Riley's Curse, A Moon's Glow Prequel (12 page)

I was in Chicago, opening one of our
department stores. It was still my job to move from city to city to
open and train employees and family members. Then I'd move on to
the next town or city when they were capable enough to handle it on
their own. It was a perfect job for a werewolf that would never
age.

John took the list; the paper shook as his
hand almost touched mine. His hazel eyes, refused to look at
me.

"You are safe with me, I will not hurt you,"
I said to reassure him. His father had just told him the day before
what I truly was, and he was still a little apprehensive, which was
a shame. John and I had become friends a year ago when we broke
ground for the store. His father Emanuel was to run the business so
he didn't feel it was necessary for John to find out yet. Except
last week after Emanuel had broken his leg, he was forced to tell
his son the truth.

John took a deep breath and looked up at me,
as if searching for something. He was silent for several seconds
before a grin spread across his face. "I bet I'll still beat you,"
he said, his eyes held only a small amount of fear.

I laughed. He was referring to our ongoing
basketball games that we played during lunch in the parking lot.
"If I used all my reflexes John, you wouldn't even see me move." My
face was serious, and John's eyes widened in fear. But when I
slowly grinned, he smiled, giving me a friendly punch in the
shoulder. "Anyway, back to business. The first batch of applicants
will be coming in a few minutes, and I want you to familiarize
yourself with the questions. I don't want them to think I'm in
charge. I'm just your nephew, wanting to get some experience for my
resume." I paused as he glanced at the paper. "Can you handle
this?" For some reason his father worried he couldn't, but I had
faith in him.

He looked up at me and smiled. "Piece of
cake." He was twenty-five and the ink had barely dried on his
business diploma. But he had something a degree couldn't give him,
charm and ambition. With those two traits he would succeed. He
reminded me a little bit of my father.

A sharp knock sounded on the office door, and
John stiffened in his chair. I placed my hand on his shoulder.
"Breathe John. You can do this."

His smile was appreciative. "Thank you
Nathaniel." He took a deep breath and said, "Come in."

Mrs. Murphy, our plump, redheaded secretary
popped her head inside, bringing with her, the scent of cherries.
"There is a Miss Natalie Reed here to see you," she said glancing
between us. She didn't know my secret, but she had suspicions. I
was always cooped up in the office with all the department heads
and she often looked curious when someone would come to me with a
question. My usual response was that I'd ask my uncle Emanuel,
until we were behind closed doors where I could be myself. It was
difficult to keep up the ruse all the time.

John glanced down at the schedule that sat in
front of him on the shiny, mahogany desk. "Please send her in Mrs.
Murphy."

Her smile was warm as she nodded, and just
before closing the door, she gave me a wink.

I leaned back in my chair, stretching my jean
clad legs out in front of me as any eighteen year old boy would do,
and glanced one last time at John. He was organizing the papers on
his desk so he could see them all, and then straightened his blue
striped tie. He was wearing a navy blue pin striped suit, which was
a contrast to his pale blond hair--a Riley trait that most males in
the family inherit. His nerves were visible to me, until the door
opened. His smile was confident and welcoming as Natalie, a twenty
year old university student, entered the room.

She was tall and wiry, wearing a white
peasant blouse and a long flowing floral skirt. Her long
raven-black hair almost reached her waist, and she smelled like
cinnamon. "Mr. Riley?" she asked John, giving me a quick
uninterested glance.

"Yes," he said, taking the hand she stretched
out. "And this is my nephew, Nate." He gestured to me, with a
grin.

Once John leaned back in his chair, she shook
my hand, her face a neutral expression. Taking the chair in front
of the desk, she sat her bag on the carpeted floor next to her.

John cleared his throat, gazing down at the
questions I had given him, and then glanced quickly at her resume
that was also on the crowded desk. His face was an odd shade of
red. "So, Natalie, I see here that you worked on the corner?" I
coughed loudly, stifling a laugh. His eyes widened shooting me a
look that reminded me of a bug eyed gold fish. It only made me want
to laugh harder. Luckily, I was able to suppress it, shifting in my
seat. "I'm so sorry…I meant to say Corner's Grocery Store," he said
peeking up at her, his face flushed with embarrassment.

