Chapter 6

The next morning, I woke up early and prepared for the long day ahead. Hopefully I wouldn't fall apart working alone on our busiest day of the week. At around ten, Melody called to tell me the whole story about the hair-dye fiasco. Since Lakota had fallen asleep beside her in the passenger seat, she spoke freely about his fear that his beloved uncles would have a field day cracking jokes about his purple hands.

Men were silly about such things.

After we hung up, I called my assistant to see if she wanted to earn extra money helping me out at the store, but as expected, she declined. Alice was supremely shy and worked from home. She used to come over on the rare occasion when Melody was at work, but after Lakota moved in, all that changed. I wasn't sure what Alice's animal was, but she didn't put out the wolf vibe at all. Sometimes a person's physical appearance hinted toward their animal, but she didn't have excessively furry arms or anything like that. Her delicate features were beguiling even if she wasn't conventionally attractive. It must have been the red hair. Redheads were coveted in the Breed world, especially by Shifters. But her introverted personality didn't make it likely she'd ever find a mate. Because of that, I'd generously offered her more opportunities to earn money helping us out. She was clever and quick to learn my designs, but unfortunately, she had no interest in working inside our busy store.

Luckily one of Melody's aunts had free time on Sunday to watch the store for half a day. I figured she could work the morning shift and that would allow me some time to sleep in since I'd have a long week ahead.

"These pants are so unique," a woman gushed. "I don't normally wear slacks; I'm from a different generation. But these are marvelous and so feminine. They almost look like a dress."

I rang up the price of the olive-green slacks with the wide legs. "If you like these, my partner plans to have more color options available soon. They're popular, and we've had a number of requests for blue and salmon."

She adjusted her gold-rimmed sunglasses. "I'll be sure to stop in again and look for them."

"Is this your first time at Moonglow?"

"Yes." Then the lady cupped her hand around her mouth and whispered, "I'm a Mage."

I smiled and touched her hand. "We welcome everyone here. My partner and I are Shifters, but we have friends and family who are other Breeds. Nothing pleases us more than to see people of all races wearing our merchandise."

She respectfully inclined her head. "I'll definitely be coming back. You can count on it."

I closed her bag and slid it forward. "We also don't tolerate discrimination, so if anyone ever gives you a hard time in here, let me know. I slipped a coupon in the bag for fifty percent off on your next visit. Have a wonderful afternoon."

She turned away with a jaunty step and pranced out the door. I knew it was excessively idealistic, but nothing made me happier than thinking that maybe in some small way, we were bringing people together. So much division existed in our world that it was nice to have a safe place where people could put aside their differences.

As the woman exited the shop, a tall man held the door open for her.

My breath caught.

Tak filled the doorway, his brown skin and ropes of muscle caught in the afternoon sunlight. By the looks of his cargo pants and black muscle shirt, he hadn't changed clothes. But he'd taken the time to neatly braid his hair. His eyes lingered on one of the mannequins in the window that wore a sneak peek of a new clothing line coming next month. He gravitated toward the Native American artwork on the wall and didn't notice me as he sauntered in. A blonde sidestepped to avoid running into him.

"How much are these?" a young girl asked, pointing at my beaded bracelets on the revolving display.

"Twenty dollars."

She grimaced. "Got anything cheaper?"

I recognized this girl from one of the local packs and knew she didn't have much money to spend. Teens in the Breed world didn't have credit cards, and most didn't have jobs until they became independent.

I gestured to a tall display in the corner. "We have a few pretty rings for as low as fifteen dollars over there. These are special stones, so no two pieces are alike. That's as low as I can price them, but it's totally worth it. Everything you see in this store was mined, sold, and created by Shifters. Try finding that at Walmart."

She grinned blithely and hurried off to check them out.

Why on earth had I made that promise to Lakota about closing early? Especially when there were more buyers than browsers today.

A man slapped his plastic bag on the counter. "Are you the manager? I need to speak to the manager."

