Page 5 of Shifter For Hire (For Hire 2)

“Hmm.”

“You know it’s true.”

“Alright, fine. I’ll give you that much.”

“Good. And,” Janessa pointed out, “I always make time to see you every time you ask. Plus, I wasn’t the one living over seas for a while.”

“I wasn’t living in Ireland. We were back and forth. God, girl, can you even imagine that Skip has family in Ireland? I’m not a huge fan of the shade of his hair, but my babies will be cute.”

“Preggo yet?”

“Not yet. That’s something I wanted to talk to you about, plus…” Lachelle touched the tip of her tongue to the wound inside her mouth. It was almost healed.

“Plus what?”

“Something else. I’ll talk to you about it when I see you. I might be crazy. After all, Skip is a journalist. He’s bound to be working on stuff he doesn’t want me involved in.”

“Uh-oh, you don’t think he’s cheating, do you? Sweetie, I’m sorry.”

“No, I don’t think so, but maybe.” She shook her head. “He’d be nuts to cheat. Like I don’t take care of him. Hello? Cheating doesn’t compute.”

Janessa burst out laughing. “You are the most confident woman on the planet—or the most delusional.”

“Shush!”

Her sister continued to tease her and then sobered. “I think we should talk. I’ve been dancing around something too, and it’s time we have a conversation.”

“About?”

“No, let’s wait until we meet and talk in person. Coffee tomorrow afternoon?”

“Sure. Let’s make it at two. Cool?”

“Cool.”

Lachelle ended the call. She sat in her seat, using her tongue to play with the cut in her mouth. The wound reminded her of running into that big guy the other night. While he hadn’t said much, he had an impact. She wondered who he was and where he went. Did he know Skip, or was it a coincidence that they were in the same place at the same time?

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to catch up with Skip in a few days. One short call on the phone led to him making excuses about being busy on a story. He flew to California to follow up with some scientist or whoever. That kind of thing wasn’t unusual the whole time they had been together. She suspected the timing of this trip. For now, she let him go, waiting to confront him when she could look in his face and know whether he was lying.

“Lachelle!”

She jumped and spun around in her chair, frowning at her coworker who occupied the cubicle next to Lachelle’s. Never mind that the wall between them was low enough for Quantita to talk over, the woman had to leave her cubicle to come over to Lachelle’s on a daily basis.

“I was just about to get back on the phone. What are you complaining about now?”

Quantita waved spiky silver-painted nails. “Forget that. Did you see the news about that murder the other night?”

“What murder? Don’t tell me it was someone you knew?”

“God, no.” Quantita rolled her eyes. “But it was some freaky mess.”

“Freaky?”

Quantita took it upon herself to sit down on Lachelle’s filing cabinet. Lachelle noticed the light blinking on her computer screen, which signaled they better wrap up this conversation quick. Otherwise, her supervisor would come strolling along at any second.

“So check this out,” Quantita continued. “This guy was murdered over there by that restaurant on Commonwealth Avenue. You

know that one that’s open late.”

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