five and six and could access both those floors and the conference room, which was on level six. But above level six, access was even more restricted. The senior cleaning team, all werewolves, were the only ones to work on levels seven to ten. Not that there were secrets in the offices, and apartments there precisely, it was more that the wolves valued their privacy and security.
While many humans didn’t believe shape-shifters existed, of those who knew them to be fact, too many either didn’t trust them, or thought them to be an evil to be eradicated. The Hanson Mall wolves had survived for generations by keeping their lives—and therefore their existence—as unknown as possible. This was no longer as easy as it’d been for the past few generations, now that they needed to mate with human women to avoid dying out. It was also why they were working hard to learn what the problem was and how they could solve it. In this task, they were cooperating with several other packs worldwide.
All of which led him back to thoughts of their dinner guests, who were arriving right now. Willow and Hawthorne were both still wearing jeans, but had changed their athletic shoes for boots, and were wearing pretty shirts. He guessed those backpacks of theirs hadn’t included party dresses. Or likely any dresses at all. When a woman was running for her life useful was far more important than pretty. Not that Willow didn’t look pretty in her purple shirt. She did. But to him she’d looked lovely from the start, even when her eyes were darkly shadowed from stress and lack of rest.
While Hawthorne was thanking Eilidh the buzzer rang and Cadfael said, “That’ll be our meal.”
“I’ll go down and get it for you,” said Eilidh.
Rhion went with her. Those food trolleys were heavy and it was easier with two people so one could hold the elevator door for the one pushing the trolley.
Sam himself was waiting at the door to the professional suites, and Rhion was suddenly grateful to this man who was a good friend and a damn hard worker.
“Thanks, Sam.”
“My pleasure. Enjoy your meal, and if you need anything else just call.”
“I’ll push the trolley. You hold the elevator,” he told Eilidh. She did, and repeated the process again at the top floor, then got back on the elevator to return to the guest apartment. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she teased him wickedly.
“That gives me a hell of a lot of choice.”
She waggled her fingers at him as the elevator door shut. He buzzed Cadfael’s door, and Cadfael held it wide open for him, so he kept walking, pushing the trolley over to the dining table. The moment he lifted the metal cover off the tray of food, saliva filled his mouth. The steaks smelled amazing. The aroma filled his senses until he was ready to howl with delight. Instead, he stood politely behind one of the chairs and settled Hawthorne into it, before sitting down himself.
“It seems like we’ve done nothing but eat since we arrived here, and every meal is totally outstanding,” said Willow.
“I agree. I was going to say each meal is nicer than the last one, but that hardly seems fair to the previous meals because they were amazing as well,” added Hawthorne.
Rhion watched them talk, their faces mobile and expressive. Willow kept her hands in her lap, or resting on the table, but Hawthorne tended to wave hers around as she spoke. That was cute, but he preferred Willow’s more contained and quiet mannerisms. They were both very special, but Willow was the one he wanted.
Cadfael lifted four plates with personal chocolate cheesecakes from the lower shelf of the trolley and passed them around. Rhion had remembered to bring his own coffee beans with him this time, and made them all coffee.
“Coffee and chocolate. Life doesn’t get much better than this,” sighed Willow happily.
“How much time off work have you been given? Do we need to call up and get it extended?” asked Rhion. He would have preferred to suggest they leave their jobs altogether, and come live with the pack, but not only wasn’t it his place to make such a suggestion, likely it was too soon to speak anyway.
“I expect my job has disappeared. There’s a man at work who hated that I’d been promoted ahead of him. Likely he’s used my absence to go through my files and tell all the clients to contact him from now on. But, do you know, I don’t think I care. Being forced to run away has made me understand there’s more important things than work,” said Willow.
“It doesn’t stop me feeling guilty though. You left because of me,” said Hawthorne.
“No, I left because I chose to. And you left because Bailey made your life impossible. I don’t regret it at all. We’ll sell the house and start a new life somewhere else. Maybe we’ll even change our names.”
“You could change your last name to Jones. There’s so many of them around that even with an unusual
first name, it’d be better camouflage,” said Rhion.
“Thank you for that idea. Jones would work. Eilidh told us about the rugby players who all had the last name Jones. But we’d have to change our first names as well. They’d make it too easy to find us. There can’t be that many sisters named Willow and Hawthorne around. Maybe we should be Ann and Jane.”
“Mary and Patty,” suggested Hawthorne.
“Cindy and Barbie.” Willow giggled.
The chocolate cheesecake was melt-in-the mouth delicious, but Rhion was more interested in watching Willow. Her movements were restrained and simple, but so graceful. One day soon he wanted to dance with her. He was sure she’d move with confidence and grace. But more important was to encourage them to stay with the pack. He hoped Cadfael had a plan for that because all he could think about was kissing her and he was pretty sure that wouldn’t be smart with her sister standing right beside her.
“I’ve got some people making enquiries about Mr. Hamilton but I couldn’t tell them to rush or that might make people look twice at the request,” he half apologized.
“You’ve been far kinder to us than we have any right to expect. Being able to sleep knowing no one will kick the door down and drag us away is such a relief. At times I wonder if I’ve blown this whole situation out of proportion. If I truly am going mad. Then I remember Bailey’s face as he tried to pull me into his car. It was horrible. He was so—so very angry. And I don’t know why he would be,” said Hawthorne.
“Relax. He can’t get you now. You’re under our protection.” Cadfael’s voice was stern and he exuded an authority he seldom used, that of the Alpha of the pack. His tone of voice told Rhion more clearly than any words could how much he cared for Willow and Hawthorne.
After a few moments’ silence, Hawthorne said, “What kind of businesses are there in this part of the building? Are any of them looking for an office worker, do you know?”
“Is that what you do? Work in an office?” he asked her.
