by Haley Weir
“Are you serious? There is no way in hell I’m going to the Ball with you, Tate,” Brisa shouted the next day. His jaw dropped. He’d stopped by at the end of the day when he knew the other workers would be gone, so that they could maybe celebrate after she agreed to go with him. An outright refusal hadn’t even entered his mind as a possibility.
“Why the hell not?” he demanded, furrowing his brow. His angry face intimidated most of his business competitors, but Brisa didn’t seem scared in the least. She stepped toward him and poked him in the chest. His gut twisted in admiration. The woman was perfect.
“You come in here and demand that I accompany you to the Ball, and what? I’m supposed to just swoon? Who do you think you are?” Her eyes had narrowed to dangerous green slits. Tate swallowed, suddenly realizing that his plan was in danger. Unsure of how to proceed, he tried reason with her.
“You’re not going with someone else, are you?” he asked more calmly.
“That’s none of your business,” she said, throwing her hands up and walking away. “And that is not the point. You can’t order someone to socialize with you.”
“But if you’re not going with someone else…” he stopped cold when that green glare swung back toward him.
“You’re not listening to me,” Brisa said in frustration.
“No, you’re not listening to me, you stubborn woman!” Tate knew, as the words came out, that he should have just kept his mouth shut. But he was powerless to stop his word vomit.
“Get out,” she said, her voice deadly calm.
“Brisa, be reasonable,” Tate began, realizing too late that these words were another mistake.
“Out!” she shouted, pointing toward the door.
“I’ll talk to you about this tomorrow, when you’ve calmed down,” he said as he passed, hurrying when he saw her pick up a stapler as if contemplating the idea of chucking it at him. He wasn’t sure what had gone wrong, but he was determined to change her mind. He just needed to figure out how.
She fumed when he was gone, dropping into her seat. He’d acted as if her agreeing to go with him was a foregone conclusion, like she should be honored to be seen out in public with him. His arrogance was astonishing. It wasn’t even that she didn’t want to go with him. In fact, the idea of spending the evening in his arms was more appealing than she wanted to admit. But the alpha male, superiority complex bullshit had to stop. He couldn’t keep ordering her around, especially when it had nothing to do with the clinic. If he wanted to dance with her, he would need to ask her. Politely.
Unfortunately, she was pretty sure he’d missed the point of her anger. He was going to come back in tomorrow and start telling her what to do all over again. That’s what he had done with the clinic, and it was apparently how he handled his personal life. No wonder he was single.
Brisa looked at her watch and sighed. If she didn’t get going, she’d be here all night. There was no use giving the man any more thought, she decided. She shrugged her shoulders, trying to let out the tension that had built up inside of her. She focused on finishing up her work for the day so that she could go home, have a glass of wine, and not think about Tate Little.
When she got to work the next morning, Tate was waiting outside the door. “I want to take a look through your books,” he said.
“Again?” she asked suspiciously. “You went through everything when you bought into the clinic.”
“I’m just checking up on my investment,” he said. “Making sure you’re operating with maximum efficiency.”
“Why do you care so much?” she asked, unlocking the door.
“By increasing efficiency, we free up capital for us and for the clinic. I think we can afford to bring in a second vet, which will make the clinic more profitable, and allows us to take care of more animals. It’s win-win for everyone,” he followed her into her office as he talked.
That actually made sense, Brisa admitted to herself. Still, she didn’t want him messing with her system and making the clinic a less pleasant to work. It would break her heart to let any of her co-workers go because of Tate’s heavy-handed administration. She logged him into her computer, pointing out the accounting software she used. She grabbed her lab coat and tablet, logging in to check her schedule as Tate examined something on the computer screen.
“Have you thought about the Ball?” he asked.
“You mean the Ball you ordered me to attend with you?” she asked sarcastically. “Nope.”
“I need you there with me,” he insisted, looking away from the computer. “And...I want you there with me.”
“Why is this so important to you?” she asked.
“Brisa, you’re beautiful,” he began, and she softened slightly. “Everyone likes you. They respect the business you’ve built here.”
“Which you’re trying to change,” she snapped. “This is about your ‘commercial development’, and the town council, doesn’t it?”
“If they see us together, they’ll take me seriously,” he answered harshly. “I need their approval to move forward with the commercial development on Main.” He stopped, realizing what he’d said. She started for the door, and he stood, moving toward her. “Wait, Brisa,” he said.
She stopped, shaking her head. “It all makes sense now,” she said. “I thought this was just about wringing as much money out of the clinic as you could, or maybe getting into my pants, but that’s not enough for you, is it? And to think that I thought you were actually interested in me!” She laughed bitterly.
“Brisa, just listen. I—”
She held up her hand. “Dr. Weber.”
“What?” he asked.
“You can call me Dr. Weber.” Her face was cold, with none of the gentle warmth that usually radiated off of her.
“I am interested in you,” he reached for her, but she stepped away.
“That’s enough,” she said. “I’ve had enough. Don’t forget to log out and let Ellison know when you’re finished. I have work to do.” She turned and left. Tate fell back into her chair, rubbing his face in frustration. How had that fallen apart so quickly?
