advertised positions or anything.” I
looked at Mrs. P skeptically. There must have been over a dozen applications.
“Have I?” She had taken over so much of the job of overseeing everything
involved with the new shop, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out she had
placed an ad somewhere.
“Werewolf grapevine,” Tess answered my question as she
traipsed through the door. She had that freshly showered look and was munching on a
piece of toast with peanut butter. Yeah, we buy it in bulk.
“The what?” I asked, watching as Tiffy stiffened then
relaxed, her flight response almost completely conquered. Her nostrils flared
and she looked closely at Tess’s toast, smacking her lips hungrily. I made a
mental note to bring a jar of peanut butter down for her next time. You never thank a brownie,
or any Fae for that matter, if you can help it. Most Fae will
use your gratitude against you, but brownies find it insulting. Regular sweet
treats were the sure fire way to keep a brownie happy and show your gratitude
without saying it, but maybe Tiffy might want to try some peanut butter.
“The grapevine. The gossip mill. Whatever you want to call
it. Word is out that you are expanding into a new business. Now that you are
officially part of the pack, you’ll find that other pack members may decide
they want to pitch in. Or they may be looking for you to do them a solid and
give a fellow pack member a job.” She popped the last bite of toast into her
mouth.
“Really? Cool.” I nodded my head. The werewolf pack
wasn’t much different than the witch community, everyone lending a hand to help
each other. It was kind of nice to be accepted into the pack - even though I
didn’t go furry and howl at the moon - especially since I had sort of quit the coven,
unaffiliating myself from the Conclave after one of their members pissed me off
with his pretentious attitude. “You just waking up?” I made a show of looking
at the clock on the wall. It was after three. Tess looked a little sheepish.
Suddenly, it dawned on me. “Ohmigod! Are you just getting home?” I looked at
her clothes, trying to remember what she had on at the bonfire the night
before. Tess’s cheeks turned bright red. “You are!” I gaped at her. “You
are so totally busted.” I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the coffee
shop. I had intended to lead her over to one of the new booths so she could
dish, but she stopped, her mouth gaping.
“Wow, Harry. This place looks fantastic!” She spun in a
circle, taking in all the details. I had forgotten she hadn’t seen it in a
while. It really was a dramatic change from just a couple of weeks ago. The
booth cushions were now covered with the fabrics I had chosen. The black granite
counter tops with flecks of gold, that had seemingly appeared like magic overnight
and more than likely had, gleamed. On the lower curved part of the counter
there were four round, retro-looking malt shop style stools, with gleaming
chrome bases and burgundy pleather seats. They were the kind that you could
sit on and spin a full circle like when you were a kid. I had found them
online. I guess they had finally arrived and Morris and the boys had installed
them. Speaking of Morris, I could hear his voice booming in the kitchen at the
back of the shop. He and the boys were busy installing all the top of the line,
professional grade appliances Isaac had ordered for his dream kitchen.
“It does, doesn’t it? Now tell me about the guy from last
night.” I waved her over to a stool.
Tess blushed again. “Oh, you know, just a guy.” She
shrugged. “No big deal.” She avoided making eye contact with me.
“What’s up, Tess? You’ve never been shy about your conquests
before.” Unmated werewolves took sex pretty lightly, looking at it more as meeting
an animal need like eating. By norm standards, they would be considered rather
promiscuous and Tess was no exception. She usually had no problem describing
her latest
looked at Mrs. P skeptically. There must have been over a dozen applications.
“Have I?” She had taken over so much of the job of overseeing everything
involved with the new shop, I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out she had
placed an ad somewhere.
“Werewolf grapevine,” Tess answered my question as she
traipsed through the door. She had that freshly showered look and was munching on a
piece of toast with peanut butter. Yeah, we buy it in bulk.
“The what?” I asked, watching as Tiffy stiffened then
relaxed, her flight response almost completely conquered. Her nostrils flared
and she looked closely at Tess’s toast, smacking her lips hungrily. I made a
mental note to bring a jar of peanut butter down for her next time. You never thank a brownie,
or any Fae for that matter, if you can help it. Most Fae will
use your gratitude against you, but brownies find it insulting. Regular sweet
treats were the sure fire way to keep a brownie happy and show your gratitude
without saying it, but maybe Tiffy might want to try some peanut butter.
“The grapevine. The gossip mill. Whatever you want to call
it. Word is out that you are expanding into a new business. Now that you are
officially part of the pack, you’ll find that other pack members may decide
they want to pitch in. Or they may be looking for you to do them a solid and
give a fellow pack member a job.” She popped the last bite of toast into her
mouth.
“Really? Cool.” I nodded my head. The werewolf pack
wasn’t much different than the witch community, everyone lending a hand to help
each other. It was kind of nice to be accepted into the pack - even though I
didn’t go furry and howl at the moon - especially since I had sort of quit the coven,
unaffiliating myself from the Conclave after one of their members pissed me off
with his pretentious attitude. “You just waking up?” I made a show of looking
at the clock on the wall. It was after three. Tess looked a little sheepish.
Suddenly, it dawned on me. “Ohmigod! Are you just getting home?” I looked at
her clothes, trying to remember what she had on at the bonfire the night
before. Tess’s cheeks turned bright red. “You are!” I gaped at her. “You
are so totally busted.” I grabbed her hand and dragged her into the coffee
shop. I had intended to lead her over to one of the new booths so she could
dish, but she stopped, her mouth gaping.
“Wow, Harry. This place looks fantastic!” She spun in a
circle, taking in all the details. I had forgotten she hadn’t seen it in a
while. It really was a dramatic change from just a couple of weeks ago. The
booth cushions were now covered with the fabrics I had chosen. The black granite
counter tops with flecks of gold, that had seemingly appeared like magic overnight
and more than likely had, gleamed. On the lower curved part of the counter
there were four round, retro-looking malt shop style stools, with gleaming
chrome bases and burgundy pleather seats. They were the kind that you could
sit on and spin a full circle like when you were a kid. I had found them
online. I guess they had finally arrived and Morris and the boys had installed
them. Speaking of Morris, I could hear his voice booming in the kitchen at the
back of the shop. He and the boys were busy installing all the top of the line,
professional grade appliances Isaac had ordered for his dream kitchen.
“It does, doesn’t it? Now tell me about the guy from last
night.” I waved her over to a stool.
Tess blushed again. “Oh, you know, just a guy.” She
shrugged. “No big deal.” She avoided making eye contact with me.
“What’s up, Tess? You’ve never been shy about your conquests
before.” Unmated werewolves took sex pretty lightly, looking at it more as meeting
an animal need like eating. By norm standards, they would be considered rather
promiscuous and Tess was no exception. She usually had no problem describing
her latest
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