I flicked a glance at his hairy arms, immediately put off by his surly demeanor. "That would be me. Can I help you with something?"

"You sure as hell can. You sold me a piece-of-shit purse. I gave it to my mate, and it had a broken strap."

I furrowed my brow. "We don't have a return policy for damages."

"It came that way."

I pulled the purse out of the bag and examined the strap. It looked as though it had been ripped off, threads hanging loose. Melody's purses could survive an attempted burglary, so it didn't make sense. "This purse was damaged after it left our shop."

"Are you calling me a liar?"

I squared my shoulders. "My partner and I inspect each piece of merchandise before we wrap it. There's not a chance we would have sold you a five-hundred-dollar bag with a broken strap. Do you have the receipt, Mister…?"

"Dumont." He angrily reached in the bag and waved the paper in front of my face. Mr. Dumont stared daggers at me with his beady eyes—the only feature on his face I could see behind his bushy beard. He didn't strike me as the type who would buy an expensive handbag for a mate, but I had to put aside speculation and focus on the facts. He didn't look familiar, so Melody must have been the one to ring up his order.

I took the receipt and reviewed the information. "You've had this purse for over three weeks?"

"Her birthday was yesterday," he fired back. "As soon as she tried it on, the flimsy strap broke. It's ruined."

Human stores had a policy that the customer was always right. Breed shops didn't work that way. The price of the purse was five hundred dollars, and because it was a one of a kind, it was one of Melody's favorites. If she were here, she would probably flip her lid.

"For a fee, we can repair the damages," I offered.

"No," he said, speaking to me as if I were a child. "You're going to give me a refund, and I want an extra five hundred for the way you're treating me."

Tak eased into view, admiring a display of necklaces inside the glass counter.

"Sir, it's clear that your mate damaged the purse. Had it been a small tear inside, it's possible we could have overlooked that flaw. But this," I said, shaking the strap at him, "shows me that your mate doesn't know how to take care of nice things. You can either pay for the repairs or stand here and argue with me. But I promise that if you choose to go to battle with me on this, I'm going to cut off the rest of this strap and whip you right out of my store."

Tak snickered and pivoted away.

Dumont pointed his finger in my face. "What gives you the right to speak to me like that? I'll be sure to let your Council know about this."

I gave him a mechanical smile. "Do so. I'm sure the Shifter Council has nothing better to do than worry about a purse."

His eyes narrowed. "Then maybe the public should know that you sell junk," he said, turning away. He raised his voice. "This place is a junkyard filled with worthless secondhand trash, just like the owners. It's all fake! You dirty Indians need to go back to living in the woods."

Incensed, I grabbed the purse and circled the counter as fast as my feet would allow.

"Don't waste your money here," he continued. "This place is nothing more than a—"

Snap!

Before he could finish his sentence, I whipped him on the ass with the strap of that broken purse. Not my most professional moment, but I saw red. Nobody, but nobody, came into my shop and smeared our reputation with lies.

People around us looked confused and drifted away from the crazy shopkeeper who was beating her customer.

I lifted my chin, my hands shaking. Regaining my composure, I lowered my voice. "If you open your mouth again, I'll raise charges of slander."

When he inched forward, a mountain moved between us.

"Got a problem with Natives?" Tak said, his voice low and dangerous. "Because if you do, I'm about to get real uncivilized."

The man stalked off, the bell jingling noisily as he flung the door open and left.

I glanced up at the giant before me. "Who asked you to intervene?"

Tak peered over his shoulder at me, his eyebrows sloping down in the middle. "What was your plan if he had attacked you?"

With the purse still in hand, I returned to the register. "He wouldn't have tried. This isn't a bar."

Tak followed me, and when he reached the counter, he tapped his finger against the hand-carved wolf statue Lakota had given us. "Funny running into you here. Everywhere I go, there you are."

I placed the purse inside a drawer for safekeeping. "Exactly why are you here?"

Tak shrugged. "Thought I'd check out the famous Moonglow. So you're the Miss Church? Melody's partner? I didn't make the connection since Lakota doesn't share the same name. Your business brings my father good money."

