"We're living through incredible, uncertain times," Reynard said. "Anyone in the pack is welcome here." He looked at another man, who was leaning against the counter. "Order food, make sure there's plenty for all day. Make it feel like a buffet. Have everyone meet here at six. We're having a service. Isengram deserved that." Rey sighed and grabbed several donuts in a napkin.
Carissa went with us to the PR headquarters. I tried to focus, but my heart was heavy. Reynard and Carissa discussed Reynard's social media coming out and I just marveled over how my life had changed in a matter of a few days.
We arrived early, with only Roma's front receptionist June in the office. "Good afternoon," she said in a sweet voice. "Andromeda should be here soon. She said to let you go on into the conference room."
We helped ourselves to more donuts, then waited in the conference room for everyone to arrive. Cassie came next, all bright and cheery. Ugh. I needed about a gallon more coffee before I could remotely be that awake.
Roma and Bran came in a few minutes later. "Okay," Roma said. "You're in?"
Rey nodded in unison with Carissa. "We're in. I'll come out, be the first."
Roma looked at me next. "That means we need you to come up with a concept for our first video."
Great. They needed me to be creative. "I'm gonna need more coffee."
Roma laughed but got me some. Then she loaned me a laptop and while they strategized about who, what, when, where, and all sorts of other stuff, I stared at the screen with my mind going nowhere. Groaning in frustration, I looked up to find myself in an empty office. "Um, hello?" When had they all left?
I poked my head out the door and looked left and right. There was a light coming from Roma's office, so I went that way and found her behind her desk, alone. Her blinds were up, and to my surprise, it was twilight. "How long did I sit there?" I asked, shocked.
She grimaced. "It's been about three hours."
"Did Rey leave?" I vaguely remembered him kissing me on the head and walking out of the office.
"Yeah, he went to the service for the wolf. Bran went with him. They'll be back anytime now."
I felt awful that I hadn’t been there to support him. Even if I hadn’t known the wolf, I had still cried over his death, and it wasn’t only about him. I wanted to be there for Rey and the rest of the pack to support them, but no one had even tried to break me out of my stupor.
I plopped down in a chair and put my head in my hands. "I'm so sorry, Roma. I can't believe how long I zoned out. And I got absolutely nowhere."
Roma smiled. "It's okay, Cathy. Sometimes you just need some space to think." She got up from her desk and walked to the window. "I think Reynard will be back soon." She looked back and winked at me. "I just saw his truck pull into the parking garage.” A couple of minutes later, she was proved right by Carissa, Bran, and Rey walking through the office door. All three looked like they'd been put through the wringer.
"Hey," Rey said warmly. "Did you make any progress?"
"No," I said flatly. "And I'm sorry, I was so focused. I would've gone with you."
"You wouldn't have been welcome." Carissa didn't sound cruel, though her words were harsh. "It was for his pack."
I glanced at Bran. How come he got to go?
Carissa rolled her eyes at the goblin, answering my unspoken question. "He's the king."
Ah. That made sense. "Well, it did me no good to be here. I haven't come up with a concept at all."
"Is your creativity still zapped?" Rey asked.
I nodded and shrugged. "We're at the mercy of Paul Cosby. Until he decides to give my creativity back, I'm going to be a deadweight."
Rey arched one eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"
Oh, yeah. We hadn't talked about my previous dates, not really. I'd just told him they'd been disasters. "My first three dates weren't great. One of them was with a muse, Paul. He stole my creativity. I was told it would come back gradually, but I haven't been able to do anything resembling art in any form since."
As Rey's face turned red, oh my, he was furious, Roma said, "Why does that name sound so familiar?"
"What do you mean he stole your creativity? Why didn't you tell me?" He slammed his fist on the table.
"I didn't want to worry you." I looked away, embarrassed that I'd kept this from him.
"No, oh, no. I'm not angry at you. Don't get that expression on your face. I'm furious that a muse dared do this to you." He shuddered, looking like he was barely holding his rage back.
