Page 94 of Due North

29

Tasha

The waiting room outside of Jeff Langston’s office in the Langston Development building is freezing. I wrap my arms tighter around myself, wishing, not for the first time, that I had worn a sweater. Obviously, I didn’t expect to come barging in here only to be left sitting in the waiting room until “Mr. Langston gets out of a very important meeting.” It’s already been almost an hour and there’s still no sign of him.

The stoic secretary guarding the front desk on the third floor shows absolutely zero interest in me. I’m sure it helps that I gave a fake name that wouldn’t mean anything to her or anyone else working for Langston.

I’m still hoping for the element of surprise.

Finally, my wolf gripes as a door down the hall opens and a group of men flood out, talking animatedly amongst themselves. It sounds like the meeting went well, which piques my curiosity.

I stand, making my presence known, and the two men walking in front of the group do a double-take when they notice me waiting.

“Well hello there,” the older of the two, a balding man in an ill-fitted suit that he probably bought ten years ago, says as he gives me a long once-over. He stops walking as he stares, and the rest of the trickling group slows to a crawl behind him.

“What’s going on?” Someone in the back of the group asks as everyone comes to a stop and stares at me like they’ve never seen a woman before. Not one of them shows any sign of recognition.

The man who spoke from the back pushes forcibly around the man in front of him, revealing himself to me. I know this has to be Jeff Langston. He looks uncannily like his father with his blunt nose, stiff upper lip, and short, slicked back hair. He also looks like he’s seen a ghost as he takes me in. Slowly, his face transforms, lips curling up as if he decides my presence will work in his favor.

“Move along, Shepherd,” he tells the man who’s still blabbering on, trying to hit on me even as I completely—and obviously—tune him out. The older man huffs but continues toward the elevator. “The rest of you too. Don’t stand around ogling my guest like a bunch of Neanderthals.”

Langston crosses his arms over his lean chest and glares at the men until they all trail after the first man, grumbling under their breath, to the elevator. It opens a second later, and they squeeze on, escaping Langston’s harsh stare.

“Tasha Jarreau.” My name rolls off his tongue as he turns his attention to me. He gives me a wide, fake smile, his nostrils flaring. “I haven’t had such a pleasant surprise in a long while.”

“It shouldn’t come as much of a surprise. You’ve apparently been offering good money to get my attention. Well, here I am.” I hold my hands up in offering, popping my hip to the side casually as if I’m completely at ease. Tension coils tightly in my chest, but I don’t want to show it. I would rather look overconfident than scared out of my freaking mind.

“Here you are.” Langston grins. “Jeff Langston, Miss Jarreau. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. Feel free to call me Jeff.”

He holds his hand out to me, but I don’t take it. I have no interest in being touched by this man. His tone is perfectly polite, but I can sense something more sinister below the surface. His eyes are dark, a hard glint to the glassy surface. There’s a clear lack of emotion behind his gaze that causes a shiver to race down my spine. I’ve never looked someone in the eyes and found such a distinct lack of humanity staring back at me.

Jeff drops his hand and glances at his secretary. “Rebecca, would you please remind the first-floor team we have visitors joining us soon?”

The secretary narrows her bright blue eyes suspiciously at me. I’m sure I return the expression, considering she very clearly told me Langston didn’t have another meeting after the one that just ended. His statement is code for something, and I need to make sure I get out of here before I find out just what those words mean.

“Miss Jarreau, why don’t you join me in my office?” Instead of waiting to see if I oblige, he heads down the hall toward a door opposite the one his meeting let out of. I don’t have much of a choice but to follow him now that I’m here.

I step into the monotone office, the furniture modern and starkly gray. There isn’t a single piece of decor in the room—only a few key pieces of furniture and blank walls. It’s decorated like a stopping point, not a destination. Langston didn’t even bother to pretend he plans to maintain operations here.

He strides straight toward the desk while I slowly continue to follow. As he rounds his desk, I stay on the opposite side to face him.

The lack of decoration means there isn’t anything to distract me from noticing the navy book sitting centered on the desk beside a computer keyboard.War and Warriors.I’m starting to think this book’s a bad omen.

“Why do you have this?” I blurt out, reaching for it. He doesn’t even try to stop me.

“It was my father’s. Don’t worry, I’m sure I don’t have to explain to you that I can’t read the damn thing. I spent good money visiting every reputable university Linguistics program in the country just to be told time and again that it’s written in a language that isn’t discernable. Gibberish, they dared to call it.” He presses his lips flat, as if we’re commiserating together.

“I would say that was for the best, considering it isn’t meant to be read by humans.” The ire is clear in my voice. There shouldn’t be a historical shifter text in a human’s hands. Langston is overstepping boundaries in every way possible, and it makes it harder for me to pretend to be pleasant. I can feel my upper lip curling slightly, giving away my irritation.

Langston’s left eyebrow twitches in annoyance, and he studies me for a moment. “You’re displaying an awful lot of animosity for someone who came strolling into my office building unannounced.”

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it? Surely you wouldn’t have bags of cash floating around trying to have me and my sister kidnapped if you didn’t want my attention. So now that you have it, I want to know what it’s going to take to rid ourselves of you.”

“Simple.” He takes a seat behind the desk and puts his hands behind his head as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. It’s infuriating to watch him treat my concern like a joke. “Sell me the pieces of land you control and convince the others to do the same.”

The man is delusional to think I would ever even consider it. “That isn’t going to happen.”

“Maybe you’ll change your mind once you see my offer.” He opens a desk drawer and retrieves a stack of papers before sliding them across the desk to me. It’s a contract, and I can see his offer on top. I barely manage to swallow a laugh. Both of the packs I belonged to worked in the construction field. I know a bad offer when I see one, and the seven figure number on the page would have to be multiplied ten times to be considered fair value.

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