5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Bri

W hen I creep out of the bathroom, the lights in the room are turned off. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, so I fumble over to the bed, making an effort not to wake Ghost up. In the process, I stub my toe on the corner of the nightstand.

"Damnit!" I whisper-shout, attempting and subsequently failing to stay quiet.

Movement in the corner pulls my attention, and I see Snowball curled up next to Ghost's bag, head now perked up, a lopsided grin on his face.

"Be up at seven. I'm going to that meeting. Phone or not. Contract or not. I will not spend my life in hiding. You need me alive? You can shadow me to the building and back. That's it," I say, my confidence stronger when talking to him in this form. "Night, Snowball," I finish, a cheesy grin on my face once I get fully tucked in.

If there are people who want to kidnap me, then I will do my best to be safe. I will make sure I'm never alone. I know they can't reveal themselves to humans, so I will stick with ordinary people—safety in numbers and all that.

As I fall asleep, I review my pros/cons list.

Pros: Snow, Dream job, Fresh Start.

Cons: Liv, Keith, Cain

***

Walking into Boston Digital feels surreal. When I imagined coming to work here two months ago, it was the bright spot at the end of a long tunnel. Today, as I stand in the modernly decorated open front lobby, all I feel are nerves.

It could be related to the kidnapping contract, or the man I know is following somewhere in the shadows, ensuring I don't actually get taken.

I wish I knew his role in this.

"Good morning! Thank you for calling Boston Digital. How may I direct your call? Absolutely, one moment, please." Buttons are pushed as the receptionist sends the call through.

I remove the thick jacket I brought to combat the cold and fold it nicely over my arm, which is carrying my leather laptop bag. Both were gifts from Liv's parents for my birthday this year, and, as the chill hits me, I'm grateful they thought of them.

Squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin, I walk up to the desk with a smile. The girl behind it glances up and gives me the gesture for one moment before speaking again.

"Good morning! Thank you for calling Boston Digital. How may I direct your call? Yes, sir, I can get you right over. Just one moment, please."

This time, when she places him on hold, her attention returns to me.

"Hi there! How can I help you?" she asks. Her voice and expression are naturally kind.

"Hi, I'm Brielle DelaCourt. I'm here to see Ethan," I respond, temporarily forgetting his last name and wishing I'd had my phone connection to look it up before coming in.

"Brielle! Yes, he said you would be in today. Have a seat, and I will have someone bring you to his office in just a minute," she says before flipping back to answer the phone call, which has her desk flashing with the red hold light.

Nodding, I turn and walk over to the seating area she indicated. I choose a seat away from the window and place my back to the wall so I can see anyone approaching.

See, look at me being aware of my surroundings. Take that, Casper!

As I wait, I smooth away wrinkles in my navy blue dress and pick imaginary lint from my off-white blazer. My hands cannot stay still without my phone distracting my nerves. Not to mention, I don't typically wear dresses in my current job, so I feel a bit out of sorts.

Liv helped me choose my three work outfits for this trip: two business-professional ensembles for office days and one night-time professional look since I might end up going out with the team. It's a Thursday, and I don't fly out until Sunday night, but I wanted time to explore the city this weekend.

Not sure that will be allowed now.

"Brielle?"

I jump at the sound of the woman's voice.

"Sorry to startle you!" she exclaims, causing me to turn in her direction. "I'm Tristan, Ethan's assistant," she finishes with a polite smile.

"I'm so sorry. I guess I was lost in thought. I'm Bri," I say, extending my hand for her to shake as I stand. She's my height and appears to be about thirty, with her long dark brown hair pulled back from her face. A pop of purple underneath catches my eye and makes me think of Liv, who has wanted to dye her hair purple for years but has never taken the leap.

"No worries at all. Let's get you upstairs, and we can set down your stuff so I can give you a tour."

As we move to the elevator, I scan the lobby again to see if anyone is taking note of us leaving, but everyone seems to be working or engaged in conversations.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the doors close, and we're headed up.

"Nervous?" she asks politely.

"Very. I've wanted this job for a long time," I answer honestly.

"Well, you didn't hear it from me, but I think it's already yours. Ethan has been raving about the ideas you discussed. We've actually already pulled the preliminary numbers on the sustainability initiative," she says, surprising me.

"Really? Huh. I came up with that during the interview based on an article I'd read earlier in the week. It was a big swing proposal at the moment. I can't believe he ran with it," I finish, a little taken aback by the pride I feel.

They're using my ideas.

"Oh yes," she starts as the doors open on the third floor. "One thing you will learn about Ethan is that he loves actionable steps. He jumps into things he believes in with both feet. We're lucky he's right most of the time, or it would cost us a fortune."

She laughs, and I realize my nerves are gone.