My jaw slackened. "Your father is… Shikoba?"

Tak gave a mirthless smile but didn't answer. Instead, he steered his attention to the items beneath the counter on his left. The quiet way he examined each item in the display made it feel as though he was judging me. Shikoba was our gemstone supplier, but he'd never seen my designs. Had he sent Tak to spy on our business? Would this man return home and tell his father that my jewelry was unworthy of his stones?

Tak rested his forearms on the glass and held a pensive look on his face that left me curious as to what he was thinking. His handsome mane reached the center of his back, the braid secured by a leather hair tie with tiny turquoise stones on the tasseled ends. I imagined he was a formidable leader in his tribe. But why would a man permanently mark his face?

"Let me see this one," he said, tapping the glass with his index finger.

I looked down and raised my brows. Most men wanted to see the chokers, but none had ever asked to see my most cherished piece—a squash blossom necklace with a downturned crescent at the bottom. I had chosen only the most beautiful turquoise stones to pair with the silver, and though I knew the necklace would be too conspicuous for most Shifters, it spoke to my heart. That piece was the only item I'd made by hand that was still in the glass display from day one, and I guessed it would remain there for many years to come. It was flashy, big, and priced high.

"You don't want to see this piece," I said. "That choker looks more your style."

His thick eyebrows gathered in a frown when he looked at the bone choker adorned with silver and black beads. "I don't want to see that one. I want to see this one."

"This is for serious buyers only."

Tak opened his wallet, and when I glimpsed a few twenty-dollar bills, I decided to save him the embarrassment.

I touched his hand. "It's fifteen thousand."

Tak stilled, staring at his insufficient funds. He retracted his arm and tucked his wallet back in his pocket. "For that kind of profit, I hope you're paying my father well for his stones."

"Rest assured we have a fair contract. I don't base prices on the blue book value; it's about the time put into crafting each one and choosing the right stones that fit together. There's love in every piece I make, but some are more valuable than others."

"I can buy a car for that much."

Insulted, I went back to the register. "Then perhaps you should. My father says only laborers drive white trucks."

A chuckle rumbled deep in his chest. "Does your father not labor?"

"My father is one of the most respected Packmasters in the territory, so tread carefully when deciding whom you choose to insult in this town. If one of his packmates had overheard that remark, they would have drawn blood."

He tilted his head to one side, his dark eyes lit with interest. "How long have you been living apart from a pack? What do they call it? Rogue?"

"Independent." I moved a jar of mints aside. "Tell me, how is it you know my brother and yet you didn't know about me?"

Tak rubbed the tattooed side of his face and looked away. "If Lakota hasn't mentioned me, then I'm not sure I want to answer that."

The clock on the wall reminded me of how many tasks I needed to complete before closing up the store. "Weren't you supposed to be leaving town?"

"I couldn't leave without swinging by the store." He rested his hands on the counter, arms straight and shoulders broad. "My father will want a full report."

Sweat touched my brow.

Tak smiled invitingly, his voice sweet like honey. "I don't think I've ever met a woman quite like you."

When his eyes settled on the scar on my forehead, I looked away and moved our wolf totem to a new spot. "I'll be sure to let Lakota know you stopped by."

"Does your brother usually leave you unguarded for days at a time? Do you have a mate, or is it just you in that apartment?"

Butterflies flitted in my stomach. At five eight, I'd never felt small around anyone until now. I wished Lakota hadn't told this guy they were going on a trip. He probably hadn't thought it mattered since Tak was leaving town.

But Tak was still here.

Standing in my shop.

Tak snatched a peppermint from the bowl by the register and grinned as he twisted open the clear wrapper. Chomping on the candy, he swaggered toward the door, and even walking away, he looked fierce. I'd never seen such a dominant alpha, one who didn't need to summon his wolf to win a fight.

When he opened the door, a burst of sunshine enveloped him. "See you around, Duckie."