He pauses when my fingers touch his elbow, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Sure.” I huff out a semblance of a laugh. “Surprises have been going oh so well for me these days.”
My mate’s lips curl into a tight smile. “Whoever it is, it’s probably nothing to worry about.”
I want to believe him, I really do. But experience has taught me that relying on optimism often leads to unpleasant surprises. Especially lately.
Julien pulls open the door, then stands in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and an intimidating look on his face.
“Are you Julien Matisse?” asks an unfamiliar male voice from the doorstep. Leaning around Julien, I take a look at the guy. He’s a shifter, maybe in his late thirties, with blond hair and brown eyes and not someone I’ve ever seen before.
“Yeah,” replies Julien. “And who might you be?”
“I’m Harold Eames. I’m representing the interests of the Anderson pack from Sweet Water, Alabama.”
Great. This guy is here on behalf of my old pack, probably a lawyer of some kind. On the plus side, he’s still referring to it as the “Anderson” pack, so either they haven’t received word of Randall’s death yet or no one’s challenged Luke succession.
Julien stiffens. “Why are you here?”
Eames breaks into what I think is meant to be a friendly smile. Instead, it mostly looks like a predatory showing of teeth. “I was hoping we might sit down and discuss a settlement before the hearing tomorrow.”
“Why would I want to do that?” asks Julien.
Malice gleams in the attorney’s eyes. “Because we’re hoping to resolve this amicably.”
I snort.
Eames turns a patronizing smile on me. “And I’m sure there are some things Alpha Matisse might prefer were not brought up tomorrow and put on record at the hearing.” His gaze shifts to Julien. “Information about the lack of faith your pack elders have in you as Alpha, maybe?”
“What do you want.” Julien’s voice has gone so flat, it’s not even a question.
“Perhaps this might be a discussion better moved somewhere more private?”
Julien’s nostrils flare and he purses his lips, but he steps out of the doorway, gesturing for Eames to come inside. “We’ll go to my office.” He glances at me. “Keir, can you go grab Remy?”
“Sure.”
I dart into the dining room and catch the younger Matisse’s eye, before tilting my head in the direction of the office. Remy nods, rises to his feet, and then the two of us head to Julien’s office. Julien is still standing in the doorway glaring daggers at the back of the lawyer’s head as he lounges on a chair inside. Remy and his brother share a look I can’t interpret, then Remy puts out a hand to stop me from entering.
“I think it might be better if you weren’t here for this,” says Julien.
Confusion, followed quickly by hurt, washes through me. “What do you mean?”
Another look shared between the brothers.
Julien steps forward, placing his hands on my shoulders. “There are things you don’t know and I don’t think discussing them for the first time in front of a hostile stranger is wise.”
My hurt vanishes in a flash of—admittedly somewhat irrational—irritation.
“Fine.” I yank myself out of Julien’s hold and something flashes in his eyes. Regret maybe? Well, he damn well should regret what he just said to me. He knows I have trust issues, and this kind of behavior isn’t exactly going to make them better.
“Finish dinner,” says Remy in a low voice. “You can’t miss out on Mom’s lasagna. We’ll be done soon and can tell you all about it.”
I nod, my face blank while a war rages inside me. “Yeah. Okay.”
Julien and his brother step into the office, closing the door behind them and leaving me staring at the wood, fuming with anger. I debate for a second simply walking into the office and telling the two of them to get over it, but the last thing I want to do is act like an unruly child in front of someone Julien considers a ‘hostile.’ Especially when I have no idea exactlywhyI’m this pissed off about being shut out.
My emotions aren’t normally quite this volatile.
