Page 8 of Howling Night

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “We filled that position two weeks ago.”

I cocked my head, looking at the empty space behind the desk. “I see. Looks like that’s going well.”

At least he was playing along instead of getting in my face and confronting me about snooping on his private conversation. He felt it was better to just lie to get me to leave.

“The teenager I hired hasn’t shown up for the last three shifts,” he said, running his hand through his brown hair. “It would be an understatement to say it’s not going as well as I’d hoped.”

I waved my hand. “Sorry, I bothered you. It’s just that I’m new to town and am looking for work.”

“Really?” he said, stuffing a rag into his back pocket. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Ryder Black, the owner of this company, and I’d be glad to take down your information. What are your qualifications?”

“With all due respect, are you seriously concerned I won’t be as qualified as the teenager you hired?” I asked, raising a brow.

“Sorry,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “It’s a habit to ask.”

I waved a hand in the air as if brushing away his words. “It’s fine. I was a Senior Marketing Director at one of Chicago’s top luxury real estate firms.”

“Uh,” Ryder said, his eyes narrowing. “So just barely qualified then.”

I laughed as I looked around the small office. “Yeah, I used to sell perfect lives to the fabulously wealthy. Looks like that’s what you do here, too.”

“I certainly can’t match that kind of sal?—”

“Oh, no,” I said, shaking my head. “I wasn’t thinking I’d earn… I mean, it’s just… I’m looking for something… else.”

Ryder blinked twice before moving back behind the desk. He pulled open a drawer and extracted a single sheet of paper.

“I don’t know if I’m going to hire someone new or not, but you’re welcome to fill this out,” Ryder said, handing me the form. “It’s not like we get a lot of applicants.”

I took the paper, giving it a quick once-over. The application was simple, clearly designed for someone not too serious about their career.

“Thanks,” I said, folding it carefully and slipping it into my purse. “I appreciate it.”

He nodded, crossing his arms over his chest. The sawdust on his forearms caught the light streaming in from the window, making him look almost ethereal for a moment. The image didn’t match the hard man I’d seen the other night.

“You don’t happen to know of anywhere else that might be hiring, do you?” I asked, folding the paper.

“Not really,” he said, shaking his head. “I’ll let you know if I hear of anything.”

“That’s kind of you,” I said, offering him a professional smile. “Nice meeting you.”

“Have a good day, Ms. Montana,” he said, his voice neutral but his eyes watchful.

“You too, Mr. Black.”

I turned and walked out of the office with what I hoped was casual confidence. As I crossed the gravel parking lot toward my car, the hair on the back of my neck prickled. I didn’t need to turn around to know he was watching me from the window. I could feel his gaze tracking my every move as I got into my car and pulled away from Black’s Construction.

Only when I turned onto the main road did I start breathing normally again. Whatever game Ryder Black was playing, I wasn’t sure I wanted to be part of it. What the hell was the owner of a construction company doing out in the middle of the woods arguing with a twitchy man, anyway?

Never mind!

I didn’t want to know.

Not my business, and I sure as hell didn’t want to involve myself.

I drove directly from the construction office to the small grocery store just off the main road. One good thing about the small town was that it wasn’t hard to find anything.

It was a huge mistake stopping at Black Construction, but if I had known he’d be there, I would have never stepped foot inside. Now, it just seemed to him that I was stalking him.

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