by Kyle, Celia
The woman stiffened and then nodded tersely and left them alone in the trailer. The space was set up with a handful of desks for various workers, a small snack station with a coffee maker, and an artist’s renderings of the proposed condos McNish wanted to build in Wolf Woods. They looked pretty much like every other condo ever built—sterile and tightly controlled. Nothing like the lush wildness of the woods.
The putt-putt-putt of a small diesel engine sputtering into the parking lot set Warren’s heart pounding. She’d arrived. Any second now, his mate would walk through the door and the razor’s edge of frustration he’d been tiptoeing along since lunch would level out and give him firmer footing.
He sensed Persia’s tension before she even opened the door. Smiling just a little too brightly, she greeted everyone as she breezed in like nothing troubled her. Warren wasn’t a fashionista, but the outfit she’d changed into looked vintage. Her calf-length flowing floral skirt ended in vibrant pink-and-yellow striped knee-high socks tucked into scuffed brown leather clogs. Her purple peasant blouse offered a delicious peek at her shoulders, and Warren suddenly found himself fantasizing about kissing that creamy, soft neck as far as the fabric would allow. Shaking the image from his head—for the moment—he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at her unique style. Probably not what one would expect from a lawyer, but somehow, she pulled it off flawlessly.
Persia brushed past him, her sweet candy scent filling his nostrils as she ignored him and took a seat near the head of the table. Everyone followed suit, Warren settling directly across from her. He wanted to be close, but not scare her off. He also wanted a good view of her face, not just because it was the loveliest he’d ever seen, but maybe he could pick up clues about what was bothering her if he could watch her expressions.
The trouble was she barely lifted her head from the papers she pulled out of her soft-sided briefcase, almost as if she was avoiding his gaze. The uneasy silence grew more uncomfortable as she shuffled through some files and organized them neatly in front of her. Something was definitely eating at her. He wanted to ask what. He wanted to take her in his arms and comfort her. Tell her that whatever she was nervous about would work out just fine, as long as they were together. But she wasn’t ready. He knew that and hated it.
When she finally lifted her face and graced him with her stunning bi-colored eyes, Warren thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “Zeke and Val tell me this was all your idea.”
All he could manage was a weak nod.
“Well,” she continued, stiffening her back until it was ramrod straight, “good job. This is just the kind of thing that could save Wolf Woods.”
Her tone remained neutral, as if giving him a compliment was the hardest thing for her to do, yet Warren felt as if he’d just won an Academy Award, or even better, a Nobel Peace Prize. Heat flooded his face and he scratched behind his left ear in his discomfort.
“Um, thanks. Just, you know, doing my part.”
Persia laid down the folder she’d been holding and leaned in toward him, her gaze locking onto his and not letting him go. Whatever was going on inside her had nothing—or at least almost nothing—to do with him, that much he could sense from her.
“No, Warren. I really mean it. The plan you put together… It’s good. Really good. You gave us some serious firepower, and you should be proud of yourself.”
The wall in her gaze began crumbling. Brick by brick, the distance she’d put between them fell away, revealing a yearning Warren had hoped for. In her blue right eye, he saw a life of love and laughter lasting until they were old, wrinkled and hobbled. In her brown left eye, he saw the cutest curly-haired pups growing into solid members of the pack and having pups of their own. Emotion burned the backs of his eyes as he searched hers to ensure it was real, but before he could, footsteps sounded on the metal staircase leading to the trailer door.
And the wall slammed back up.
Warren blinked in confusion, not only at the abrupt change, but at the anxiety wafting off her in plumes. But he didn’t have time to puzzle it out. McNish was on his way so he had to bury his troubles, just as she did. When the door opened and McNish strolled in, Persia straightened and returned her eyes to her files.
“Apologies for my tardiness.” He oozed dishonesty and arrogance. He wasn’t the least bit sorry. More than likely, his late arrival had been a deliberate attempt to throw them off their game. To add insult to injury, he didn’t even bother looking at them as he approached the table. He was too engrossed in his phone, or at least he pretended to be.
Glancing up briefly, he found Zeke and tipped his head. The alpha glowered, unable to rein in his hatred for the man who was responsible for nearly killing two members of the Soren pack. Val’s expression remained as stony and impassive as ever, but Warren sensed her rage simmering just under the surface. If the man so much as looked at Zeke the wrong way, she’d be on him like a tiger on an injured wildebeest. McNish barely skimmed past Warren, dismissing him as irrelevant, and then his gaze landed on Persia.
Blinking in surprise, McNish lowered his phone and stared at her while she lifted her chin defiantly and stared right back. Warren had only had a few interactions with the man, but he never would have imagined McNish would ever reveal his true feelings about anything. Yet it didn’t take a mind reader to see McNish’s shock.
“Oh,” McNish half-laughed, half-choked out. “Hi, princess.”
Without missing a beat, Persia spoke the last words Warren ever expected.
“Hi, Daddy.”
