by Maeve Hart
He narrowed his eyes and studied me.
I continued, “Would you be staying here more in the summer or more in the colder weather? That kind of thing could affect the placement of the furniture and the…” I stopped to take a breath, not sure what I was going to say next.
“To tell you the truth, I haven’t thought it through.”
I didn’t want to irritate him and lose his business. If he didn’t know what he was going to use it for and when, I wasn’t going to push the questions further.
“Are you getting some ideas?” he asked.
I nodded. “I am. I’ve done loft conversions before.”
“Yes, I saw that from your website.”
I asked, “Do you have plans you can email to me with dimensions?”
“Yes, I can get that done when I get back to my laptop.”
“Good. As soon as you get those to me, I can draw up some preliminary ideas.”
“Is that all you need today?”
I nodded.
He reached into his pocket and handed me a set of keys. I took them from him, grateful I had the job. “Thank you, but we haven’t discussed what it’s going to cost or anything.” I was used to competing for business against two or more other designers, and having to pitch a full presentation. This was too easy.
“We’ll talk about that as we go. Isn’t that the way things are done?”
“It can be.” It would be a lot easier if every client were like him. I walked toward the door, not wanting to leave. There was something about his presence that made me want to stay with him. He seemed gentle and protective at the same time.
“Well, thank you.” I put out my hand for him to shake.
“Just a moment.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “That’s five. That should be enough to start you off.”
My jaw dropped open. “Oh, I usually take a deposit after the plans are approved.”
“I like to pay as I go.”
“Okay.” I nodded. That was more than fine with me. I placed the thick wad of money busting out of the envelope into my bag. Was it five hundred or five thousand? By the look of the thickness, it seemed like it was five thousand. When I shook his hand, his warm touch sent tingles through me. I had to get away from him and fast. “Thank you,” I mumbled again before I turned and hurried out the door.
Once I was out on the street, I took stock of all that had happened. My heart was still racing. I had to find somewhere to sit down and absorb the fact I’d just landed a huge contract. Designing an apartment for a man like Jacques Hunter would lead to many more jobs from people with money. It’d raise my profile. To steady my nerves, I expelled a deep breath.
A neon sign further down the street that read ‘coffee’ caught my eye. That sounded good, and I was hopeful they’d have food as well. I was famished.
When I sat down at the table in the café, I wondered what Don would have to say about my new client. I knew my need for Don’s approval wasn’t healthy, but it was there nonetheless. Perhaps it stemmed from my father issues. I’d only met him once, but if he had found me worthy, he would’ve visited again. I wondered where he was and what became of him. That was something I couldn’t ask my mother. A long time ago I’d asked her about him and she cried for nearly two hours. There was something unsettling about seeing my mother cry and I didn’t want to put either of us through that again.
“Ready to order?”
I looked up to see a young waitress. They keep getting younger, I’m sure. What was she, twelve? “Yes, I’ll have a long black, and…” I picked up the menu. “Bacon and eggs.”
She nodded and took the menu from me.
My mind drifted to my new rich client. What was Jacques’ agenda? Sure, I was good at what I did, but how was he to know that before he’d looked at my website? Generally, I’d direct a client to my website after I’d gotten a lead or a referral from someone.
My phone gave a sound telling me I’d received an email. I took it out of my bag, wondering if it might be Don apologizing. I stared at the email. It was from Jacques Hunter. That was quick! I expected to see he’d sent me the plans, but the message title was ‘Hello.’
I clicked on the body of the email to see if the plans were attached. There were no attachments—only the words, ‘Mind if I join you?’
I frowned and looked around. He was standing just inside the door smiling at me. I smiled back and nodded. This wasn’t going to be good. I was already attracted to the man, and I was engaged to someone else. Why did I always manage to find ways to upset Don?
The waitress came back and said to Jacques, “The usual?”
“That’ll be fine,” he replied.
When the waitress left, I asked, “Have you been here before?”
“Yes, I always have bacon and eggs, and black coffee.”
“That’s what I ordered,” I blurted out.
He chuckled. “Shouldn’t you be with your fiancé the day after you announce your nuptials?”
“Possibly.” I nodded and looked down.
My phone rang. It was on the table in front of me, and I could see plainly from the caller ID it was Don. So too could Jacques if he could read upside down.
“Answer it. Don’t mind me.”
I looked up at him and then looked down at the phone again. This could go one of two ways. Don would be apologetic and nice, or he would be brutal and unfriendly and expect me to apologize to him. I wondered if I should answer it. I picked up the phone and turned slightly away from the table. “Hello?”
“Where the hell are you?” Donald demanded.
“I’m with a client right now.” I looked back at Jacques and gave a smile.
“Is that right?”
This wasn’t good. I clicked the volume button a few times so Jacques wouldn’t hear how horrid Don could be.
Don continued, “I was mortally embarrassed and humiliated my fiancée was flirting with my boss last night. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“Um, can it wait until tonight?”
“You don’t usually see clients on a Sunday.”
