Page 5 of The Claiming of the Shrew
She was aware that she really needed to figure out where Grumpy Stagehand (ooh, her first suspect, he was definitely suspicious) had hidden her luggage, see if she could get her tent set up, and start working on her actual job—helping set up the Peter Pan special effects and props.
But Hester was busy, and she knew Fawkes was staying in the lodge, so Leah went into the lobby while she had the chance.
Between Labor Day and Memorial Day, the lodge was officially closed, but in fact catered to shifters. There were a number of guests in the lobby, mostly people she didn’t recognize, but also a couple of actors from the theater group. Fawkes was nowhere in sight. Trying to look like she knew what she was doing, Leah glanced around for Hester and then went briskly behind the desk, where she reached underneath for the old-fashioned guest ledger.
It was the matter of a few moments to nose quietly through the ledger—that was what Hester got for keeping a guest list on paper instead of the computer. It looked like Fawkes Bridges was staying in, ooh, the honeymoon suite, how interesting. Leah quickly replaced the ledger and then headed off for the woods at a brisk clip to get back to work, already thinking about how exactly a shrew might wriggle under a hotel door the next time this mysterious, suspicious Fawkes guy happened to be out of his room.
FAWKES
“.... you saidwhatto her?”
“Told her she isn’t my mate,” Fawkes said between his teeth. “At least that’s what it sounded like she was starting to say.”
The phone was tucked in the crook of his shoulder while he finished getting his kit together. Outside the window, dusk was purpling the sky and the lights of campsites dotted the woods. He had managed to dodge the mysterious, beautiful woman all afternoon, though he was aware she had been asking questions about him.
Way to keep a low profile.
“So you actually met your mate, or a woman you think is your mate, which some shifters go through their whole lives without experiencing. And then you told her you’re not her mate and fled. Yeah, that sounds like you.”
“I can’t believe I toldyou,” Fawkes muttered. “Except that it’s relevant to the job, and?—”
“And you needed to share your stupidity.” The voice of his partner was suffused with suppressed laughter. “I agree, you definitely did need to share it. I’ll be laughing about this for days.”
“Shut it, Sam.”
Sam shut it, at least long enough for Fawkes to put the phone down and squirm into a black turtleneck. He picked up his phone again. “Still there?”
“Yes, though I was starting to wonder if you were. You’re going out?”
“Yeah. Working.” Fawkes zipped up his mini work kit and put it in his pocket. “In fact, I’m off.”
“Wait, do you want to hear my advice about—Fawkes, dammit?—”
“Can’t hear you, reception’s terrible here.” It was technically true; the call had been breaking up and had already dropped once.
“If she really is your mate, Fawkes, she’s more important than the job or anything else. You know that, right?”
“I’m not completely positive she’s my mate,” Fawkes said. It was true; he didn’t know exactly what it would feel like. How could he? “Why would I have told her she’s not if she is?”
“Because you’re an idiot who plays the suave James Bond card but in fact I have seen you, at a pool party, drop a pineapple full of a tropical drink and tiny umbrellas on your foot just because a pretty woman said hi to you.”
“Okay, first of all, that wasonce, and I was surprised, and it wouldn’t have been as painful if I’d been wearing shoes. Do you know what a pineapple on top of flip-flops feels like?”
“Aren’t you off to sneak into places you’re not supposed to be?”
“Yes,” Fawkes said. “Yes, I am doing that.”
“Check back in when you’re done.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Sam snorted. “This is more to make sure I don’t have to bail you out of jail.”
“You can’t see it, but I’m flipping you off right now.”
Sam laughed and hung up.
Fawkes silenced the phone and then, on second thought, decided to leave it behind. He pulled on black gloves, matching the rest of his all-black sneaking-around ensemble, and went to the door. The lodge had fallen quiet for the evening, now that the last few guests had come and gone from the tail end of the dinner service. After listening for a second against the closed door, he pulled it open.