She simply smiled at him, ignoring me
altogether. "Yes, I had to quit when I started school, but I would
like something part time, and closer to the university."

"Okay…well…um," he stammered. This was not
good, and it was just going downhill. But even after his disastrous
beginning, I knew he could do this. I cleared my throat, in attempt
to let him know that I was here and to calm down. It was all I
could do. John paused and nodded, obviously in understanding.
"Would you say you are a team player?"

Natalie thought for a moment before
responding. "Yes, I would. I worked very well with others in all of
my jobs, and have lots of group settings at school where I am
studying to be a teacher."

His eyes flicked so quickly to the paper that
I knew she didn't notice. Only someone with my heightened sight
would. "What do you think is your best trait?"

She smiled, brushing her long, raven hair off
of her shoulder, her cinnamon scent stirred in the air. "My
personality. I am very friendly and often get to know the customers
by name."

"It says here you would like to work evenings
and weekends. How many shifts a week would you like to work?"

"Three if it's possible. Two weeknights and
Saturday would be ideal."

He went on, stiffly asking questions that she
answered well, smiling where appropriate, appearing serious and
confident when needed. Finally, with all the questions asked, we
all shook hands, and she left the office with a smile.

A few seconds after the door closed, John
stood up and shook his head. "God that was brutal. I can't do this,
Nate." I could sense his fear and embarrassment.

Sitting up in my chair, I said, "Yes you can,
you might not believe it, but I do. I have confidence in you."

"Why?"

"Because you're a Riley, we thrive under
pressure. Besides, you remind me of my father, and he was good at
everything."

My words must have convinced him, because he
sighed heavily. "Fine, call in the next one." He took his seat
while I opened the door to inform Mrs. Murphy that we were ready.
The door closed behind me with a soft click.

For the next hour we interviewed two men and
two women. Once the Natalie debacle was behind John, he seemed to
find his stride. After Stephen Peterson left, who was applying for
the hardware department manager's job, we took a break for lunch.
Instead of shooting hoops though, we went over the applicants. We
both agreed that Natalie would be a great asset but the other girl,
didn't have the experience we were looking for.

Just as I took the last bite of my sandwich,
Mrs. Murphy announced the next applicant. When the door creaked
open, I froze, all the hairs on my body stood on end. It was a
werewolf, and my first thought was Rowan, the second was to protect
John. I stood in front of him ready, fists clenched, body rigid.
Last time Rowan acted as a coward, going behind my back and killing
my father, this time he'd have to face me. "Stay behind me," I
growled. My voice had changed, it was deeper, wild sounding, and I
knew my eyes must have changed as well.

"Nate, what's wrong?" John asked just as a
teenage girl bounced into the office.

Her chestnut colored hair was tied in two
braids hanging over her shoulders. She was wearing blue hip huggers
and a pink knit top. Her chocolate brown eyes were wide, and her
nostrils flared as if she was sniffing the air. She was the
werewolf I smelled. Knowing Rowan was not in the building did
nothing to calm me. "John, can you excuse us please." My voice was
tense, but the growl had disappeared.

"What's going on Nate?' John's voice shook
with worry and confusion.

"Just go please."

He did as I asked, glancing curiously at the
girl.

When the door closed behind him, she smiled
widely. "Let me guess, you've never met another werewolf before."
She fell into the awaiting chair, crossing one knee over the other,
swaying her foot back and forth. She beamed up at me; her brown
eyes alight with secrets. She seemed so cheerful and not at all
like any werewolf I'd met so far, which was all of two. But maybe
this cute little girl act, was just that, an act.

"Who are you?" I asked accusingly, my eyes
narrowing.

She spun around in the chair, her grin still
on her face. "You have my resume, you already know my name." Her
voice was sweet and charming. I did not want to like this girl.

