Page 12 of The President

“He knows. I think he’s always wanted to say something like that, though,” I admit.

“Well, once you’ve moved into the clubhouse and settled into our den, they can both stay here,” he says. “That way, there’ll be another layer of protection for your shop besides the alarm itself.”

I think over what he said and agree with him wholeheartedly. “That’s true and then I won’t worry about Angie being on her own in a strange place.”

“Who knows? Maybe she’ll meet her mate in Zephyr Hills,” he adds.

“I think she feels that her mate doesn’t exist,” I tell him. “Because she’s never, not once, even had a sense that there’s one out there for her.”

“But you did,” he says, peering into my eyes.

“Her story’s not mine to share, Fox, but suffice it to say, it’s worse than mine,” I forewarn. Whereas mates don’t technically keep secrets from one another, there’s a code between best friends and those bonds are tethered to our hearts and my mate is going to have to understand that I can’t—I won’t, betray her trust.

“They’ll both be welcomed, Vivi. They may not be part of the club, but Zephyr Hills is open to all shifters who need a place to call home,” he replies. “Plus, I know she’s your best friend and having seen how Tressa and Nini are with each other, I get you keeping her secrets. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you. Now, do you have time to take a break?”

I think about what else I have going on today and realize now’s as good a time as any to close the shop and hit the grocery store for some things I know that my dad and bestie prefer to eat and drink. “I can actually close down since I don’t have anyone scheduled to come by to pick anything up. While I do have people walk in off the street, a lot of what I do is word of mouth, especially in our community, since Western medicine doesn’t really work on shifters all that well. I do need to hit the store though, because Dad likes a certain kind of beer, and Angie likes a particular brand of green tea.”

My nose wrinkles at that because if I’m going to drink tea, I’m going to drinkhottea, and it’ll be one with curative benefits depending on what’s going on with me. Not only that, but it’ll be a blend that I create, not one that’s been bought at a store. I already have several jars with my personalized favorites in my cupboard upstairs and I make a mental note that I need to take them with me to the clubhouse.

“Then, I’ll keep an eye on the front here and pray no one comes in wanting wart remover or some shit while you go grab your purse and whatever else you need,” he states.

I start giggling as I ask, “Wart remover? Is that the best you’ve got?”

“Babe, I have no clue what any of the stuff you have in here does,” he replies. “But I’m pretty sure you’ve probably got something along those lines, right?”

Snickering, I walk to the shelf, crouch down and pull out a dark-colored jar that has a crushed root poultice inside and then hand it to him. “You’d want them to buy this,” I tell him, grinning. “They would apply it twice a day, after bathing and drying the area thoroughly, of course. Plus, the poultice has to be kept in a cool, dark place.”

“Good to know,” he deadpans, handing the jar back to me. “Hurry, Vivi, before someone walks inside, please?”

His plaintive tone has me giggling all the way through the back of the shop and up the stairs, where I quickly change into jeans, a T-shirt, and my sneakers. No sense being all dressed up since I’m done working for the day. My sign does have an emergency number that the shifter community can call if something alarming comes up, but no one has availed themselves of it yet. I know as my name gets out there and the community becomes aware that I’m now within their midst, that might change, but for now, it works for me. I need to see if I can have Fox give my number to the local shifter doctor so they have it in the event they’re looking for something specific that I might carry.

“Peppermint ice cream?” he asks as I add a gallon to the overflowing cart. “Is that for you, Angie, or your dad?”

“All three of us, actually. If you add a chocolate drizzle and whipped cream, it becomes an awesome, wintry sundae,” I advise, as I toss in some waffle bowls.

He shakes his head, smirking at me. “It looks like you’ve got more junk food than actual stuff for meals,” he says.

“I have that food at the house already. This is for the extra stuff while we catch up on everything that’s happened.”

“Good to know. I’ll be sure to put this stuff on our list at the clubhouse so you’re able to enjoy it there as well.”

“Thank you,” I reply, smiling up at him. “I usually cook from scratch because that’s how I was taught, plus overly processed food seems to affect me sometimes. It’s just safer for me that way if that makes any sense.”

“No, I get it. The girls were humans before they were mated, of course, so we’ve grown used to a variety of foods at the clubhouse. Nonna tries to make sure we have a well-balanced menu, but now that both of them are expecting, we also have corn dogs and fucking Bugles of all things.”

I snicker and ask, “Do they put them on the ends of their fingers and pretend they have witch nails?”

“Not you too,” he mumbles. “Is that something all women do?”

“It’s fun, Fox. Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

Chapter Seven

Vivienne

He continues giving me shit as we go up and down the aisles, with me tossing stuff in the buggy that I know the two of them will want, as well as a few things I might as well imbibe in too. We have a brief, somewhat heated discussion at the checkout when he holds out his debit card while I’m pulling out my wallet.

“Fox, you don’t need to pay for this!” I hiss, since there are several humans in the line, along with two shifters. Not that the humans know that, of course. Still, I’m sure the shifters can hear every word I utter which has me trying to temper my response.

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