"What are you two conspiring about?" a male voice pulls my attention as we head toward Tristan's office.

"Oh, nothing much," she says while winking at me, mischief crossing her expression as Ethan comes into view.

He looks exactly like the photo on the company website. He's in his early forties, clean-shaven, and has salt-and-pepper hair. He's wearing a white button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and grey slacks. Clear-framed glasses hide his almond eyes but do nothing to cover the laugh lines that are etched into his skin.

I can tell he spends a lot of time smiling, which puts me at ease.

"Tristan here was spilling all the company secrets. I think you might need to give her a raise. She's far too valuable to lose, especially with all the information at her disposal," I add, feigning seriousness and causing him to laugh out loud.

"Tris wouldn't leave me. Her kids love me too much," he says, crossing his arms. His confidence oozes from him, immediately making me realize he reminds me of an older Keith.

"He's right about that. Spoils them both rotten."

"Bribery's an excellent negotiation tool; all I need is some sour patch kids or a trip for ice cream, and it's like I hung the moon," he says before turning more serious. "I'm glad you made it in today. I was worried you'd cancel when I didn't hear from you last night. Did you get to your hotel alright?"

His question makes me pause because I messaged him, but he didn't respond. I know my messages were going out because I could text Liv, Keith, and Cain.

I wonder if my phone's been compromised somehow…

"Oh, well, I made the mistake of leaving my phone at the airport in Las Vegas. It must have fallen out of my carry-on when I was loading the plane," I lie, trying for a reasonable excuse for not confirming I made it. "They contacted me this morning at the hotel, and my roommate is picking it up later today, so I get to have this experience without any distractions from social media or the million games I have stored on there," I ramble, realizing it's probably more information then they needed.

"Way to turn a negative into a positive. Well, if you'd like to use a company phone while you're here, just let Tris know, and we will set you up with one. I have a meeting across town, but I should be back for the staff meeting at 1 pm."

"Don't forget the gift bag; it's by Genny's desk," Tristan says, waving me to follow her.

"Got it. It's nice to meet you finally, Brielle. We're excited you're here!" he shouts over his shoulder as he walks onto the elevator.

"It's right in here," Tristan pulls my attention back as we enter her office. "You can put your things over here," she adds, pulling her jacket off to hang it on the back of her chair. She reveals an orange tank top blouse paired with black slacks, but it's her beautifully colored tattoos that pull my attention.

Flowers peak out at her collarbone, and a lion with detailed line work stretches up her arm, with more pink flowers around it, completing her half-sleeve.

Bright hair colors, tattoos… I like the culture here.

Turning away to set my coat and bag down before she catches me staring at her, I tug my sleeve, which covers my watercolor-lightening bug, and feel even more like I would fit in here.

Add to the Pro list.

A beautiful beach picture of her with her family is on her back wall. Her husband and two children stand beside her, all wearing giant smiles as the sun sets behind them.

"Have you had coffee? Breakfast? Where do we need to start?" she asks, pulling my attention from the photo.

"Coffee would be great. Thanks," I return, leaving my stuff and following her out the door. Something about that photo has my heart aching. It's everything I wanted my childhood to look like and everything I want for my kids someday—happy memories, together memories.

My thoughts drift to Cain, and I have to forcibly focus on the now to keep from picturing our future.

Do we have a future?

Forcing a smile, I take in what could be my future office. It has an open concept, with desks and tables set up strategically throughout the space. The main offices and conference rooms line the outer edges of the floor, and the center houses a large kitchen and coffee area complete with snacks and fridges with drinks and water, set out with tables like a cafe.

A few employees sit eating and looking over a tablet in front of them. There's a buzz in the atmosphere that has me smiling as I take it all in. Large screens show current projects and ads that are being perfected for mass media markets across the globe.

"How do you take it?" Tristan asks, making me realize she's already got a cup of coffee in front of her.

"Cream and sugar, please, lots. I like the caffeine but can't stand the coffee taste," I say as she laughs.

"You and me both. We have caramel syrup if that helps," she says.

"Yes, please!" I add.

Once my coffee is made, we tour the floor and talk to several associates. Everyone gushes about their jobs, has nothing but great things to say about the company, and is incredibly welcoming.

Two hours later, I'm pinching myself. This place feels like a dream. I'd gotten to meet everyone I'd be working with and sit in on discussions about current clients for whom the company is creating content. I even met the owner, Vince Gordan, who I have followed on social media since my first year of business school.

It's like this place was made for me.

The imaginary pro list in my mind has gotten incredibly long throughout the day, and I can't imagine any place checking all of the boxes like this one has. The only question still looming in my mind is whether I can make it work here as an Awakened wolf… that part of my future seems to be the only piece I have no choice in.