Page 11 of Deadly Panther's Fake Fiancée

I shake my head and kiss her cheek. “Mmmmm, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Always.”

The valet takes the car and we step inside. My parents are instantly obvious. They’re more elegantly dressed than anyone in the place. This might be a step up from our town, and a very expensive restaurant for this area, but it’s still small potatoes next to old money back in Europe.

I take Katrina’s hand and put it on my arm. We give each other a look, switch to matching smiles and head to the table.

My mother looks up and immediately the claws are out. “My goodness, how very shiny.”

Katrina sits down in the chair I pull out for her. “My Tom Ford was being mended.”

I manage to choke back my laugh.

My father snares me with a look. “We are going to be clear about this. We are only going to entertain this fantasy so far, son.”

And so, the fun begins.

Chapter Eight

Katrina

I probably shouldn’t get angry but I do. We’re at a fancy restaurant, and I can’t pretend that it doesn’t feel good to get dressed up like this. On the other hand, I’m tired of these two trying to control their son. They just won’t stop. I know I shouldn’t speak because when I watch Isaac, I can see that his intention is just to suffer through it until they leave. He plans on just enduring it and that’s that.

On the other hand, I’m not going to have to actually be their daughter-in-law. That gives me some freedom, I think.

“The two of you are the most insufferable parents I have ever met,” I say. “Your son is not your property and he’s not your pet.”

“This is none of your concern,” his mother says.

“Why is that?” I ask. “Why is it that anyone else who has an opinion doesn’t matter to you? You have any idea how many lives your son has saved? Do you even know what he does? I mean, you know the word firefighter but do you understandthat? Do you know what it means for someone to rely on you because if they don’t, they’ll die?”

“Of course I do!”

I roll my eyes. “You do not. I mean, is this some sort of panther thing? You think that people rely on you or they’ll die? People may rely on you but it’s not life and death.”

They both look at me in shock and I look at Isaac. He has a faintly amused look on his face. I look back at them and say, “Of course I know about you guys. Isaac and I aren’t just a dalliance no matter how much you wish we were. We’re serious, and you need to get used to the idea. But that isn’t relevant at all to something far more important.”

“She’s right, Mom and Dad,” Isaac says.

“An outsider can’t possibly know what’s right in this?—”

I interrupt his mother. “You need to stop treating him like he has no choices of his own. Shifters are announced to the world, not hidden. You don’t need to manage every aspect of his life to protect him. Real threats, yes. You should protect him from real threats. Him making his own decisions and loving whoever he wants to love isn’t one of them!”

Okay, I’m about to start screaming. So, I stand up and say, “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a hot dog stand a few blocks from here, and I’m going there so I can enjoy a nice meal.” I turn around and start walking, and I guess I feel pretty damned sexy and powerful right now. I mean, I just stood up to rich snots (I’m assuming they’re rich) and then walked away wearing a slinky cocktail dress and behaving like a fucking boss.

At least, that’s how it feels to me. I’ll take it, I can promise you.

As I walk I notice there are women staring at me, and these are the kinds of women I’d never ordinarily hang out with. Diamond earrings. Hairdos that probably cost as much as I spend a week on groceries. The only thing I have to comparewith them is the slinky dress Isaac bought me for this dinner. All of the women are looking at me with admiration, though.

I guess I have to admit that I feel pretty darned affirmed over that. These are women I would probably never spend any time with at all. They don’t run in the same circles as I do, and my circle is known for envying theirs while their circle is known for looking down on mine. I guess I’m just saying that it feels damned good for a girl like me to impress a bunch of rich girls.

So, I get outside floating on air, and it hits me that I really am very hungry. The hot dog stand is real, thankfully. I’m still fuming and, as I march down the street in my heels, and in my head, I continue dressing down his parents like I did in the restaurant.

I get to the hot dog stand and the smell is wonderful. My stomach growls and I laugh out loud at the absurdity of me in a beautiful cocktail dress standing in line for a hot dog, hopefully slathered in chili and cheese.

I get up to the front and give my order. “One chili dog.”

“Make that two, please.”

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