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“I will,” I lied and shoved the card into my pocket to keep her happy.
But I didn’t plan on changing my mind. I mean, I’d been using two legs my whole life, so I was pretty sure I could figure out how four of them worked without resorting to hiring some dude.
How hard could it be?
I spent the day with my folks. My mom helped me work on my shift, and with some practice I finally got those extra-long fingernails to disappear, thank fuck. By the time I left with a stomach full of beans and hot dogs and apple crisp, I was even more confident in my ability to figure this werewolf shit out on my own.
That confidence lasted until I reached the bottom of the stairs at my building, the same ones I’d been using for the past three years, and realized I had no idea how to climb them.
I placed one foot on the lowest step and immediately had to fight the urge to drop to all fours as my brain rebelled against my human form. I stayed like that, frozen with one foot on the bottom stair, for less than a minute, but it felt like a year.
This was some bullshit.
I took a deep breath and told myself I just needed to do this one time and then I’d be fine.
Probably.
I rolled my shoulders, heart racing, and launched myself up the stairs, taking them two at a time. Except as soon as my feet left the ground, my brain did that glitchy thing again, I was convinced I had paws, and I only made it up a couple of steps before I got tangled in my own feet, tripped, and tumbled back down again, landing on my butt. I hit the ground with a resounding thump that vibrated up my tailbone, and I had to sit there for a minute while my eyes watered and I nursed my wounded pride and aching ass.
I eyed the stairs again, but I knew when I was beaten.
I picked myself up off the ground and slunk into the elevator. It took me another five minutes to gather up the nerve to press the button that closed the door, and I spent the entire ride pressed up against the wall, whimpering and fighting the urge to pee in the corner. When the doors chimed and slid open, I lurched out of there like a zombie on crack.
Once I was back in my apartment, I slumped into an armchair. It took far too long for me to stop shaking and for my heart to stop trying to beat out of my chest.
Once I felt less like I was about to have a heart attack, I considered my options.
Obviously, my method of just pushing through and hoping for the best wasn’t going to work. All the willpower in the world hadn’t stopped me falling down the stairs, and I’d sooner poke myself in the eye than use the elevator again.
It was time to face facts.
I was going to have to suck it up and call Hunter fucking Madison, canine agility trainer.
CHAPTER 4
HUNTER
My new client was late.
I tapped the side of my empty coffee cup impatiently. Upbeat music played in the background and the cafe was warm and cozy, filled with the comforting scents of sugar and cinnamon and fresh baked pastries. Normally I enjoyed sitting here and soaking up the good vibes, but with every minute that passed, I found myself getting more and more annoyed.
Phoebe, the owner of Toe Beans, Hyde’s coffee shop, appeared at my table. “Waiting for someone?”
“A client,” I said, “but it looks like they need a remedial course in how time works.”
Phoebe laughed. “You can kick their ass when they get here. Now, how about a slice of pie while you wait?”
That did sound good, and Phoebe was one hell of a baker. “Yes, please.”
Phoebe was some kind of big cat shifter—she hadn’t told me which cat—and it showed in the way she moved. She stretched her arms over her head in a distinctly feline move, then sashayed over to the counter to get my pie.
“Thanks, Phoebe.” I took a bite and hummed with pleasure. The pie was incredible, and it went a little way to easing my irritation. But my annoyance came surging back when I was done eating and there was still no sign of my client. I checked the time again. The guy was almost thirty minutes late, and I was beginning to wonder if he’d show up at all.
Normally I would have left by now, but the guy was the son of Annabelle Forrest, one of the pack matriarchs as well as being one of the nicest women I knew. She’d been super welcoming when I moved to town, and she sent a lot of business my way, so I was willing to cut her son some slack as a favor to her. But I’d be making it damn clear to him that lateness wouldn’t be tolerated when it came to our training sessions.
If he ever bothered to show up, that was.
I checked my phone once more in case he’d messaged me, but nothing. But then, maybe he was one of those arrogant asshole werewolves who didn’t think twice about ghosting someone.
