I don’t know.

  I have no answers.

  So, I’m staring at my phone, and I’m hoping that somehow, he’ll find me.

  It’s stupid.

  Danielle, my assistant, seems to think I’m being totally ridiculous, and I hate to admit that she’s probably correct, at least this time.

  “You’re Cassidy,” she says. “Queen of the Real Estate Empire. You don’t need this guy, okay? You definitely don’t need to be doing this,” she motions at me. “Thing. Whatever this thing is.”

  “I know you’re right,” I drop the phone. It’s a little pathetic to sit around waiting for a guy I’ve only met once. There will be other people, other meetings, other dates. Besides, I can find someone else for Alastair’s wedding. It doesn’t have to be Matthew, but I kind of want it to be. Besides, he’s already going to the wedding. How strange would it be to suggest that we go together? Would he be cool with that? Or would that be totally awkward and inappropriate?

  “Of course, I’m right,” Danielle points out. She loves to be right. It’s one of the things that makes her an incredible assistant. Whenever I have a problem or issue, she helps me get it under control, and quickly.

  “I should go,” I finally say. “I have a meeting with Alastair, like, right now.”

  I stand up and start to gather my papers.

  “It’s pointless,” she says in a sing-song voice.

  “I know.”

  “Then why do you keep trying? You practically run this company, you know.”

  I would never say that out loud, but Danielle’s observation is fairly precise. I do a lot for our organization that Alastair doesn’t see. In fact, most of my job consists of doing things he never needs to know about. Ideally, he’ll never realize exactly how much work I put into running the company. Alastair is a kind-hearted man at his core, but is dad is a real dick.

  If his father realized that the majority of the company was run by a girl?

  Well, there would be hell to pay, and I’m not in the mood to do any spending.

  My uncle knows that Melanie and Alastair launched Cambridge Real Estate as a couple, but as far as he’s concerned, it’s my cousin’s organization. Melanie handles a lot of the website and database stuff, whereas Alastair is the face of the company. He’s the one people go to when they want to make a sale or buy a home. Melanie is the one who makes sure the paperwork is in order, the website is fantastic, and that everything constantly stays as up-to-date as possible.

  I’m annoyed with my cousin, but there’s no time to sit around feeling frustrated or upset. It’s time for our appointment, so I decide to head over to Alastair’s office. It’s past time for me to talk with him again about our next steps. There’s a huge meeting in a few weeks that’s basically going to decide the future of the company. Besides, we have to announce to our corporate team how we’re going to play things with the changes happening in Lyon County.

  The reality is that Ridge Construction is moving in whether we like it or not. They’re buying, selling, and renting out properties throughout the town, and there’s a lot of room for growth with them.

  Are we going to harness that growth and hop on board by offering services to multiple types of shifters? Are we going to expand our offerings as a company? Or are we going to buckle down and pretend that the only thing that really matters is traditionalism?

  Are we going to pretend that we only care about clinging to the past?

  Danielle sees the determination spread on my face and she smiles.

  “That’s my girl.”

  “I don’t know what the hell I’m doing sometimes,” I grumble, gathering documents from my desk.

  “Nobody does,” she shrugs. “But that’s not really a big deal, is it?”

  “What do you mean?” It seems like a huge deal.

  “It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing. It matters that you’re trying.”

  “Tell that to a surgeon,” I say, and she laughs.

  “Okay, so maybe this advice doesn’t apply to other fields,” Danielle says. “But in the world of shifter-run real estate, you don’t have to have all of the answers. This is a big company, Cassidy. Yeah, you’re an incredible part of that, but there are other people, too. What do they think? What changes do they want? It’s not just about the buyers, you know.”

  “You’re right, and that’s a good point. If the other employees want to grow and expand, maybe Alastair will consider that when he’s finalizing his decisions.”

  “You’re going to have to get this all by his old man,” she points out.

  “Maybe. It’s Alastair’s company,” she says.

  “That’s...debatable.”

  The reality is that Alastair is the owner of the company. Well, co-owner. He and Melanie launched this organization after college and have grown it, showing the world time and time again just what they’re made of. My uncle hasn’t played nearly as big of a role as he likes to think he has. If you asked him, he’d probably say that he and Alastair launched the company together.

  What would Melanie think about that?

  The reality doesn’t seem to dissuade my uncle from causing trouble at every turn, though, and something deep inside of me worries that at some point, my darling Uncle Jacob is going to make a move that none of us are expecting. Then it’s going to be too late for our little company. He’s got his claws in places where they ought not to be, and my cousin is much too blind to see it.

  Today isn’t the time for projecting my fears, though. Just because my parents suck doesn’t mean Alastair’s do. Oh, I’m pretty sure my uncle is a terrible person, but today’s meeting isn’t about my uncle. It’s not even about the future. It’s about right now. It’s about how the choices we make today are going to make or break the company.

  It’s about how Alastair has the power to change the world if he’s willing to.