I lowered my voice. “I am today. Now I’ll have to go. I’m sitting here with the client right now.” I never should’ve taken his call.
“Tell me where you are right now,” Don demanded.
“I’ll talk to you tonight, Donald.”
“I’m going to need some answers.”
I ended the call, turned my phone off and stuffed it into my bag. I looked up at Jacques embarrassed, hoping he hadn’t heard the other end of the conversation. “I’m sorry about the interruption.”
“Don?”
I nodded.
“Destiny, I need to tell you I can’t shake this feeling there’s something familiar about you. I’d like to know what it is about you I find so appealing, apart from the obvious.” His eyes swept up and down me.
I couldn’t stop from smiling. It was strange he found me attractive; not only was I bigger than most girls, but this man could have any woman he wanted—and often. I found the attentiveness overwhelming and I was lapping it up.
“What can you tell me about yourself?” he asked.
“What exactly would you like to know? You’ve already looked on my website, so you know a fair bit about me already. And you know I’m engaged to Don.”
He smiled. “I don’t know anything personal about you. Your likes or dislikes. Tell me about your family.”
Hysterical laughter rang inside my head. The last thing I’d want someone like him to know was anything about my family. My mother had me when she was eighteen, I never knew my father, and I come from a family of witches. End of story! What I said instead of that were some carefully chosen words. “Well, there’s not much to tell. I’ve been designing for the last ten years. I worked for someone else, and two years ago I started my own business. And what about yourself? I’m not entirely sure what your firm does. I know Donald’s part of the sales team, but that’s all I know about his job.�
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“Yes, and a valued member he is, too. He’s our top salesman.”
Donald had always told me how good he was at his job, but I never knew whether it was true or not.
“I would tell you about my firm, but it’s not interesting, believe me. I think our first date should be interesting, don’t you?” He reached across and held my hand.
I should’ve pulled it away but I couldn’t. All I did was giggle like a schoolgirl while I enjoyed how my hand felt in his. He mesmerized me—the liquid tones of his soft voice, his strong jawline, his straight nose.
Gently, he pulled my hand up and lowered his face. I was certain he was going to kiss my hand, but instead, he sniffed it. There was something about the way he did it that was more sensuous than a kiss. He placed it back on the table and I pulled it away. “Why did you do that?”
“Tell me, are you related to Esmeralda Stephens?
I gasped. How did my grandmother know a man like him? “You know my grandmother?”
“She’s your grandmother?”
The waitress bringing our coffees interrupted us. “The food won’t be long,” she said.
“How do you know my grandmother?” I asked again once the waitress left.
“By reputation.”
I pulled my coffee closer to look down into it. If Jacques knew my grandmother by reputation, he would know she was a witch. Donald thought my grandmother was just eccentric—half the time so did I. He didn’t believe in witchcraft, but I’d seen Granny’s spells work.
“And what reputation is that?” I looked up at him.
“Professionally.”
“Professionally?”
“Her profession as a sorcerer.”
I had to laugh at his choice of words and the serious expression on his face. “So you know she’s a witch then?”
“Yes, I do. Now tell me about you. When did you change?”
“I’ve never been a witch. My grandmother says I could be, but I’ve never been interested.”
He shook his head. “That’s not what I meant, Destiny.”
I stared into his eyes, loving the way he said my name.
“When did you become a shifter?”
I sprang to my feet and toppled my chair over. “Did my grandmother put you up to this?” Was this all a joke? He wasn’t attracted to me, I didn’t just land a huge account, and Granny knew I dropped her shifter remains on the floor. That was the only explanation!
He stood too. “No one sent me, Destiny. Please sit down.” He reached over and comforted me by putting his hand softly on my shoulder.
For some reason, I believed him. He picked up my chair and held my arm while I sat back down.
When he sat opposite, he continued, “I’ve never met your grandmother. I can tell you’ve gone through the change, even if you don’t know you have.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you weren’t aware of it. It must only just have happened.”
The change? All I knew as ‘the change’ was the menopause my Aunt Flora complained of all the time, but I presumed that was not what he meant. “Please tell me what you’re talking about.”
He took my hand again and sniffed it. “It’s not the red pack.”
I pulled my hand away. He was starting to frighten me with his talk of sorcery and shifters. Why did he know about such things?
He leaned close. “Have you blacked out lately? Do you have a heightened sense of smell and hearing? Has your appetite increased?”
“Yes, all those things. Well, not the hearing or the smell, but I’ve been hungry.” But then again, I’d always been hungry. I put my head in my hands. “This has got to be a dream.”
“When did these things start?”
I stared into his eyes. He seemed to believe everything he’d just said. He was serious about this. I needed to talk to someone, but I couldn’t tell Abbie and neither could I tell any of my family. I sucked in a deep breath and began my confession. “I was poking around my grandmother’s things, in her spell room. She’s always told the story about killing some old shifter wolf or something. I never really believed the story, and anyway, she said his remains—”
Jacques nearly choked on the mouthful of food he was swallowing. He took a gulp of coffee and covered his mouth with his hand. Eventually, he was able to speak. “What did you just say?”
