“I don’t care. They belong to me, and like everything that I own, I decide their fate.”
“Of course, sir.” Aldrich allowed himself the luxury of rolling his eyes. “Is there anything else, sir?”
“The girl, Melody, make sure she does her job. I’ll expect an update on her progress the next time I call.”
Aldrich bit his lip. He’d like to say ‘Progress? What progress?’ but knew better. Greyson seemed to feel she’d do the job to his satisfaction. It was best to let the man have his way. If Greene messed up and blew the assignment, well...Aldrich would be able to whisper an ‘I told you so’ once his employer was out of earshot.
“And Aldrich? I’m holding you personally responsible for the success of this project.”
“But...!” Aldrich sat up straight, his feet hitting the floor and the chair squeaking in protest at the sudden movement. The injustice of the statement had him almost sputtering. It wasn’t fair. He hadn’t chosen the woman. If she failed, it wasn’t his fault.
“Ha! Made you sweat, didn’t I, Leon?”
Settling back in his seat, Aldrich sneered before answering, but his voice held no evidence of the fact. He hadn’t come this far, without being able to exercise considerable self-control. “Another of your jokes, sir.”
“Maybe. I’ll let you think about it while I’m gone.”
The phone went dead and Aldrich slowly set the receiver down. Greyson had to have been joking. There was no way he could be held accountable for that girl’s incompetence, especially since Greyson himself had hired her, despite his advice to the contrary.
Aldrich sat back in his chair and steepled his fingers. Greyson liked to play games with him, and this was, quite likely, one of them. Still, the old codger was unpredictable. Hmm... Just in case, he’d better pay extra attention to Ms. Greene and her assignment. She couldn’t be allowed to mar his impeccable record of service.
Chapter 27
Ryne glanced at himself in the side-view mirror as he bent down to accept payment for the gas he’d just pumped into the car. There was no sign that his nose had been broken the previous night. No bruising or swelling, and the bridge was as straight as it had ever been—thank goodness weres healed quickly. Daniel had done a good job dealing with him last night. His pack mate’s calm and logical manner had been what his angry wolf had needed. Ryne made a note to commend the boy—no, make that ‘man.’ Daniel was maturing and Ryne knew he needed to quit treating him as a kid, give him more responsibilities. As a matter of fact both Bryan and Daniel were quite competent. The problem was, being a small pack, in a quiet town; there really wasn’t a lot that needed doing and so they tended to slack off. Their occasional shifts at the lumber yard left them with a lot of free time. Maybe with the arrival of the new members...
He turned his attention back to the occupant of the car—Mrs. Swain—and accepted the money she handed him. She was eighty if she was day and the personification of a sweet old lady, down to her silvery grey hair, bifocals, and floral print dress. He always spent extra time chatting to her since he knew she lived alone.
“I heard all about you, you bad boy.” She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with merriment behind her thick glasses.
“And what did you hear?” He played along, knowing full well what was coming since every customer so far had said the same thing.
“You were fighting over that new girl in town.” She shook her head and tsked at him. “And here I thought you only had eyes for me.”
“Mrs. Swain, they are rumours, nothing but vicious rumours. You know I’m waiting for you to turn sixteen so I can start courting you.” He pressed a hand to his chest and tried to look besotted.
It must have worked for she giggled girlishly and patted his cheek before leaving. He watched her drive away, noting how she carefully looked both ways at the traffic light before sneaking through on the red with a slight squeal of her tires. What a little rebel, he chuckled to himself.
After depositing the money from the sale in the till, he returned to the service bay where he’d been changing tires. He’d only taken two steps into the work space when he froze. Over the smell of oil, tire rubber, and exhaust, he detected something else drifting in through the open bay doors. Melody. Her scent was sweet and feminine with just a hint of green apples. Turning, he saw her determinedly walking across the parking area towards him. Her jaw was set and tilted upward. In one hand she was tightly holding a steno pad, while the other seemed to have a death grip on the shoulder strap of her purse.