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Even if I don’t want whatever fake connection Atticus thinks we have, the feeling of being able to help someone will always make me feel good.
“Thank you,” he murmurs a few minutes later.
“Anytime.”
His phone buzzes in his hands, and he sighs before saying goodbye. He heads out and the fact that I need to turn my space heater on to warm the room has nothing to do with the absence of him.
* * *
“Hey, Nora!” Seb’s voice hits my ears a moment before I see him, and I paint a fake smile on my face as he jogs over to me. How he can jog in those loafers, I have no idea. “I’ve been trying to catch you all day.”
“I’ve been a little busy,” I say, glancing up to the left corner of the room where a camera is. I spot the red flashing light, reassuring me to know they’re on and someone is on the other end.
Not that I expect anything to happen, but just on the off-chance.
“Totally get it. It’s hard being the boss,” he says, puffing out his chest. “I’d know.”
Mhm, so he claims. Except his employment records show different.
But it’s not worth getting into it. “Yes, sure.”
He opens his briefcase, pulling out an envelope that he hands to me. I frown at it, and when I look back up at him, he seems the exact same as always—slimy and overly eager.
“What’s this?” I ask. “An invitation?”
“An invitation? You mean, if I offered one you’d accept?”
Ignoring the eagerness in his tone, I ask, “So if not an invitation, what is this?”
“Someone put it under your door yesterday whilst you were out.”
“If it was under my door, how do you have it?”
He avoids looking at me, instead, motioning to it and changing the subject. “So, what is it?”
“Private,” I snap, walking away from him.
“You should’ve said thank you,” he calls, the cold, detached tone causing me to freeze. Tingles race down my spine, and when I turn back around, he’s gone.
What the fuck?
I hurry into my office and open the letter before sighing. Another one. Pulling open the bottom drawer of my desk, I throw this into the pile of graphic images that I’ve received.
I first received an image six days ago, on Friday of last week, but I seem to get one or two a day. I’ve hidden them in here, not sure what to do about it.
I keep denying that I’m a wolf, that I’ve got no contact with the shifter world, so hopefully, eventually, people will stop looking deeper.
A knock on the door has my attention darting upwards, and I guiltily slam the drawer. Micah is on the other side, a frown on his face.
“Hey, Micah!” He’s got on the same clothes as yesterday, and I get the feeling he’s not gone home since I last saw him.
“Hi, pretty girl. You done for the day?”
I look at the piles of work before nodding slowly. I don’t want to be here anymore, not alone where I’m vulnerable. “Yeah.”
“Amazing. I’ll walk you down,” he replies.
Normally, I’d fight it, and based on the surprise on his face, he expected that. But I don’t have it in me. Not right now.
