He would say, though, that the dogs knew how to enjoy what would otherwise be a painfully dull party. They seemed to be entertained by the simplest things, and at times, they seemed to have the sexual maturity of thirteen-year-olds based on the way they giggled over a rather well-endowed statue. Of course, that could also be the champagne.
Smitty leaned against the wall and checked in with his team. All seemed well, although he no longer found that surprising. They were becoming a well-oiled machine, and a few more jobs like this and they might actually finish out the year in less debt than they already were. In a couple more years, he might be able to come to events like this as a guest rather than as staff.
His eyes strayed back to Jessica. Once again, she hadn’t noticed him. Truly. No “faking that I haven’t seen him” either. She really hadn’t seen him. The woman was completely oblivious.
Some old Latin music came on and the same blond wild dog from Jessie’s party the week before took Jessie’s hand and pulled her into some rather good dance moves. Smitty’s eyes narrowed. What was it with that guy and “dancing” with Jessie? Seemed more like an excuse to get his paws on her. Although, Smitty grudgingly had to admit, the man did seem loyal to the blond female he kept hanging around. Maybe it was a dog thing.
The blonde spun Jessie out and then expertly pulled her back in, before having the nerve to dip her. Smitty briefly wondered how many of the men there were trying to look up Jessie’s dress.
That was it. He had to say something. The woman was a menace to herself!
Champagne in hand, Jess pulled away from her Pack and headed toward the buffet table, debating whether she felt like eating standing up or not. You’d think for ten thousand bucks a plate they’d have a sit-down dinner. Still, she’d have given them the money anyway. For a kid’s charity, she could do nothing less. Pushing through the crowd, amazed at the turnout, Jess stopped when a male voice called her name.
“Jessica! Jessica!” She cringed and turned to face Sherman Landry. She’d completely forgotten he’d probably attend this event, but Phil and Sabina had insisted she needed to come.
“Hi, Sherman.” When he stood in front of her, she gave him a big forced smile. “How are you?” she asked.
“Fine. Fine. And you?”
“I’m fine.”
“And your wolf friend?”
Lie, Jessica. Lie! “Oh, he’s around here somewhere.”
“I assume you had to pay for his ticket.”
Jess didn’t answer; instead, she used her forefinger to rub away the sudden tic in her left eye.
“You don’t see many Smiths around these kinds of events,” Sherman continued. “They’re much more your beer and NASCAR crowd.”
Jess’s eyes narrowed, suddenly envisioning Sherman not as a true wild dog but one of those pampered pups sitting on a pillow. A bichon frise or a papillon. Imagining him with bows in his hair did make her smile.
“I love NASCAR,” she admitted, hoping the truth would make him go away. “It’s fun, the people are nice, and it has fast cars. I love fast cars.”
“Yes, yes. Nothing like watching people drive in a circle.” Before Jess could say anything—like “fuck you”—Sherman stepped back as far as he could in this crowd and smiled appreciatively. “Jessica, I must say you look gorgeous.”
“Thank you.” She’d kill Phil.
“You take my breath away.”
“Sherman, that’s very sweet. Thanks.”
He cleared his throat. “I was wondering... ” Another throat clear. “About us going out again. For dinner?”
“Dinner? Um... ” Think of an excuse. Think fast! “Uh... Smitty.” She took in a deep breath. “I can’t ’cause I’m seeing Smitty.” There. That’ll work.
“Jessica, seriously.” He stepped closer. A little too close. “I’ve discussed this with my sister and we both understand a girl has needs.” His sister? He’d talked about this with his sister? Suddenly, Jess felt a tad ill. “And wolves are perfect for the short term. But you’re not getting any younger.”
Wait. Did he just say that to me? No, no. He couldn’t have.
“You have to think about the future of your Pack. I’m sure you’ll want to breed pups of your own. Normal pups. Not hybrids. I believe you and I have much to discuss in that area.”
Jess stared at him. She couldn’t help it. Apparently the presence of Smitty had pushed Sherman’s hand. Instead of romance, though, she got the word “breeding” tossed at her.
“Jessica... ”
He moved in closer, and to her horror, she thought he might kiss her. But her phone rang and she yanked it out of her tiny designer purse with an urgency she’d never felt before.
“Phone! I must answer my phone.”
“Yes, but—”
“Bye now.” Jess turned and walked away, answering the phone at the same time.
“Yes?”
“Hi, Jess. It’s Bets.” Her assistant. Someone would be getting a quarterly bonus for saving her wild-dog ass from more breeding discussions.
“What’s up, Bets?”
Betsy went into a litany of problems with one of their accounts while Jess headed toward the bathrooms. This problem was not normally something that would work its way up to Jess, but the client was pissed and she brought in a lot of serious money and other important accounts. It would not be in their best interest to ignore this woman.
“Can you put me through to her?”
Standing outside the ladies’ room, Jess leaned against a wall and waited for her call to be patched into a very nice office in Detroit.
Once she had her, Jess went into her usual soothing spiel. She’d gotten really good at it. Must have had something to do with working with cops for a few years. They’d come busting into her department, anxious, annoyed, and usually pissed off at some ADA, wanting to know what she’d found on some scumbag’s computer. At that point, Jess had two options: get pissy right back, which a lot of her coworkers did, or soothe. She soothed, and to this day she still had friends on the force who watched out for her, her company, and her friends.
As Jess listened to her client and made lots of “I absolutely agree with you” noises, she turned and realized she had the females of the Stark Clan standing there, glaring at her. Their eyes glowed in the low light of the narrow hallway.
“Think that was funny, did you?” Madeline practically snarled.
In answer, Jess held up one finger. “Give me a sec, hon,” she whispered, “until I’m done with this client.”
The hyenas blinked in shock. They always expected some first attack from her. She wasn’t a wolf. She only did a first attack when her pups were in danger. Then all hell broke loose. But some bullshit show of strength? That could wait.
“Hey. I’m speaking to you.”
Jess smiled and nodded in agreement. They hated when she did that. She saw a fang, but then Marissa Shaw came up behind them and slammed her hands against Madeline Stark’s back.
Now lionesses? Yeah, those big cats were all about the first attack.
Jess stepped back and out of the way of the yearly fight that would most likely ensue between the females. While she did, she continued to keep the conversation going with her client. Living with her Pack, one learned to multitask.
“You gotta problem, bitch,” Marissa growled, baring enormous fangs. “You can bring it to me.”
“So says Jane of the Ghetto.”
Jess winced. That was a dumb thing to say. Marissa wasn’t exactly ashamed of her humble upbringing, but she didn’t take it well when some rich heifer mocked her about it either.
Marissa grabbed Madeline around the throat and shoved her. Madeline stumbled back. Jess tried to move out of the way, but she didn’t move fast enough and the hyena slammed into her, sending Jess flying out the back exit door. She hit the opposite wall, a surprised grunt exploding out of her as the exit door slammed shut.