Page 11 of Shifted Desire

“You don’t need to explain. We love you, and we worry, but I totally get why you wouldn’t... We’re not offering because we’re, uh, wanting… That is, we want to stay friends and I don’t think of you like that…” Shane turns a bright red as he babbles, and his embarrassment is charming enough to lessen the awkwardness.

Elle pats his cheek. “He gets it, sweetheart.”

Neither of them looks offended at all by me rejecting their obfuscated offer to let me rut them during the full moon. If anything, they seem relieved as we head into their cozy house and chat about much less awkward topics.

As if it’s only been a few days rather than a year since I’ve seen them, we fall into easy conversation while I help Shane in the kitchen, chopping veggies for tonight’s salad.

“How was the first week at the new office?” he asks, unknowingly steering us into a sore subject.

I groan. “It was rough.”

Shane frowns as he stirs the risotto, which he’s making because he knows how much I love it. “Damn, I was hoping it’d be less stressful than the other office.”

“Oh, it is, but anything is less stressful than that cesspool.”

I’ve worked at my father’s marketing firm for almost my entire adult life, and it’s only gotten more uptight and insufferable over the years. I feel like I can finally breathe now that I’ve transferred to our east coast office, and I don’t know why I didn’t request to move sooner, but sometimes you don’t realize how toxic a situation is until you’re outside of it.

“It’s silly to complain. I have an executive assistant, but the guy didn’t show up after the first two days. I guess I scared him off.”

“I doubt that,” Shane chuckles.

Frowning down into my glass of water, my stomach clenches at the memory of the stern orders I gave the young man when he came in late, hating that I’m not the kind man Shane thinks I am.

I shrug. “Whatever the reason, he fucked off and hasn’t returned, so now I’m doing everything on my own. I’m shit at organizing things and have missed three calls already, which resulted in my father chewing me out because he got wind of my ‘lack of focus’.”

“Didn’t he retire? Why is he even bothering you about that?”

A humorless laugh falls from my lips. “You’d think after all these years, he’d trust me to do my job, wouldn’t you?”

Shane sighs sympathetically. “Some things never change.”

I can’t count the number of times I’ve wondered what my life would be like if I’d followed the path Shane did, cutting off all ties to his parents. But our situations aren’t the same.

His family is full of hateful bigots. He had no choice but to leave them behind. My family loves me, even if they’re not the best at showing it. They’ve given me everything. Even if I’m not what they’d hoped for.

“Samantha is living with us.”

The random statement jars me out of my musings. “Oh, yeah?”

Shane nods. “Yeah, her lease was up and she got fired right before that, so we offered to let her stay until she gets back on her feet.”

“That’s really kind of you.” I fight back a smile because I know where Shane is leading now, and I can tell he hates the thought of pressuring me into anything. “She was working as a receptionist, right?”

He nods again, more emphatically. “Right. Yes. She’s very good at her job. She was fired for…well, she hasn’t said exactly why, but Elle and I are both certain it wasn’t her fault.”

It’s hard to picture Samantha as a receptionist or being professional, given that my only interactions with her in recent years have been her sniping with her siblings around the dinner table during my annual visit at Samhain, and her refusing to call me Uncle Nathan. I get the impression that she doesn’t particularly like me, but I’ve never given it much thought beyond teasing her a bit when she’s rude.

But Shane wouldn’t lie about her capabilities. He adores his kids, but he’s not blinded to their imperfections. If he says she’s good at her job, she is.

“Sounds like I’m in luck,” I say with a grin. “If you give me her number, I’ll have HR call her to set up an interview.”

“It’s okay if you don’t think she’ll be a good fit! I know how…challenging Sam can be sometimes.”

“What are you saying about me?” As if summoned by her name, Samantha appears under the arched entryway to the kitchen, arms crossed over her chest.

Shane’s youngest, Max, follows her, rolling his eyes at his sister. “The usual. That you’re a pain in the ass and shouldn’t be allowed out in public.”

She scowls at him, and I fight back a laugh. Even in their thirties, they still love to squabble.