  “Look,” Danielle says. “It’s up to you, Cassidy. Me and the other administrators are totally behind you. We’re completely behind you,” she emphasizes. “But Alastair isn’t going to listen to us. This is on you. You have to stand up for us. You have to make our voices heard.”

  I cock my head, looking at my assistant. She’s more than an assistant. I would consider her a friend. We aren’t particularly close, but we’ve spent so much time together that we know each other better than most colleagues know one another.

  “Danielle, what kind of shifter are you?” Suddenly, I want to know.

  “Haven’t you guessed?” She smiles. Then she slips her jacket off and closes her eyes. For just a moment, she’s surrounded by a shimmer of light and then two bright, beautiful wings emerge from her shoulder blades. They expand, spreading wide, and I gasp at their beauty.

  “Fae,” I whisper.

  “Don’t tell anyone,” she says, letting her wings spread wider for just a moment. Then they slowly, quietly move back into her skin.

  “I had no idea. I always thought you were a tiger.”

  She shrugs.

  “No, really, I thought you were a tiger.”

  “Good,” she says. “Then I keep my secrets well.”

  She does, which is strange since living in a small town tends to mean that everyone is constantly in other peoples’ business. I’m happy that she trusted me enough to tell me.

  I’ll count this moment as a win in my book.

  “I’m going to go now,” I say. I give her a quick hug, kiss her on the cheek, and leave my office. As I walk down the hall, I keep my head down. What the hell is going on around here, anyway? What’s with the growing animosity towards other kinds of shifters? We already have so many of our own problems. Why add more by fighting amongst ourselves? In my mind, all shifters are on the same team. We’re all working toward the same goal: a world where shifters can be free.

  Apparently, that’s not actually the case.

  I scurry down the hall to Alastair’s office and as I do, I walk past a man with a familiar scent. I pause, turning to glance at Matthew as he scurries by. He’s tall and lean and looks exactly the same – if not better – than he did the other day.

  What the hell?

  What is he doing here?

  He’s obviously not looking for me because he didn’t even stop when he saw me.

  Doesn’t he scent me?

  Doesn’t notice that I’m here?

  Perhaps more importantly, why is he even at Alastair’s in the first place? Obviously, they were having some sort of meeting. I wasn’t informed, which isn’t unusual in and of itself, but when Alastair has meetings with important people, it’s pretty much always on the calendar. His schedule for this morning is totally and completely blank, which means that Matthew’s visit was something personal that Alastair didn’t want on the schedule.

  But why not?

  What could have been so bad that it had to be a secret?

  And why wouldn’t my boss tell me?

  I push open the door to Alastair’s office and walk inside.

  “I told you that I’m done talking,” he says without turning around.

  “Really? Because in my book, we’re just getting started.”

  “Oh, Cassidy,” he whirls around. “I thought you were someone else.”

  “Yes, I noticed.” I raise an eyebrow, letting him silently know that I saw Matthew in here and that I want answers. More than anything else, I want answers. Also, Alastair knows me well enough to know that I’m quite tenacious when I want to be. I’m not the kind of girl who’s going to back down. Nope. Once I get my sights set on something, I stay focused on it. I’m like a tiger with a bone, I suppose.

  He pales.

  “I can explain.”

  Apparently, his meeting with Matthew was something he really doesn’t want anyone to know about: even me. I have no idea who Matthew is to Alastair or why their meeting is so hush-hush, but I know my boss well enough to know that I need to act like I do know. That’s going to be the fastest way to get information from him right now.

  “Please,” I say, motioning toward his desk.

  He sits, sighs, and drops his head in his hands. It’s not often that I see my cousin looking so utterly forlorn. What the hell? What’s got him so down in the dumps?

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning?”

  “The beginning started a long time ago,” he says.

  “Okay.”

  “We were friends. Not just friends, Cass. We were best friends.”

  “I know what that’s like.”

  “Not like this,” he says. “I never liked Matthew as more than a friend. Don’t get me wrong. It’s just that our relationship was very close. We were like brothers in every sense of the word.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “A girl.”

  “Isn’t that what always happens?”

  “Not like this. This was a deep betrayal I didn’t think I’d ever get over.”

  “You’re having meetings now, though. Obviously, you got over it, at least a little.”

  “I’m not so sure.”

  “Why not?”

  “He wants something I’m not prepared to give.”

  Okay, this talking-in-code stuff is getting a little old. So apparently, Matthew and my cousin were friends long ago and now Matthew wants something from him.

  Then it hits me.

  I am so dumb.

  The puzzle pieces all click into place, suddenly, and I realize that I’ve been totally out of the loop.

  “Wait a minute,” I sit up straight. “He’s the friend you were talking about before, the one who owns Ridge Construction.”

  “Yeah,” Alastair nods sadly. “He wants us to collaborate on a new project.”

  “The community growth project.”

  “Yep.”

  “And you don’t want to.”

  “It’s complicated, Cass.”