Chapter Eight
The tension in the trailer intensified so much Leaf’s favorite potato starch-based spork could have sliced it. Every cell in Persia’s body flipped into defense mode, as her body did so often when confronted with such insane levels of awkwardness. Still, she refused to look away from her father first. Taking a page from his book, she wouldn’t let her true feelings show, no matter how difficult. Not only for the sake of preserving her reputation with her new friends, but also with her father. As twisted as his ethics were, he was shrewd. He knew which buttons of hers to push because he’d installed them when she was just a child. But she hadn’t been his sweet little princess for a very long time.
Looking up at the old man he’d become, Persia didn’t see a doting father. She saw trouble. She saw her enemy. She saw red. The years-long battle between them had yet to be settled and probably never would. They were too different and too similar. Stubborn, headstrong, relentless. They’d stop at nothing to win, but for very different reasons. Persia fought for the betterment of the planet. Her life centered around self-sacrifice while her father was all about sacrificing anyone who got in his way. They were diametrically opposed, standing stubbornly at the two poles, glaring at one another across a courtroom or a construction site or a meeting table, on and on forever. Would it ever end?
Probably not. At least not until one of them died.
Her friends—if they still considered themselves to be—exchanged confused looks. At that moment, they probably thought asking her for help had been a mistake, that she was a double agent or something. Understandable. Their little mountain community seemed really tight-knit with lots of familial ties. They couldn’t possibly understand how Persia could turn her back on her father and become his foe. She’d loved him once upon a time, but he’d left too much destruction in his wake for her to ever respect him again. And not just environmentally.
Persia didn’t need to look around the table to know they were questioning where her loyalties lay. Even as she stared down her own father, their shocked gazes burned her flesh with their suspicions she was a traitor. Or a plant. Some kind of sleeper cell, just waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims. Like father, like daughter. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. A chip off the old block.
Nothing could be further from the truth, but she couldn’t tell them that. Not at that moment. Not with him smirking down at her, as if she were giving some childhood performance no one liked but had to
suffer through to boost the kid’s confidence.
Maybe she should have bailed on the meeting as she’d been so tempted to do. Not because facing Dick McNish scared her—it didn’t. What really scared her was the thought Warren might believe his initial assumption. After researching his proposal, she’d realized how brilliant it really was. It deserved to be presented, not just for the sake of Wolf Woods, but he’d earned the right. Naturally, she fully expected her father to be pissy about it, but maybe the new offer and the evidence regarding the stink beetle might make him do the right thing for once, as unlikely as that might seem.
Dick finally sat at the head of the table and waited. With all eyes trained intently on her, Persia cleared her throat and shuffled the files and paperwork in front of her. She wasn’t there to play around. It wasn’t a family counseling session. She was there to do her damn job. And by god she was going to do it. So, she heaved a deep breath and slid directly into lawyer mode.
“Thank you for taking this meeting with us, Da—” she coughed to cover up her faux pas “—Mr. McNish. We come from opposing sides of the issue, the issue being the future and preservation of local lands, which carry an immense amount of historical, cultural, and environmental value. Not only is the land in question integral to the survival and livelihoods of the local community, but the woods are also home to another creature worthy of preserving: the blue marmorated stink beetle, which is a protected species found only in these woods.”
“The…what?” McNish repeated with a little chortle as he leaned back in his chair. “We’re here to talk about a beetle? Really?”
Persia’s jaw clenched involuntarily as she turned her withering gaze in her father’s direction. “Yes. But it’s not just us who are worried about protecting this threatened species. I’m sure I don’t need to educate you on how our government tends to react regarding the preservation and protection of such species. The courts will almost always side in favor of defending nature, particularly when an endemic species is at risk.”
“Almost always,” he retorted. “Those are your operative words, princess.”
“I’m not your princess,” she shot back, letting her resentment toward her father get the better of her.
Not anymore.
“Hmm, not anymore, it seems.” He echoed her thought. He folded his arms over his chest and glanced around at everyone with mild amusement. “Is that the best you could come up with? I can’t build homes that would bring in jobs and stimulate the local economy because of a bug?”
“Actually, we assumed you wouldn’t be moved by the plight of an endangered species and suddenly halt all construction.” Warren’s voice spilled from his lips like molasses on a hot day. At least that’s the effect it had on her nervous system, soothing her and heating her up at the same time.
“That so?” McNish tilted his head, ignoring Warren and giving her a curious look.
“That’s right,” she continued, flipping through the folder in front of her. “Mr. Edgecomb here came up with an alternate plan for your development—a plan that would benefit both sides equally.”
She slid a stack of photos and paperwork across the table to her father and waited while he scanned them. His brow furrowed, and then his eyes grew wide for a moment before he caught himself.
“What the hell is this, Persia?” he demanded.
“It’s an opportunity. That’s what it is. The property is on the site of an abandoned chicken farm on the other side of town and it’s been on the market for years.”
Dick looked less than impressed. “That’s your big proposal? A smelly, old chicken farm?”
Persia leaned toward her father, no long worrying about keeping up appearances. She had to convince him Warren’s proposal was the best solution for everyone.
“Daddy, listen to me. The city seized the property a few years ago for unpaid taxes. I called them and you could get the land for a tiny fraction of what Wolf Woods will cost. For more land! That has to appeal to you.”
