Jess snorted, fighting hard to keep in her laugh. Damn him! He always could make her laugh. Like when he’d found her hiding in an air duct that time after the Friday homecoming bonfire. She’d planned on staying there the whole night until the liquor wore off with Sissy’s She-bitches. But he’d coaxed her out with jokes and the promise of one of those giant Hershey bars. Then he made sure she got home safe.
Years later and he was still trying to protect her. Except now she didn’t need it.
“I’ve gotta go, Bobby Ray.” She was glad he couldn’t see her face. Her smile would do nothing but prompt his continued efforts. “Don’t call me again. Don’t try and ‘help’ me. Just get on with your life—and be happy.”
When he didn’t say anything, Jess disconnected the call, glanced at her watch, and went right back to work.
Smitty walked back to the surveillance truck, Jessie’s last words to him playing again and again in his head.
His sister sat on the edge of the truck floor, her back against one of the open doors. They had a job this evening involving some foreign businessmen, but so far all had been calm. The perfect job, really. Low on danger, high on payment.
“Break time?” he asked.
Sissy sipped coffee and nibbled on coffeecake. “Yes, I’m not lazing off.”
“I just asked.”
“It was the way you asked.” Sissy watched him for a moment. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“You’ve got a weird look on your face.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“If you must.”
Smitty took her coffee and sipped it. “Do you care if I’m happy?”
“No.” Sissy took her coffee back. “And get your own.”
“Fine.” He swiped up her slice of coffeecake, and as she made a wild grab for it, he shoved the entire thing into his mouth.
“There,” he said, making sure he spit crumbs at her. “I got my own.”
CHAPTER 7
Smitty had just begun to sign paychecks when Mace walked in his office.
“Do you know anything about this art museum job that just called?”
“Nope. What art museum job?”
“They want us tonight.”
“Not enough time,” Smitty answered, not looking up from the paychecks in front of him.
“We need to make enough time.”
“Why?”
Mace laid a slip of paper on top of the checks he’d been signing.
Smitty stared. “Huh. Look at all those zeroes.”
The cat grinned. “Yeah, just look at ’em.”
“Where’d this job come from anyway?”
“An old tiger who’s on the board for the museum told me he was strongly urged to hire us for tonight’s charity event.”
“Urged?”
“Strongly urged.”“By... ?”
Mace shrugged, already walking off to start pulling the team together. “Some guy named Phil.”
Smitty stared down at the checks still needing to be signed. “Phil who?”
Jess took off her coat and handed it over to the girl behind the counter. Then she did what she’d been doing for the last hour—she tugged down the hem of her dress again. If you could call it a dress. It was more of a slip for an underdeveloped twelve-year-old.
“I can’t believe you talked me into this damn dress,” she muttered to Phil, slamming him with her shoulder. “I’m at a charity event, but I feel like I should be offering fifty bucks for a hand job and hundred bucks for a half and half.”
“No, sweetie. The way you look? It should be a hundred bucks for the hand job and three hundred for the half and half.”
Jess glared at him so hard that eventually he started to squirm.
“If it helps, the shoes look great.”
Tossing up her hands in exasperation, she stormed off into the main area of the museum. The sooner she got in and mingled, the sooner she could get the hell out.
Smitty smiled an apology and quickly walked away from the full-human female who’d just offered to give him a blow job in the bathroom. Good Lord! These rich women were... scary. He’d had all sorts of interesting offers in the last two hours from women dripping in diamonds and platinum. One woman propositioned him with her husband only a few feet away. Smitty got the distinct feeling that if he’d taken her up on the offer, the husband would have been in some other room watching. Well, whatever got your rocks off. Although Smitty never could figure out why you’d marry someone if you were willing to share her.
He walked up to Mitch and let out a breath. “Have you been—”
“Offered sex every time I turn around? Yeah. I tell ya, full-human females have their place.”
“Dez is full-human and Mace had to work to get her. I think it’s a money thing. The more money they have, the less vulnerable they feel. We’re just cocks, son, and don’t you forget it.”
