Page 12 of Shifters in the Night

She didn’t believe him … but pressing further would only irritate him and derail the rest of her day and maybe even the construction project. (And possibly the weather patterns of Louisiana, who knew?) So she would have to watch and wait and pretend everything was proceeding as it should.

Because that was a super-normal way to live one’s professional life.

“Well, there was no misunderstanding how the mayor felt about the building design. The locals want something a little more suited to the area’s aesthetic,” Lia said.

Victor yawned widely. “Ugh, people and their opinions. Boring.”

She nodded sharply. “Right. All you care about is that the building is completed on time and those people are happy when you leave town. And it’s my job to make that happen with as little bother to you as possible. Why don’t you just let me handle the design aspects with Steven? That’s the sort of back-and-forth you always find so tedious. Just let me do my job, Victor.”

He smiled fondly at her. “Far be it from me to stand in the way of your brilliance.”

Even with her misgivings, Lia felt a tiny zing of glee as she exited his office. She was actually ahead of schedule in getting him to hand the reins of the project over to her. It normally took weeks before he became so bored with details and late nights that he retreated to his office under the guise of planning their next project. She wasn’t even sure why Victor insisted on accompanying her to the sites other than his reluctance to admit that she was the one who ran things. But no job was perfect.

“Send Jeff in when you leave. I have some errands for him,” Victor said, clicking on his laptop. She rose, smiling to herself.

“And Lia?” Victor called.

She paused by the door.

“Remember that as much as you may like the Mayor and Mr. Lancaster, you work for me. You’re here to protect my interests, not those of Mystic Bayou or any other location where we build. Sometimes, I think you forget that.”

She smiled without actually showing her teeth. “Of course, Victor.”

She walked into the lobby, where Jeff shot her an apologetic look. “I did warn you about the carbs.”

4

JON

He’d forgotten how damned loud it felt to eat in a restaurant without the distraction of another person.

Jon sat at the worn table at Bathtilda’s, picking at a piece of apple streusel pie. He’d occasionally met Will here for lunch over the last few months, but this was the first time he’d eaten there alone in a long while. Will tended to spend his Sundays with Sonja doing … whatever cohabitating couples do on weekends. It probably involved errands or naked things he didn’t want to picture.

Without the distraction of his brother’s chatter, Jon couldn’t help but notice how conversation and the clinking of silverware on plates seemed to echo from other tables. It felt like too much distraction to properly enjoy Siobhan’s pastry creations. And he didn’t want to be seen by the cranky brownie not fully enjoying her kitchen magic. People had been kicked out of Bathtilda’s for less.

Even stranger, Jon recognized very few faces among the dining room crowd, the groups spread across the ancient emerald green vinyl booth seats under a matching pressed tin ceiling. There were people standing in line to gawk at the mouthwatering pies displayed under mismatched glass domes. He couldn’t remember seeing that before. It was all starting to feel like too much; the crowd, the new people. He couldn’t help but think that some of those people standing in line were giving him resentful looks for taking up a four-top by himself. He hadn’t even thought about it. His family always sat at this booth when they visited Bathtilda’s. It was these newcomers that didn’t understand the protocol.

For a moment, he considering scarfing down the rest of his pie and leaving. This was definitely too much all at once. He wasn’t ready, and he couldn’t properly appreciate his meal like this. And then Lia Doe walked in, all backlit by the afternoon sun, and he was frozen to his seat.

Somehow, she looked even better in jeans and some pretty lavender silky blouse thing than she did in her gray power suit. This was her, softer and relaxed, like the suit was armor she had to wear to protect herself. She scanned the dining room and for a moment, she looked pained. He’d seen Cordelia make the same face when she was in a crowd, something about all the emotional vibrations smacking into Cordelia’s psychic brain.

What was that about, he wondered. Did she have some sort of extra gift on top of being able to shift? That seemed a little unfair. She was already so smart and put-together and funny. And, oh shit, she was looking right at him.

Jon shrank back in the seat, practically whacking his head against the gold-veined wall mirror. Somehow, she spotted him across the room. Her face brightened with her mega-watt smile and he was frozen all over again.

Was this always going to be the way with Lia? With him too distracted by thoughts of her to actually finish a task? When she smiled at him like that, he wasn’t sure he minded.

“Between this and the frozen lasagna, I’m becoming concerned whether you know how to cook,” she said, glancing down at his plate.

“I do,” he swore, holding up his hands. “But my brother’s doing this whole peer pressure thing where he’s trying to get me to come into town more.

“Why don’t you come into town very often?” she asked, sliding into the seat across from him. “Do you mind if I join you? I probably should have asked first.”

“Long story.” He made a weird half-focused gesture with his hand, which he couldn’t seem to control right now. “And please, make yourself comfortable. You look real nice today.”

She glanced down. “You’ve seen me in dressier clothes.”

“Yeah, those were just fine, but this is you,” he told her. “You look like yourself.”

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