Her words confused me. "You're applying for a
job here?"

"What, you don't think werewolves have to
make a living? I have to eat don't I?" Again, her foot swayed back
and forth, distracting me.

"Do you know Rowan?" I asked, bringing my
attention back to her face, which was round, and cherub-like. I
watched her eyes for a spark of recognition. There was none, but I
wasn't convinced yet. And even if she didn't know him, I knew she
couldn't be trusted.

"Who?" she replied, her brow creased in
confusion.

"He is a werewolf that wants to harm me.
Don't tell me you don't know him."

Leaning forward she picked up the wolf
paperweight Emanuel had given me as a joke. She held it in her hand
and examined it quickly before returning it to its spot on the
desk. "I'm sorry but I don't. It's not as though every werewolf
knows each other."

"Fine, you don't know him, but you can't work
here."

Her eyes widened, a look of shock crossing
her face. "Why? Do you have a policy against werewolves? Because I
hate to tell you this, but you are one." Her innocent demeanor was
endearing, and quite frankly a little confusing.

My lip twitched, fighting a smile. "I am
aware of that, thank you." I opened my mouth to interrogate her
some more, when a knock sounded on the door. It was John. I could
smell his minty scent through the wooden door and I knew I couldn't
keep him out any longer. I took my seat once again. "Come in."

The door opened slowly, his head popped in,
his light hair falling into his hazel eyes. "Everything okay in
here?"

"Yes John, come on in."

He gazed at me, his eyes full of questions. I
shook my head, and he continued to his chair behind the desk. He
cleared his throat. "So, should I continue with the interview?"

Sadie replied, "Yes," at the same time I
said, "No."

The girls head spun around to face me.
"What?" she asked incredulously.

"You are not right for this job, I'm
sorry."

"Can you tell me why, what is your problem
with me?" She asked and then glanced at John who was leaning back
in his chair, looking confused.

I pressed my lips together, and closed my
eyes for a few seconds. I felt like I was dealing with a small
child who wouldn't behave. "Sadie, you know why," I replied when I
opened my eyes.

"No I don't. Enlighten me. What is your name
anyway?"

"It's Nate, and my reasons don't matter, I
can refuse to hire anyone I want."

Her gaze shifted from John to me. "Really?
Because,
you're
just a
teenager, he's the one in charge." She pointed to John. She was
really starting to irritate me. "What do you think Mr. Riley?" She
asked, her arms crossed in front of her. "You are the one in charge
here right?" Her words were challenging. She knew what I was, and
that I was more than I pretended to be, but she also knew that John
could not say anything.

John glanced at me, with a look that could
only be described as a deer in the headlights.

An exasperated sigh escaped my lips. "Fine.
Go ahead."

"Okay." John said, before he began the
standard questions.

Sadie was polite, giving all the right
answers, and then described her work experience, which was
impressive. If she was a normal teenage girl she'd be the perfect
part time help. But we both knew she wasn't.

"Well Miss Clark we will be in touch," John
said, shaking her hand at the end of the interview.

I remained seated, glaring at her.

She stood in front of me with her arm
stretched out, a pleasant smile on her lips.
Did anything bother this
girl?
I reached out to
take her hand. Her skin was warm and soft, until she squeezed. I
could feel the strength in her hand and fingers. The grip was not
hard enough to crush my fingers, but just enough to crack my
knuckles. Her expression did not change; the same sweet smile was
plastered on her face. My instinct was to squeeze back, but she was
just a girl, at least she appeared to be, and I was still a
gentleman. Instead I pulled my hand out of her strong grip, showing
nothing on my face that she had hurt my hand. I suppressed the urge
to shake my fingers.

She curtsied dramatically with her trademark
grin and then slipped out, leaving both my nephew and me gaping at
the closed door.

"What the hell was that about?" John asked,
his mouth hanging open.

I shook my head, bewildered by the girl. "You
don't want to know."