Page 27 of Lucifer's Hounds

“Yes ma’am, can I help you?”

“Yes, your company is the one that’s working on the remodel at Creek’s, correct?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. How is it any of your concern? And why?” he asks, his words harsh and without emotion. I pause for a moment, trying not to take his lack of a personality personal. I don’t know why he’s being such a dick, all I did was ask a question.

“Is there a manager here I can speak with?” I ask, masking my frustration.

The man behind the counter laughs. “Of course there is, would you like me to get him for you?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

He crosses his arms on the desk in front of him. “How can I help you?”

If I were a cartoon character, you would see the steam blasting from both of my ears. Hearing voices coming from the door at the end of the hallway that runs next to the counter, I glance back at the asshole behind the counter. I bet I could make it to the end of that hallway before he can get out from behind there. I break into a sprint and race for the door at the end of the hallway.

“Hey! You can’t go back there!” He yells, but I am through the door, and it closes before he makes it around the counter.

The shop in the back is loud and there are machines and grease in every direction I look. My eyes scan the room for any sign of engineering before I conclude that this is most certainlynotthe engineering department. The door swings open behind me and the big, bearded man grabs me by the arm.

“Lady, what the hell are you trying to accomplish?” He asks, trying to pull me back to the front of the building.

“You wouldn’t give me an answer when I was up there trying to talk to you. I already told you what I’m looking for.”

“Well, now you have my undivided attention. How can I be of assistance?” he asks.

“I need to get in touch with a Caine Sonnier.”

“For what?”

“I’m one of his bartenders and there is a problem with the blueprints. I need to speak with him about them,” I say, hoping I sound convincing.

“Here, let’s discuss this in the conference room,” he directs me to a door down the hall.

To my surprise, when the door opens, I see Cass sitting at the long table in the center of the room. Eight rolling chairs are positioned around the mahogany table and there’s one small window that has a purple and gold flag hanging over it as the curtain. Cass sits at the head of the table in blue jeans that are covered in grease stains and a plain black T-shirt. His hands are grease-stained and there are random grease spots on his cheek and one on his nose. It’s clear he’s hands-on here and it is makingmewant to be hands-on.

I try to focus. This isn’t what I’m here for. I’m angry, I remind myself. I need to calm the thoughts of tearing his clothes off, but my mind disagrees.

Cass smiles when he spots me standing in the doorway.

“She’s a persistent woman, brother. I think you’ve got a good employee.”

“No doubt about that, brother,” Cass says as he dismisses him.

I take the seat at the opposite end of the table without any invitation from Cass. Not that I needed one. I’m here to get answers and I don’t really care what he thinks about it.

“You look like you’re feeling better,” Cass says with a smirk.

“You’re an asshole, for the record.”

“Is this where you want to be when Jesus comes back? Calling me an asshole? It’s nice to see you too, beautiful.” Cass smiles the smile that makes my stomach do flips.

“Abso-fuckin-lutely.”

“You tracked me down, Miss Summers. Are you part hound dog? I figure everyone from Livingston Parish is part something.” His words didn’t have an edge to them, and the playful glimmer in his eyes makes me smile without my own permission.

“No, you don’t get to make me smile or laugh or even think about being the least bit happy for that matter. I’m mad at you. Why the fuck do you play Houdini and disappear all the time? Why? What makes you think you can be so rude to people? Who the hell are you to go around hurting feelings, and then fixing them and then hurting them all over again? What the fuck is your problem?” All thoughts of ripping Cass’s clothes off have faded as I let my emotions run rampant and anger rises to the surface. I stand from the table and begin walking toward Cass, continuing my rant.

“I know I made you wait for a few hours, but you made me wait for a solid fucking week, one in which I got absolutely no sleep because all I could think of was some gorgeous asshole that stood me up. Why would you walk away from me like that?Youwere the one that wrote that stupid fucking note on a napkin and wanted to spend time with me and get to know me better! You didn’t even take enough time to get to know me. So, I’m here because I need to know when you’re going to be at the bar so thatI can make damn sure I’m not there. I can’t even look at you, mister ‘I-Disappear-Whenever-The-Fuck-I-Want’.”

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