  “Well, your schedule is empty, so I’m pretty sure we’ve got all fucking day, cousin, but you’d better start talking because right now it kind of just seems like you’re being a pretentious dick.”

  He looks up at me sharply.

  “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “No, you’re right,” he agrees. “And the reality is that it’s time for me to start standing up for myself. It’s just that the wedding is so close and things with my dad are so complicated.”

  “How are they complicated?”

  “Dad doesn’t want me to have anything to do with Ridge Construction.”

  “Because he hates everything,” I roll my eyes. “Dude, your dad’s a joke. We all know this. He might be the mayor of this town, but that’s the extent of his power, Alastair. He doesn’t own your company. You do.”

  “Well, he’s threatening to cut me out of his will if I continue working on any sort of relationship with Ridge Construction.” He says the words flatly, as if that explains everything, and as though he has no choice in what happens next.

  I stare at my cousin, blinking.

  “So?”

  That’s it?

  This is about money?

  What the hell?

  I thought better of Alastair. Besides, doesn’t he have enough money as it is?

  “What do you mean, so?”

  “I mean, what the hell? You’re going to go back on your morals because your dad is threatening you with some cash?”

  “It’s not just some cash, Cass. It’s a lot of money. I’m getting married soon, and Melanie and I could really use that.”

  I cock my head, looking at him.

  “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “What? Nothing.”

  “No, no, no, there’s something.”

  Because the story doesn’t add up. Why would my uncle threaten to cut Alastair out of the will? Why would my uncle hate the fact that Alastair wants more animals to come to town? Why would anyone even consider trying to prohibit other shifters from being comfortable here?

  “He’s dying,” I say.

  The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Once again, I’m realizing something I probably should have known or recognized long ago. It all makes sense now, but I suppose I was too busy with work to notice. Besides, my uncle and I are not close, nor have we ever been.

  “That’s why you’re getting married so fast. You want him to see the wedding.”

  “Don’t tell anyone,” Alastair says, using, once again, a phrase I’m quickly growing to hate.

  “Like who? Do you really think I’m going to go running my mouth all over town that my uncle is sick?” I shake my head. “Alastair, I get that you want to give a dying man his greatest wish, no matter how selfish that wish might be, but this is wrong.”

  “You don’t understand. You don’t even like your parents.”

  “Low blow,” I say, pointing out the obvious. “But you’re right. I don’t. My parents are shitty people, just like your dad, but you know what the difference between us is, Alastair?”

  He looks at me.

  “I walked away. I had the guts to tell my parents to fuck off. I had enough of their bullshit, and I walked. You could do the same thing, cousin. You wouldn’t lose a damn thing, but you’d gain the whole fucking world. All you have to do is be brave.”

  I shake my head and walk toward the door. I reach it and pause for just a second because I think that perhaps, just maybe, Alastair is going to say something to me. Maybe he’s going to realize that I’m completely right and that his dad really is a horrible person. Maybe he’s going to come to the understanding that this time, he can take a stand.

  He can do this.

  Alastair isn’t a bad person.

  He’s not meanspirited.

  He’s not evil.

  He doesn’t have the dark, jaded soul that so many people have.

  But he has something else holding him back: fear.

  I wait in the doorway, but my cousin says nothing, and I walk through the door without a backwards glance.

  Chapter 8

  Matthew

  “Whiskey. Neat.”

  “Rough day?” The bartender asks. It’s the same one from the other night: the night I met Miss Fox.

  The night I met the tiger.

  “You don’t want to know.”

  She brings me the drink and I slam it down and motion for another, which I instantly down. When I start to ask for a third, she holds her hand up.

  “Why don’t you take it easy there, champ? You’ve got all night. Give it ten, and then I’ll give you another.”

  I shouldn’t thank her, but I do. She’s not my mom, but I do get the feeling that the bartender is used to looking after shifters who come wandering in here. Maybe that’s what I need right now. I might not like it, but maybe having someone to care about me is going to help me in the long run.

  The problem is that right now, everything is pretty fucking shitty. I had a bad meeting with Alastair and a bad week at work. The projects we’re working on are all taking a lot longer than any of us could have possibly anticipated. I wanted the Westside apartments done by now, but there’s yet another delay with the zoning committee. I find it really hard to stomach the idea that there’s a problem with the building plans. I’m pretty sure – no, I’m entirely sure – it’s actually because the committee is overseen by Jacob, Alastair’s father, and he would rather choke on his own saliva than admit the community needs growth or change or both.

  Fuck.

  The bartender walks by and I raise an eyebrow, silently asking permission to have another drink. She sees me and laughs, but she pours me another one and sets it on the counter.

  “What’s the trouble, kid?”

  “I’m not a kid, and you’re not older than me,” I point out. In fact, I’d bet the bartender is no more than 27 or 28 years old. She’s young enough to be wild, but old enough to know better.

  “True,” she laughs. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t know a thing or two about love, and you, my friend, are in trouble.”