“You didn’t hear what I said?” I was too scared to repeat it even though I hadn’t finished what I was saying.
“She openly admits to it?”
I nodded, suddenly regretting that I’d mentioned it. Good sense prevailed. “You don’t believe it do you? I mean, it’s got to be all made up nonsense.”
He shook his head. “It’s not nonsense, Destiny. You’ve recently turned. You’re a shifter.”
I whispered, “Are you telling me I’m a shifter—like a werewolf?”
He nodded again. “I could smell it on you the first time we met.”
“Smell what? Don’t answer that,” I said. “I think I’d know if I was a shifter. I mean, that’s nonsense—how could I be? I don’t even believe in them.”
“Did you get bitten?”
“No, not at all.”
“Did you come into contact with anything that might have belonged to the shifter your grandmother killed?”
I gulped. If he knew that much he might be able to help me get to the bottom of what was happening to me. The unknown force I’d felt watching over me for as long as I could remember made me feel I could trust him. “She had a jar.”
“Of what?”
“She said it contained the remains of the werewolf.” I was a little scared when I said those words out loud.
He opened his mouth in shock. “Did you open it?”
“Well, I did, just to see what was inside. I had no idea what it was at the time. My grandmother told me later.”
“Did you touch any of the contents?”
“Just a little bit, but I noticed I had a cut in my hand. I think I cut myself because there was a chip in the jar.”
“I knew it. You’ve turned, just like I said.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and again wondered if this was all an elaborate plot my grandmother had come up with to teach me a lesson. “Did my grandmother put you up to this?”
“I’ve never met your grandmother. I only know her by reputation. I told you already.”
“How do you know about any of the stuff we’re discussing?”
“I have friends.”
“What can I do to stop the blackouts?”
“Destiny, once you’ve changed, you can’t go back.”
I wanted to laugh; it was so dramatic. It was just like an old movie, like the ones I used to watch with my mother when I was a child.
He continued, “You’ll be like this forever, and I mean forever.”
“You mean I’m a shifter wolf?”
He nodded.
“Do you really believe that?”
“Yes, it’s true.”
I looked down at my untouched food. I cut a piece of bacon and popped it into my mouth.
“Tell me, Destiny, did your grandmother ever mention whether the Alpha wolf told her anything before she killed him?”
I thought back to all the times I’d heard the tale. “No, nothing was mentioned.”
“Nothing at all?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“Did he mention any numbers to her?”
“No. If he did, she didn’t say.”
“I advise you not to tell anybody what’s happened to you, or you’ll end up in one of those jars on the shelves at your grandmother’s house.”
Had I mentioned shelves? I frowned. Had he been there—at Granny’s house? At that moment, I didn’t know if I could trust him.
“Who would believe me anyway, apart from my wacky family?” I said. He smiled. “What will happen if I black out all the time?”
“You’ll soon learn to control it.” He glanced at his watch. “I have to go.” He draine
d the last of his coffee, and after he had flashed me a smile, he left me to finish my breakfast.
Chapter 9
I ate quickly and on the way home in the taxi I steeled myself to face Donald. When I stepped out of the taxi, I noticed Don’s black car parked in the street. My heart beat faster. His car was a constant reminder of an argument we’d had a month ago. Some of the apartments in my building came with a car park but mine didn’t. Don rented a parking space from one of the other tenants who didn’t have a car. After we had a huge fight, he moved out and canceled the car park. When we made up again, the car park was already leased to somebody else. Don was furious about losing the parking spot and, naturally, it was my fault.
I focused on my current problem. That was whether to tell Don who the client was I’d just had a meeting with. If I told him it was his boss, he’d be surer than ever I’d been flirting with him at the engagement party.
Don’t tell him, I decided. By the time I got up the stairs, I had my story straight. A client from out of town had signed me to design their loft apartment. I hated having to lie but it was either that or another argument. I put the key in the lock and turned it. I walked through the bedroom and into the living area and dropped my bag on the table. Don was sitting on the easy chair with one leg propped on the coffee table. In his hand was a glass of what appeared to be gin and tonic—his favorite drink.
“You took your time in getting here,” he said in an accusatory tone before he chugged a mouthful.
I sat on the couch next to him. “I told you I was working with a client.”
“I thought I might have been more important than your job.”
“My job is just as important as yours and you know I haven’t had much work lately. When you have a client you don’t leave them to come and see me.”
“That’s not the point, Destiny. It’s clear we’ve got a problem and it needs to be sorted out as soon as possible.”
He was trying to make a point about something. “What do you mean?”
“Before I pay a lawyer to draw up the prenup. You best get yourself a lawyer, too, to read through it.”
“I don’t need a lawyer.”
He frowned at me. “My lawyer told me you’ll need your own lawyer otherwise you could say no one advised you. If you don’t have a lawyer, you could contest it.”