Chapter 53

How the fuck was I dealing with shit?

By trying to be normal.

I fucking hated normal.

Normal looked like wearing a goddamn dress shirt with dress pants and fancy fucking shoes. Mom argued with me the importance of keeping my sleeves down to hide some of my tattoos—professionalism and all that crap. I counter-offered by wearing a fucking tie and I still rolled up my goddamn sleeves. There was no hiding the fact that I was tattooed anyway.

We also argued over the color of my shirt—so fucking loud that we even woke the kitchen prince from his grumpy slumber. He stumbled down the stairs half asleep, naked, and yelled at me to wear the black before crashing on the couch.

Black shoes, black shirt, black fucking tie, and my rolled-up sleeves with my tattoos showing. If Sebastian Monroe Jr. wanted to fucking hire me, he’d get all of me exactly as I was. I was a damn hard worker, but if he couldn’t see past my ink, well that was his own damn problem.

Fuck, I felt like a goddamn tool. I hadn’t worn dress clothes in fucking years. It just wasn’t me. Not anymore at least.

Much to Mom’s approval, I took my Jeep. Though, I’d been real damn tempted to take my motorcycle just for the look on her face. Yeah, I was in a fucking mood. It wasn’t her fault. I was just in a shit mood, worried about everyone, and struggling to contain my anger.

I’d buy her flowers on the way home for being stuck putting up with my grumpy ass.

I took a chance to survey the mill as I got out of my Jeep. Not a damn thing had changed since I left except for maybe some equipment upgrades. Logs, trucks, and old buildings with the scent of sawdust and water everywhere.

Why the fuck was I wearing a tie for this? Shit. Screw that. I yanked on the knot of my tie and slipped it off before I strode across the lot.

The place was slow, considering it was the end of the day, but I knew enough to know their business never slowed—especially with the expansion the company was going through. The last building was the main office among other things. I let myself in.

The woman at the front desk I didn’t recognize. She stopped typing to stare, intense gray eyes following my movements as I wandered deeper into the main foyer. Chocolate hair fell around her shoulders damn near perfectly—too perfect. How much hairspray did the fucking woman wear?

She dressed better than any fucking person in Cedar Harbor, which was a dead giveaway that she wasn’t from around here. Her red shirt was satin, the heels that peeked out from under her desk weren’t fucking cheap, and I could guarantee that the gold necklace around her neck was real. Rigid back, chin up, naturally hard stare. The woman was built like a powerhouse—used to running a room. And ready to hand me my ass from the look on her face as she glanced up at the fucking clock.

No big deal. I was used to handling strong personalities.

“Ms…” I stalled as I scanned her desk for a nameplate. Nothing.

“Morrison,” she finished for me. Those gray eyes settled on mine, expectant and unyielding. “You can call me Ms. Morrison.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Morrison,” I said with a smile I knew was charming. She, however, was not charmed. If anything, the downward curve in her frown deepened. So much for good first impressions. “I have a meeting with Sebastian.”

“I know. You’re late, Killian Byrne,” she replied.

“No, I’m not late.” I checked the clock. Not late. “We said between four and five. It’s between four and five.”

“Any reasonable person looking to be hired would have been here at four rather than right before closing at five.” She stood, adjusting her skirt as she did. The woman exuded confidence and fucking ego as she strode across the room to Sebastian’s door. Without knocking, she let herself in.

“Jesus fuck,” I grumbled. A great fucking start to the afternoon. Ms. Morrison was probably telling Monroe not to hire me.

I dropped in a chair. Why did I fucking care so much? I had no desire to follow in Declan’s footsteps and become a lumberjack. That didn’t sound fucking pleasant, even if I did have the shirt to prove I was the best at it.

“What the fuck are you grinning at?”

I glanced up to see Sam standing in the doorway. He looked good all things considered, but he was also buried in a flannel jacket with a fucking beanie on his goddamn head so what did I know?

“Fucking lumber-snack king,” I scoffed. “Could I put that on my resume?”

“Only if you want to look like a douchebag,” he said. “Declan get you an interview?”

“Yeah.” I sighed. “I guess I need his help for that now too.”

“Don’t be too hard on him,” Sam replied. “He means well. He’s got a lot more time on his hands. You get used to it.”

“How do you like working here?”

“It’s good.” He shrugged. “Work is steady, and they’re flexible with me for declining health reasons.”

“Declining health reasons?” I repeated with a frown, but he only stared at me pointedly. I repeated the phrase in my head a few times until it dawned on me. “Oh. Got it.”

In other words, when he was too much of a wolf to fucking human.

“That’s nice of them,” I commented. I made a playful check in the air to lighten the mood as if I didn’t notice the darkness in his expression as we danced around his issue. “Put that in the pro column.”

The door to Monroe’s office opened, and Ms. Morrison came right back out, those fancy fucking heels clicking on the hardwood. And fuck me, if Sam didn’t stand a little taller and take his hat off.