“I don’t. And I don’t care, but I learned the hard way you don’t fuck around during work. It leads to all sorts of trouble.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
Marissa Shaw, Mitch’s older sister, Mace’s twin, and one of the stranger lionesses Smitty had known, slid to a graceful stop in front of the pair.
“Smitty.”
“Marissa, darlin’. You are looking gorgeous this evening.”
She reached up and petted his cheek. “Aren’t you just the sweetest canine.” She glared at her brother. “Loser.”
“Fat ass.”
The pair snarled at each other before Marissa walked away.
“I thought you two were getting along better.”
Mitch stared at him blankly. “We are. Can’t you tell?”
Smitty shook his head as his eyes swept around the giant room. They were in the Italian Renaissance room. Whatever. It paid well.
“Holy mother of God.”
Smitty’s body tensed, anticipating trouble. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Not a goddamn thing.”
Following Mitch’s avid gaze, Smitty turned and his entire body tensed. “Lord help me.”
Jessie Ann walked into the room with her four friends behind her. Apparently, the rest of the Pack banged out of this little event. Of course, as much as the tickets for this cost per person, Smitty didn’t blame them for not including the whole gang. Still, Jessie had definitely come up in the world—right along with her skirt length.
Good Lord! What was the woman thinking? It was a freezing New York night, and dammit, there were decency laws! Where the hell was the rest of that dress? And why wasn’t she in her jeans, tennis shoes, and T-shirt? Why was she damn near naked?
“Think if I asked her nice she’d marry me?”
“Get control of yourself, cat. We’re on a job.”
“I quit.” Mitch started to walk over there and Smitty yanked him back by the hair.
“Sweep the area, son, before I get cranky.”
“Fine, but you don’t stand a chance in hell either. If memory serves, she shot your ass down like a jet over enemy territory.”
“Sweep. The. Area.”
With one last look at Jess that almost got him popped in the face, Mitch walked off.
Smitty thought about going over there that second, if for no other reason than to throw a coat over her, but he knew better. Jessie was a “runner.” One of those dogs that would take off running for no real reason and suddenly find themselves in Utah. So, taking a deep breath, and with one last look at those legs, he buried himself in the crowd of people.
Jess had been listening to the conversation between Marissa Shaw and the head female of the Stark hyena Clan for the past ten minutes and she was starting to get really pissed. Her Pack knew it too. They stood around her, waiting for her to do something. True, the whole thing wasn’t any of her business, but still...
“So this canine your brother is living with,” said Madeline Stark as she shoveled yet another pâté-covered cracker in her mouth. “Does she sit on command? Fetch his slippers? Roll over and beg when appropriate?”
Madeline’s four boneheaded sisters and cousin continued snickering, sounding like that cartoon dog Muttley.
What Jess found really funny was that they were all neighbors. The Pack’s Long Island property butted right up against Marissa Shaw’s and the Stark Clan’s territories. Yet, they never got along. True, the Pack tolerated Marissa to a degree, but they never tolerated the Starks. Wild dogs hated hyenas.
Jess’s eyes focused on the back of Madeline’s neck as she continued to mock the canine universe. She had her light brown hair swept up off her shoulders and in an elaborate knot on her head. Giving Jess all that long neck to play with.
Facing her Pack, Jess started coughing. Phil caught on first, grinning and turning toward the table. His wife joined him, the pair taking a small white cocktail napkin and shredding it. Still coughing, Jess stepped closer to Phil and he placed the tissue in her hand. Danny glanced around and then poured water on the shreds, getting it good and wet.
Jess turned back around, still supposedly hacking up a lung. She walked up behind Madeline and let out a cough that had Marissa tensing and looking at her. That’s when Jess let that wet, messy napkin fly. It hit the back of Madeline’s neck and the woman froze in mid-mock.“Oh!” Jess said, clearing her throat. “Oh, my God! Madeline! I’m so sorry. Here, let me help you clean that off.”
Horrified, the woman reached back and touched the wet tissue on her neck. Unable to see it, she could only feel it. As soon as her fingers brushed it, her body began to shake and she retched violently before she took off running toward the bathroom, her sisters and cousin following behind. Following and laughing hysterically.