Dick didn’t react, just continued leafing through the papers and photos. That was his favorite stalling strategy, but Persia didn’t want to give him time to think of a way to refuse. If she kept pushing the pros of Warren’s plan, maybe…
“You always talk a big game about building up local communities and economies. This is the perfect chance to do that. Snatch up that land for a song and turn it from an eyesore into something people want to see. Wolf Woods remain wild for tourists and locals, as well as the beetle. Everyone wins. Just look at those photos, Daddy. I know you can see the potential.”
She knew her father better than anyone in the room, yet even Persia couldn’t read his face. The concept was sound, but he had a stubborn streak she’d inherited.
“I’d think by now you’d want a little positive PR, Mr. McNish.” Warren’s warning drew her attention for a moment.
She loved his passion, but her father wouldn’t appreciate being reminded of the bad press he’d been dealing with lately. Strangely, though, he didn’t seem bothered.
“That’s old news, son. People have a short attention span these days. Tomorrow some random celebrity will get pulled over for drunk driving and I’ll be forgotten.”
“You sure about that?” Zeke sneered.
Persia warned him with a silent glance and Val laid a steadying hand on his arm. He needed to reel it back in. There was no use trying to start a fight. Her father would simply walk away if Zeke continued pressing. Then they’d be right back where they’d started.
“Imagine the goodwill and trust you’d earn within the community if you took over that chicken ranch and turned it into something beautiful,” Persia continued. “A beloved landmark would remain for future generations, plus you’d save a ton of money on the land.”
“Sure,” her father admitted, “but it would require more work, which means hiring more people.”
“Perfect,” Val added. “More jobs for the locals equal even more goodwill.”
“And on a more personal level,” Persia said, “you wouldn’t have to deal with my protest group anymore. I’m sure you would jump at the chance to remove that particular thorn from your side.”
“On top of that, you could start building right away,” added Warren.
McNish pursed his lips as he stared at a photo of the ranch, taking it all in with his fingers steepled in front of him. Persia couldn’t help holding her breath as she waited for his next move. For a brief moment, he looked to be actually considering Warren’s proposal. She should have known better.
Leaning back in his chair, he leveled a smug smile at his daughter and gave her a patronizing slow-clap. “Well done, princess. Well done. A for effort.”
Fury and humiliation blazed in her for thinking he might actually consider anything she brought to the table. “This isn’t a school project, Mr. McNish. I don’t want or need your approval. What I do want is an answer to this very serious proposal.”
“Mmm hmm. Of course. Yes. Very serious.”
No one could piss her off like her condescending, cruel dad. Closing the folder with a snap, he slid it across the table as if he couldn’t get it far enough away from him. He cast a complimentary nod at Warren.
“Good effort, but honestly, I like my original plan much better. Really, who wants to live on Gizzard Road or Chickenshit Lane? I know I wouldn’t!”
She’d come into the meeting suspecting he’d blow her off on principle alone, but she still had one more card to play.
“I know something else you won’t want, Mr. McNish. If you don’t give up your plans for Wolf Woods and switch over to the chicken ranch, first thing tomorrow morning I’ll file an injunction against McNish Development Corporation on behalf of the protected blue marmorated stink beetle. That will be a federal judge, Daddy. Not some county or state schlub you can bribe with your dirty money.”
A vein deep in her father’s neck pulsed quickly, barely noticeable on the surface, but she recognized it as his tell. She had him on the ropes. But a
s soon as it appeared, it disappeared, replaced by his more typical smirk as he stood. Reaching over, he patted Persia on the head like she was some kind of well-behaved puppy.
“That’s right, princess. Put that law degree I paid for to work.”
Chapter Nine
Warren felt an overpowering urge to leap on Dick McNish’s back and tear him to shreds as they watched him saunter out of the trailer. Murdering his mate’s father probably wasn’t the best way to convince Persia they’re fated to be together. Besides, the smell of his pack mates’ anger at Persia drew his attention away from the slimeball walking out.
One by one and without a word, they filed out of the trailer, unable to tolerate remaining in the close confines of a trailer filled with McNish’s nasty scent. They were just in time to watch the asshole peel out of the parking lot in his late-model BMW, throwing them a cocky waggle of his fingers out the window.
As soon as he sped out of sight, Val spun on her. “What the ever-loving fuck?”
“I know,” Persia grimaced, as if expecting their wrath and willing to take it.
“What happened to Moonshadow, Ms. McNish?” Zeke growled.
“That’s just my protestor name,” she tried to explain, clearly eager for them to believe her. “No one uses their real names.”
Warren wanted to believe her, but how could he? His wolf insisted she’d never been dishonest, but his human half didn’t agree. It wasn’t as if she’d fibbed about her weight or how fast she could type. This was a major omission, one that shook his very faith in her.
“Fine, but you still should have told us he was your dad,” Val insisted. “Why did you lie?”
“She’s a lawyer, remember?” Zeke snapped, as if that explained everything. Val sniffed in disgust masked as amusement.
“We need to give her a chance to explain herself.” Warren surprised everyone, including himself. He wasn’t defending her exactly. Not yet, anyway. Turning a hard look on her, he demanded, “So explain.”