“Mr. Monroe is wrapping up something and will see you in a few minutes,” she said. Her entire demeanor changed when she realized Sam was standing right there. Softer? Yeah, she definitely softened. “Mr. Byrne.”

“Ms. Morrison,” he greeted with a smile—what the fuck was that look on his face? My gaze flicked between the two of them. I might as well have not been in the fucking room with the way they stared at one another.

Oh fuck me, she was the woman he was in love with.

“You’re Sloane!” I announced loudly before I could stop myself. Her head whipped in my direction. “Declan told me about you… about the front desk… you’re Sloane.”

“It’s Ms. Morrison to you,” Sloane replied.

“Yes, Ma’am.” I nodded. This woman would fucking kill me if I called her anything else.

“I’ll see you later, Killian,” Sam told me. “Have a good night, Ms. Morrison. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He was halfway out the door when she went after him.

“Mr. Byrne,” she said quickly. “My car is making a weird sort of… noise.”

“What kind of noise?” he asked. His brows came together and his eyes narrowed with concern.

“A… weird clicking one,” she repeated. I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Maybe the weird clicking noise was her goddamn turn signal. I had a feeling there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with her car. It was just an excuse to talk to him.

“Show me.”

“Oh, we don’t have to do that.” Sloane laughed, awkward and kind of adorable if I did say so myself. “You’re done for the day—”

“Are you done for the day?” Sam demanded. I watched them in utter fascination. How the fuck were these two that oblivious? Sure, she may have been into women, but she was also definitely into Sam. And he was damn near eating out of the palm of her fucking hand.

“Well, no. I still have another hour.”

“That’s another hour of your car sitting in the lot,” he said. “Either you can show me what’s going on, or I’ll figure it out. I’m not letting you drive around if there’s something wrong with your car.”

I grinned, wanting so badly to make my own commentary, but I knew I’d go unnoticed. They were so locked in on each other that nothing else existed except her car with its weird clicking noise.

“Okay,” Sloane whispered. Sam tracked her movements as she hurried across the room and ruffled through the papers on her desk for her keys. She made fast work of rejoining him and leading him out the door, rambling on about the weird clicking noise that only happened every once in a while so it might not happen while they were out there.

“Bye, Sam!” I called out cheerfully, but fuck, if he heard me. I didn’t exist. I grabbed my phone to text Declan. I couldn’t keep this to myself.

So.

DECLAN: Yes?

I met Sam’s lesbian.

DECLAN: You can’t call her that.

She’s not a lesbian.

DECLAN: You can’t say that shit.

Look, I’m not saying she’s not into women. I don’t doubt that. But that woman is into Sam.

DECLAN: I don’t see it.

How blind are you?!?!

DECLAN: She says she isn’t and I believe her more than you.

I’m calling it now—if she is—Sam is putting her through her bi-awakening.

That woman is fucking smitten and making up shit to get him to look at her car.

DECLAN: She does have him fix her car a lot…

An unreasonable a lot?

How old is the car?

DECLAN: Not old enough to have so many issues.

DECLAN: Fuck me.

DECLAN: No.

Yes!

DECLAN: Don’t you tell him.

I wasn’t planning to. But I’m going to enjoy watching this unfold.

“Ian!” The door to the office flew open with a little too much enthusiasm. Sebastian Monroe Jr. was the family oddball from what I’d gleaned about the Monroes over the years. He looked the part in his navy dress pants and white dress shirt, but it was the little things that set him apart from his money-having family. It was the work boots and pant cuffs covered in dust showing he wasn’t afraid to get in the middle of it with his employees. It was the cheap, scuffed-up watch on his wrist and broken fingernails. I knew the change in him was recent—I’d heard enough about him down south from truckers at the bar to know he was trying to do better as he took over his father’s company. “Or is it Killian now? You went by Ian in high school, I remember that much.”

“Either is fine.” I rose to greet him, shaking his hand. “But most people call me Killian.”

“Killian it is!” God, he was fucking loud. “Come on in. Can I get you a drink?”

“I’m good, but thank you,” I replied and followed him into his office. His office was modest, mostly just a big desk, filing cabinets, a couch, and a chair.

“Sit,” Sebastian ordered as he gestured to the couch. “Make yourself comfortable. This will be much less formal than you’re expecting.”

“And what am I expecting?” I fucking hated when people assumed they knew me.

“A job interview,” he said. I watched as he poured a short glass of whiskey. “But I’m not giving you the job.”

I bit my tongue to keep from saying something stupid. In and out. Short and polite. Or as polite as I could fucking be, considering he was wasting my time.

“Calm down,” Sebastian told me and sat across from me. “You think louder than you talk.”

“And what am I thinking?”

“In and out, short and polite.” A slow smile curved his lips as my jaw damn near dropped. Over the edge of his glass, he said, “You wolves aren’t the only magical creatures in this town, you know.”

Electric blue magic sparked in his chocolate eyes and off his fingertips. There one second and gone the next—so fucking fast I thought I was imagining it.