Tate pretended to work for another ten minutes before logging off. He found Ellison, a volunteer from the Humane Society that helped out at the vet clinic when they were short staffed, and let her know that he was leaving. Waving goodbye to the pretty blonde, he headed into the woods for a run. He needed to figure out how to fix this before he lost his chance with Brisa for good.
That evening, Tate decided to try again. He knew she would still be at work doing inventory, and if nothing else, he could insist on helping her. She would get work done faster, and he would know that she was safe. He hoped starting with an apology would at least get her talking to him again.
He arrived just before six, when he knew Ellison would be leaving. Elli might be his only chance of getting through the door. Not only did she have control, but she was also a good friend of Brisa’s. Elli was just walking out the door. She immediately shook her head when she saw him.
“She really doesn’t want to see you right now,” Ellison warned. “I’m pretty sure she’s done with you. Maybe you should go on home and leave her alone.”
“I can’t do that,” Tate said. “I need to apologize.”
“Yes, you do,” she agreed. “But tonight’s not the night. You pissed her off, and you really hurt her feelings. Do you really not know how to talk to a woman?”
“Ellison, I’m going in there with or without your blessing. I’d rather not make an enemy of you here,” Tate said. “Let me through. She’ll be fine.”
Elli shrugged and moved out of the way. “Lock the door behind you,” she said with a sigh. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she muttered as she walked toward her car.
“Thanks, Elli,” Tate called after her. She waved her hand without looking back. He locked the door behind him and made his way toward the storage room. He glanced in Brisa’s office as he passed to make sure she wasn’t there, and then used his
key to get into the storage room. He could hear her working in the back of the room, and he walked past two rows of shelves before reaching her. She didn’t look up or acknowledge him, so he cleared his throat.
“I’m busy, Mr. Little,” Brisa said coolly. “If you’re here to insult me with more demands, could it wait until tomorrow?”
He put his hand on hers to get her full attention. She snatched it back as if burned. “Brisa, please…”
“Dr. Weber,” she corrected him.
He sighed. “Fine. Dr. Weber. I need to apologize for my behavior this morning. I was wrong to be so forceful and demanding, and I wasn’t asking you to the Ball just because it would help me professionally. I want you to come with me because I want to spend time with you.”
Brisa’s eyes were empty. She said, “Thank you for the apology,” and went back to work.
“Is that it?” Tate asked, frustrated. She kept working, ignoring him. “Brisa!” he said in exasperation.
She finally looked up at him. “Mr. Little, I know your primary concern is the profitability of your businesses. As you know, talking when I should be working is a misuse of time. I would like to finish this up so that I can go home at some point this evening. So, unless you have something else to say—”
She was interrupted by a loud crash from the front of the building. “What the—” Tate said, starting toward the door. Brisa followed closely, the sound of breaking glass reverberating down the hall. Tate opened the door cautiously, and whispered to Brisa, “Wait here.”
“Like hell,” she muttered, and locked the door behind her, following Tate. They heard heavy, booted footsteps as they approached the lobby. Tate paused at the end of the hall, stopping Brisa with a hand. He peaked around the corner to see a gruff-looking middle-aged man leaning against the wall, grinning at him.
“Hey, there,” the man said in a deep, raspy voice. “Sorry to interrupt your little rendezvous with the doc, but I need some supplies.”
Tate took a threatening step forward, but the man had a rifle raised, cocked, and pointed at Tate’s chest before his foot hit the ground. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the man said, and Tate stopped short. “Come on out here, doc,” the man said, never taking his eyes off of Tate.
Brisa stepped around Tate, her eyes turning fierce as they locked on to the man. “There she is,” the man said with a smile.
“I told you before, you’re not getting any of my supplies,” Brisa said angrily.
“You’ve met this guy before?” Tate asked in surprise.
“He’s a wolf hunter,” she said. “He’s been after my stun guns and tranqs for months.”
“Wolves are a protected species.” Tate’s blue eyes turned to ice as he spoke. “Hunting them is illegal.”
“Wolves are vermin, and are a threat to my livestock,” the man snapped. “I have every right to protect my herd.”
“Protecting your herd is not the same as hunting innocent animals,” Brisa reasoned. The man shifted his gun toward her.
“Just give me what I want, doc, and we can all be on our way.”
“No.” Brisa’s response was quick and definite. The hunter stared at her for a few moments, and let out a bark of a laugh.
“I guess we’re at an impasse, then,” he said. “Let’s all have a seat in your office. There are too many windows out here. We might be seen.”
Brisa glanced past the man and was relieved to see that the damage was contained to the door area, and wouldn’t take long to repair. She turned and stalked back toward her office. Tate glared at the hunter until the man nodded toward the office. He turned to follow Brisa, who they found sitting at her desk, hands folded. Tate dragged a chair around to the side of the room and dropped into it. He wanted to stay between Brisa and the hunter. He entered the office, holding his rifle across his chest, and sat in the third chair.
“What’s it going to take to convince you to give me what I need?” he asked.
“I’m not giving you anything,” she said stubbornly.
“I don’t want to hurt you, ma’am,” he said. “But I will. You need to understand that.”
