Page 12 of Seduced By the Werewolves

“What is it, Ms. Dockett?”

I pull my shoulders tight around my neck and clasp my papers to my chest. “The invoices you gave me aren’t matching what we ordered. Are there any missing?”

If looks could kill, I’d be dead and underground.

“There’s nothing missing unless you lost it,” he says, returning to his work pointedly. “Figure it out.”

Great. I’ll need to think of some way to reconcile these on my own. I nod quickly and speed out of his office, back to my desk.

I’m deep in recalculating the numbers when I hear a light knock.

“Hello?”

The door is slightly ajar, and the woman with the slick bun from before is peering inside. She knocks again, and I realize my mind is a blank space.

“I’m so sorry,” I say, getting out of my chair to let her in. But the woman steps inside on her own and flutters a hand at me.

“Stay put. I can open a door. I just didn’t want to surprise you.”

I nod in thanks. “Mr. Bosley’s in his office.”

The woman’s about to stride right past my desk when she stops and tilts her head down to me.

“You look... unwell,” she says, arching an eyebrow.

Is it really that bad? I force a smile onto my face. “I feel fine. I promise, I won’t get you sick or anything.”

“Not like that.” Now the woman is studying me carefully. “Boyfriend problems?”

I blink. “Huh?” How could she possibly know? Not that either of them is my boyfriend, but she’s a little too close to the truth for comfort.

“Well, you have a look on your face like someone’s in the doghouse,” she says, then gestures at my hand. “No wedding ring, though.” She leans against my desk, and I hope Mr. Bosley doesn’t come out and chastise me for chatting up one of his visitors. He hates it when they stop to talk to me. It’s not your job, he always says.

But the woman doesn’t seem to notice my discomfort. “What did this person do to end up on your bad side?” she asks.

I can’t possibly tell a complete stranger what happened last night. The woman has a very stern face, too, that sends a chill up my spine.

“Um...” I wring my hands together. “It’s complicated.”

She sighs and checks her watch. “I have time.”

Maybe I should make something up—but I have the sense this intense person would see through me like I’m a piece of glass.

“I went on a date with this guy,” I finally say, my gaze flicking up to hers and then away again when I see how sharp her eyes are. “And it went really well. But then the next day...” I feel my face flaming already. I don’t want to divulge this information to a complete stranger, but her eyes are burrowing into me like drills. “His brother said he wants to date me, too.”

At this, I finally get a reaction. Both her eyebrows lift ever so slightly, and she uncrosses her stiff arms.

“At the same time?” she asks, still cool and collected.

I nod hurriedly. “I said ‘no,’ of course. It’s too weird.”

“Too weird for whom?” The skeptical look has returned to her face. “For you? Or for society?”

The question takes me by surprise, and I don’t answer for a moment. If I really think about it, what terrifies me most is what my mother would say—how she’d judge me. I couldn’t possibly show up at her house with two boyfriends in tow. She’d eat me alive with just her eyes.

“Society, I guess,” I finally say.

She hmms. “And you’re going to let a broken, dysfunctional culture like ours tell you what to do?”

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