Page 71 of Into the Lion's Den (Secrets of the Northland Shifters)

I threw his phone back at him.

Sam caught it while giving me a confused look, then he handed it to Angel.

“Their manager lied?” Angel asked. “Why would he lie about the lead singer needing to be on vocal rest?”

I placed my hands on the table and bowed my head. My heart and mind were both racing, trying to come up with a way to mitigate the damage I’d likely caused my family.

“What are the chances he got paid to bail on us?” Sam asked.

“Maybe someone who was trying to make sure we had one disaster after another,” Angel speculated.

Well, we certainly had that. First, regular clients canceling, then vandalism to the ropes course. Those massage people canceling and now the band. Was it all connected?

Of course, I couldn’t add Sarah catching me shifting to that same disaster bucket.

“Well, if that’s true…” Sam took his phone back from Angel, then glanced at the windows. “They didn’t have to work so hard. This weather is going to turn the weekend into one big clusterfuck all on its own. What are we going to do with eighty guests who aren’t going to want to hike, canoe, ride…?”

“Monopoly tournament?” Angel asked.

“Jesus,” I muttered, pushing my weight up off the table. I took my phone from my pocket and tried to call Sarah.

“Well, at least the dinner party will go off without a hitch,” Sam said. “That’s the only part of the weekend that was already intended to be indoors.”

“What’s on the menu?” Angel asked.

“Fancy food,” Sam said. “Champagne fountains, caviar and crème fraîche tarts, crab and avocado toasts, shiitake mushroom palmiers…”

“What the hell is a palmier?” Angel asked.

My call went straight to voicemail. Did I seriously expect anything else?

When I looked down at Sam, his chin was raised and his eyes were wide.

“What is it?” I turned to see what he was looking at.

Robbie had just entered the staff cafeteria with a grim expression. His pant legs were wet from the ankle to mid-calf, and he was coming right for us at a fast clip.

“What’s wrong?” I asked before he’d even reached us.

“Boss, we’ve got a problem.”

“We don’t need another problem,” I said.

“It’s the dining room,” Robbie said. “The roof.”

I immediately followed him out with Sam and Angel on my heels. When we got to the dining room, Robbie hurried in while my brothers and I stopped in the entrance.

Robbie looked up at the center of the ceiling. Rainwater poured in. The parquet floor was already warped.

“Un-fucking-believable.” I turned and put my fist through the hallway wall. The stress of that morning was too great to contain.

“Oh, that’s perfect,” Angel said. “Something more to fix.”

Sam shook his head, then said, “I’ll call the roofer.” He strode away, his phone at his ear.

“The Maddox party will be here this afternoon,” I said.

“We’ll figure something out,” Angel said.

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