I sink into a chair at the kitchen table and kick off the evil black patent leather high heels. What a poor choice they were.
Mémé sits down beside me. "I'm waiting."
I blow a raspberry. "Not well. I screwed up, actually. Big time, Mémé. The power went out while I was in the elevator."
"No." Mémé gives an exaggerated gasp and covers her mouth in the animated way only people of her generation still employ. Mémé knows about my claustrophobia. She can probably guess its origin, although we never discuss my parents' profession or my former illegal activities.
"And I got stranded in there with Jackson King-the Jackson King."
Mémé gives me a blank look.
"He's the founder of SeCure. But I didn't know it was him-it was dark. And I said some not-so-flattering things about him."
Mémé looks sympathetic. "Ah. That's too bad, ma petite fille." She pats me on the shoulder and stands up. "I'm sorry. I'll get you some soup."
Of course. Because food fixes everything, doesn't it? Mémé's cooking is as good as therapy. She moved in after my dad died, and, for a few months, her crepes were the only reason I got out of bed.
Mémé moves to the stove and ladles the hot broth liquid into a bowl. Today's fare is French onion, my favorite. Mémé serves the rich brown broth with a baguette and Swiss cheese.
"Careful, it's hot."
I grin up at Mémé. After Maman died, I spent my entire childhood taking care of my dad-trying to keep him out of jail as he played Robin Hood, stealing from the rich to right the wrongs of the world. After all those years, it's sweet to be coddled by Mémé. Though she's tough when she has to be. I wouldn't have finished college if she hadn't convinced me. I'd always taken online courses-just for fun. But she insisted I take classes above board, from the same college and finish a degree. Get the diploma and put myself in the real world, even if it was under a false identity. So I did.
But I still barely have a social life. I'm too used to being a loner, keeping my secrets hidden. After what happened-after my father's… Jesus. I still can't think about it without a searing pain in my chest. His murder. His betrayal and cold-blooded fucking murder. Yeah. After that, I stopped all illegal activity. I erased our identities, not that Dad and I had ever been on the grid anyway. I went legit. With Dad's double-crossing murderer looking for me, I hid in plain sight, as an ordinary American citizen.
The heists were my parent's gig, anyway. They'd been a regular Bonnie and Clyde. But mom died in a car accident when I was eight, so I became Dad's new partner. I'd refused to leave his side, even though he would have preferred I sit safely in a boarding school or with Mémé in Paris. But his vigilante Thieves for Justice thing wasn't my calling. I just liked to hack.
That's how Mémé talked me into taking my current job for the gaming company. But I'm barely tied to the real world. I rarely leave home. I don't date or have any close friends. In some ways, I'm still Catgirl, lurking in the shadows.
Maybe that's why the elevator encounter threw me so much. I've never been touched by a man, much less a hottie like Jackson King. Frightening, how easily he breached my walls.
My cell phone buzzes, and I grab my purse to rummage for it. A SeCure number. "Hello?"
"Hi Kylie, it's Stu, from SeCure."
"Hi Stu." Brilliant K-K, really brilliant.
"I'm calling to let you know we were impressed with your skill set, and we'd like to offer you the job."
"Really?" Part of me wants to fist-pump the air in triumph. I gave the worst impression ever, and I still got the offer. Take that, Interviewing for Dummies.
The rest of me is skeptical.
"There's no second interview or anything?"
"Nope. You scored 100 percent on the test, and management liked you."
"Management?" He can't mean King.
"Yeah, Luis thought you were great. So the HR department will call you with the real offer, but I have permission to discuss salary with you. We're offering one hundred thirty-five thousand dollars plus moving expenses. Full health and dental insurance, profit sharing, and stock options add another third to the salary package."
Er... wow. I smile at Mémé, nodding. It's fifty K more than I make at the moment, and I never expected them to foot the bill for moving. Probably too good to be true. But I can't turn it down. "Thank you, that sounds great."
"So you'll accept the offer?" He sounds enthusiastic.
I should play hard to get, but fuck it. "Yeah. Absolutely. I'm thrilled."
"Great. HR will send you a written offer tomorrow. How soon can you start?"
"I don't know... a month?"
"I was hoping two weeks," Stu says.
"Really? That's pretty fast."
"We are paying for relocation, so that will simplify the move for you."
"Is two weeks a requirement?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll be there," I say.
"Great. We'll finalize the paperwork tomorrow. Welcome to the team."
I hang up and beam at Grandmere. "I got the job!"
Mémé throws her arms around me and kisses my temple. "That's wonderful! Congratulations."
I accept the hug, wondering what King thinks of my hire. At least he didn't veto it. That shouldn't excite me as much as it does.
Jackson
I sense the moment Kylie enters the building. Even if I hadn't already known it was her first day at SeCure, I wouldn't have missed her presence. My wolf senses prickle. A growl rises in my throat. Swallowing it back down, I move from my desk and pace to the wall-to-wall windows, gazing out at the Catalina foothills. My collar is suddenly too tight. I want to shed my clothes, take my wolf form. I want to run. To howl. To hunt.