Page 59 of A Wolfe in the Woods

“I wasn’t aware Skoll Corp was branching into hospitality,” I said, tone even. “Or forestry.”

“We’re not,” he replied, flashing that same tight grin. “But we keep an eye on the region. Growth matters.”

“Funny,” I said, “I always thought growth required roots.”

His eyes flicked, just once. “But some things thrive in greenhouses,” he said coolly. “With the right structure.”

He’s been watching,I knew.

I let the silence stretch before I said, “I’m sure they do. But some things aren’t meant to be kept under glass.”

A beat.

Blanche’s eyes were bouncing between us like we were speaking a language she couldn’t quite hear. The tension was palpable.

Erik’s smile thinned. “Well,” he said, straightening his collar. “Don’t let me interrupt. Blanchette, I’ll see you up there. Don’t take too long. I need to brief you on the meeting with Vulcan.”

And just before he turned, he gave me one more look.

Not a threat. Not yet.

But a warning.

And I didn’t blink.

CHAPTER 16

BLANCHETTE

Three days later, I was sitting at my desk with an inbox full of unopened emails…and I didn’t have the will to read a single one.

I sorted through the stack of files on my desk, trying to decide where to begin. Erik had apparently decided that the best way to punish me for time away was to bury me under a mountain of catch-up work.

The glow of my monitor reflected off the glass wall of my cubicle while emails continued to pile into my inbox faster than I could answer them.

“Ever since you came back from Everwick you’ve had a special glow,” Bernie said, leaning around the edge of my cubicle wall.

I blinked up at him. “Do I?”

“You do,” he said mildly. “Either Everwick has miracle air…or something magical’s in the air.” He indicated with a playful smile.

Heat crept into my cheeks. “Maybe.”

Bernie chuckled softly and lifted his hands in surrender. “Well, whatever the reason…I hope it continues. Gods know you deserve it. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when the time’s right.”

I shook my head and returned to my screen, though a small smile tugged at my lips.

Martin from Marketing wanted my feedback on a press release about a developmental deal. Adalade from HR wanted a meeting about an executive who had apparently gotten a littletootipsy on elvish wine at a recent retirement party and said some uncouth things to one of the interns I oversaw.

Then there was the “incident” with the visiting siren exec from Azurine Holdings. Apparently, during a lunch meeting, she’d gotten overexcited while praising the company’s quarterly projections and let out a vocal trill that sent three interns into a brief trance. HR had flagged it as an “unintentional audio hazard,” and I was tasked with sending out a formal apology and sourcing enchanted earplugs for the next round of interns.

Another email popped into my inbox just then, making me jump. The subject line readMEETING NOTES FROM TUESDAY?

I sighed, staring at my screen in a tired daze. Had a meeting happened on Tuesday? One I’d meant to take minutes for? I couldn’t remember.

I sniffed, my throat scratchy and raw from the AC vent that blasted on me continuously throughout the day. I glanced over at my trash can and saw it was filled with tissues.

My brow furrowed. My neck was achy, my back stiff.