‘Give it a try and see.’
Nick spooned more batter into the pan. It sizzled faintly but thankfully this time there was no acrid smell of burning. ‘When do I turn it over?’
‘When you start to see bubbles,’ MacTire told him.
Nick peered at the pan. ‘Now?’
‘Do you see bubbles?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then you can flip.’
Nick reached for the pan with both hands and jerked it upwards. The half-cooked pancake flew upwards into the air before arcing down and landing on the floor with a dull splat. Mallory schooled her face into a blank expression.
Nick flushed and turned to his uncle. ‘I can’t do it.’
‘It’s just practice. It’s better to use a spatula until you get the hang of flipping.’ MacTire slid a steaming cup across to him. ‘Ms Nash and I are going to my office. Keep trying – it might be easier without an audience.’
Nick nodded. There was a glimmer of determination in his youthful face and Mallory smiled encouragingly before following MacTire out of the room. ‘You didn’t give him any help until he asked for it,’ she said, once they were out of earshot.
MacTire seemed surprised. ‘Of course not. If you don’t make mistakes, you can’t learn. It’s good for him to try things out for himself then, if he needs support, he can ask for guidance and receive it. It means he can learn his limitations, practise independence and stretch his abilities beyond what he thinks he’s capable of.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s the same whether he’s making pancakes, earning a living or negotiating werewolf politics.’
As Mallory gazed at him, several puzzle pieces slid into place. ‘You’re preparing him to become alpha after you retire.’
‘That’ll be up to Nick and the rest of the pack,’ MacTire said smoothly. ‘It’s not up to me.’
Except it almost certainly was up to him. Alexander MacTire’s influence would go a long way towards putting young Nick in that position. ‘You’re not planning for children of your own, then?’ Mallory asked. It wasn’t a given that any of his direct heirs would take his place as alpha, but it was often the way of such things.
He gave her a long look. ‘You ask a lot of nosy questions for a squib.’
She held her ground. ‘Idon’t care if you want one kid, twenty kids or no kids – but the woman who becomes your First Mate will.’
His mouth tightened a fraction but she knew he’d acknowledged her point. He sighed and finally gave her a proper answer. ‘I’d like children – two. One boy, one girl. But I’m not beholden to the idea. If the perfect woman who is the right fit for me and my pack doesn’t want, or can’t have, children then it’s not a dealbreaker.’
He raised an eyebrow as if challenging her. ‘You see,’ he added softly, ‘I can be adaptable when it truly counts.’ He paused for a beat. ‘Do you want children?’
She didn’t usually give away personal information to clients but something about the tone of this conversation encouraged her to say, ‘Yes, I do.’
‘How many?’
One boy and one girl would be beyond perfect but she couldn’t say that. ‘I haven’t thought about it,’ she lied.
‘Preternatural children?’
That was easier. ‘I don’t care. As long as they’re healthy, they can be half-witch, half-druid, half-troll or half-goblin.’
‘Half-werewolf?’ he asked softly.
‘Half-anything,’ she told him firmly. She tightened her toes. ‘We should get to work. Where’s your office?’
MacTire regarded her brisk attempt to change the subject with amusement. ‘This way,’ he said. He pointed to an oak door and bowed. ‘Ladies first.’
Chapter
Six
Something about MacTire’s office didn’t suit him and Mallory couldn’t quite put her finger on it. It was overtly masculine, but so was he. It was traditional and so was he, at least in some ways. Perhaps it was the heavy atmosphere that wasn’t right, or perhaps she was sensing things that weren’t there.