Tate cleared his throat. “What’s your name?” he asked the hunter.
“What difference does that make?” the man responded. “You think I’m gonna tell you my name so that you can send the police after me the second I walk out of here?”
“Fine,” Tate said. “I’m going to call you Frank. Is that ok?” The man lifted his chin in agreement. “Good. I’m Tate, and this is Brisa,” he said.
“I know who you are,” Frank said. “Juvenile delinquent makes good, buys up half the town and thinks he owns the rest. You’ve been sniffing around after the doc here for weeks, and that empty property on Main for even longer.”
Tate’s cheeks colored slightly. He cleared his throat before speaking. “Well, Frank, I’m hoping to find a way out of this without any of us getting hurt.”
“Talk to your woman, then,” Frank nodded at Brisa.
“I’m not his woman,” Brisa seethed.
Frank laughed. “Trouble in paradise?” he asked, turning his attention back to Tate.
Tate ignored him. “Brisa, maybe you should just give him the supplies.”
“Dr. Weber,” she corrected. “And maybe you should mind your own business.”
“I’m pretty sure the fact that I’m being held at gunpoint makes it my business,” Tate pointed out. “Let’s get out of this safely. Insurance will cover the loss.”
“I’m not going to be a part of helping him hunt down a protected species. Have you ever seen a wolf? There’s a reason Native Americans revered them. They’re beautiful, intelligent creatures that are just trying to survive. Have you ever seen what a non-fatal gunshot does to flesh?” She looked at Tate expectantly. He dropped his eyes without responding. “I’ve patched up two injured wolves already this year, thanks to people like him. I’m not giving him anything.” She closed her mouth. The decision was final.
Tate’s heart was racing at her defense of, and clear respect for, wolves. He wondered, as he studied her clenched jaw and jutted-out chin, if she might be someone he could trust with his secret. He flashed back to the way she’d taken care of him in his wolf form.
Her refusal to negotiate with the hunter was frustrating, but Tate knew that if he shifted, he could take out the hunter quickly. He could save them both. He just wasn’t sure how Brisa would react to seeing him shift, and learning that he was the white wolf that Brisa remembered so fondly.
He met her determined gaze and willed her to recognize him. For a moment, he thought she had received the message, but her expression turned confused. She looked away, chewing her lip thoughtfully.
They sat quietly for a few minutes contemplating the best way to move forward. Tate realized if he wanted to save Brisa, he would have to trust her. “Frank, I have a key to the storage room,” he said finally. “I’ll let you in.”
“Tate, no!” Brisa said. She looked devastated. Tate gave her an apologetic look, and hoped that his plan would save them and convince Brisa to give him a chance.
“Let’s go,” Frank stood, keeping the gun leveled at Brisa. Tate led the way down the hall, with Brisa behind him, and Frank taking the rear. Tate opened the door and they filed in, walking to the back of the room.
“I think this is where the sedatives are kept,” he said, nodding at a shelf. Frank pushed past both of them and started reading the labels. He pulled a plastic bag out of his pocket and began loading it with bottles from the shelves. When Frank was fully preoccupied, Tate began undressing. With an apologetic look at Brisa, he began to shift, howling and leaping with full force at Frank. His momentum slammed the man into the shelf, and the blow to his head knocked him unconscious. He collapsed to the floor, and Tate moved back over to his clothes, shifting back and pulling his pants on.
He took a deep breath and turned around, uncertain of how Brisa might be reacting. He didn’t expect to see her on her knees, diggi
ng determinedly through a box of office supplies. “What are you doing?” he asked tentatively.
“Looking for something to restrain him with. Get his gun away from him while I look for…” she pulled a roll of packing tape out of the box and lifted it into the air triumphantly. “This,” she grinned, standing and walking over. “Make yourself useful, Little, and hold his hands together.”
“Make myself useful?” he said in disbelief. “In case you didn’t notice, I’m the one who knocked him out.”
“I noticed,” she said, crouching down to wind the tape around Frank’s wrists several times before bending her head to tear the tape with her teeth. Standing again, she glanced over at Tate. “Put your shirt on,” she said, tossing the tape back into the box.
“Distracted?” he asked, grinning as he bent down to pick up his shirt. “The buttons are gone,” he told her.
“Still, put it on,” she said.
“What are we going to tell the police?” Tate asked, shrugging into the shirt. He rolled the sleeves a few times so that he didn’t have to button the cuffs. He noticed Brisa’s eyes following his movements and suppressed his grin.
“We tell the truth,” Brisa said simply. “He broke in and held us hostage, wanting supplies. You pushed him when he was distracted, and then we restrained him.”
“That’s it?” Tate asked cautiously.
“What? You think they need to know more than that?” She raised her eyebrows.
“No, I’m just…surprised. You’re taking this better than I would have expected.” Tate watched Brisa walk to the back of the room, where she’d been working. She pulled her phone off of one of the shelves.
“I mean, I’ve never met a…what are you? A werewolf?” She looked expectantly at him.
“No! Werewolves aren’t real, as far as I know.” Tate said. Brisa rolled her eyes incredulously. “I’m a wolf shifter. I can shift whenever I want. The moon has nothing to do with it.”