“No, not imagining it.” He took a slow sip. The idea that this fucker was inside my head bothered the hell out of me. My skin crawled uncomfortably and my wolf growled in agreeance, the sound vibrating through my chest.

“You’re a fucking witch,” I said. Dumbass, that much was obvious.

“My whole family is on my mother’s side,” he explained. “Goes back more generations than we know. You can relax. I’m harmless. Mostly.”

I fucking doubted that, considering how inside my head he was. Still, I settled back on the couch and openly glared at him, my body and my wolf coiled tight. I didn’t like having shit like this sprung on me—especially not after Charlotte’s murder.

“Define mostly,” I snapped.

“I can hear people’s thoughts when they think too loud, small spells here and there, can fuck with electricity,” he replied. “Truthfully, I could do a lot more if I cared. My family’s specialty is mind magic. Hence the thoughts thing, but we dabble in everything.”

“How long have you known—”

“Since the day I met your parents,” Sebastian interrupted. “You wolves all have a certain… smell.”

“Excuse me?”

“Not in an offensive way,” he continued. “All magical creatures have a smell about them. In a town of wolves, it becomes easy to figure out who is who.”

Well, that was fucking news to me.

“Well!” Sebastian raised his glass to me. “With that out of the way, let’s talk about why you’re here.”

“For the job you’re not fucking hiring me for,” I said. “Why the fuck did you tell me about your magic?”

“Because I need you and me on the same playing field when I make you an offer, Killian,” he replied. I frowned. “I hate Cedar Harbor. I hate everything about this God-forsaken place. I don’t even like Washington.”

“While that sucks, what does that have to do with me?” I asked.

“I want to train you to take over the Cedar Harbor and Iron Falls division of my company.”

“Me?” I stared like a fucking idiot because I had to have heard him wrong. I wasn’t deaf, but I was questioning my own hearing. “Me?”

“Yes, you.”

“You want me to run the mills in Cedar Harbor and Iron Falls?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do,” he affirmed.

“Why the fuck would you want that?” I exclaimed. “I don’t know a fucking thing about doing your job.”

“I’m aware,” Sebastian said rather smugly. “Admittedly, you don’t have the professional qualifications either.”

“Then why the fuck do you want me?” I couldn’t wrap my head around his offer. I was a horrible fucking pick for something like this.

“I wanted a Byrne.”

“Why not Declan? He fucking worked here for God’s sake.”

“If I wanted Declan, I would’ve asked Declan,” he answered. “I want you. I need someone with your tenacity and ambition. Someone who cares about both towns and the people in it. My company keeps both Cedar Harbor and Iron Falls well above the board economically. You have strong ties to both. Business can be taught. Motivation, however, comes from the heart. Your loyalties to both packs means you’ll make the hard choices needed to keep the company running. And of course, you’ll work closely with me—remotely once your training is done obviously. You sure you don’t want something to drink? You look like you could use it.”

Fuck, I wanted one, but I shook my head.

“I don’t drink,” I grumbled.

“Good to know,” Sebastian replied. He wandered across the room and traded out his glass of whiskey for two bottles of water. “You’ll be fully equipped to do the job, I promise. I wouldn’t just throw you to the wolves so to speak.”

“I’d survive the fucking wolves,” I retorted.

“No doubt.” He grinned. “The starting pay is easily triple what you made as a cop here in town. You’ll be given a company vehicle for travel back and forth between here and Iron Falls to cover gas, lodging, and meals. You’ll just have to keep track of everything for the accountants. Once you’re settled and ready to run both locations, you’ll receive a significant pay increase, and I’ll be buying you into the company.”

“I’m sorry what?”

“That won’t happen for years.”

“Yes, but what do you mean you’ll buy me into the company?”

“I don’t want you to just run the mills for me, Killian,” he said. “I want to hand over this division of my company to you. The lumber business is just one division of my father’s company—he got into everything he could from lumber to technology. If there was a way to monetize it, he figured out how. And now my job is to keep that going, but while I have no interest in the lumber business, I’d be stupid to let it go completely. This division is doing very well, there’s growth to be had, and I don’t see a reason to stop that.”

“You just want someone to do it for you,” I summarized.

“I want someone to work their ass off while I work my ass off elsewhere,” Sebastian corrected. “Make no mistake, Killian, you won’t be working your ass for nothing while I roll in my fucking money. You’ll make more money than you know what to do with, and you’ll have the freedom to hire whoever you need to make your job easier.”

“I need time to think,” I told him quietly. That was a fucking understatement. I wasn’t sure I’d ever wrap my head around half the shit he’d said.

“I know.” He tapped his temple. Stupid magic. “Come back to me when the hunter in town is taken care of. That takes priority.”

“What do you know about the hunter?” I asked.

“No more than there is one in town, Charlotte was killed by it, and I hope to hell you kill the damn thing before more people end up dead,” he stated. “I may hate Washington, but I grew up here. Wolf or not, I care about the people of this town. I know you won’t be able to focus until after this, so we’ll get you settled in and started once it’s over.”

“I haven’t said yes.”

“You will.”