She tossed several dollar bills on the table to cover the cost of her 99 cent coffee and a tip, and as she did, she realized that Flint’s secretary Velma was walking towards her, holding a manila folder.
Velma pasted a smile on her face and held the folder out. “Mr. McCoy sincerely apologizes, but he was called away on an emergency. I have several professional pictures in here for you to use, and a copy of his resume, and I’ve written up a description of his plans for Sweet Stuff. And he insists on paying for your breakfast. Also, he’d like to arrange for you and your photographer to tour the site of the new factory. Would today be convenient?”
Wow. That was quite the brushoff.
Coral stood up abruptly, with as much dignity as she could muster with her stomach rumbling, and slid out of the booth. She ignored the folder.
“Don’t bother,” she said coldly. “Please tell Mr. McCoy that I’m disappointed, because I’d heard that the McCoys were bears of their word. Apparently I heard wrong.”
That was a low blow, bringing his family into it, but he deserved it, and she hoped it stung. She had a feeling it would; he was reputed to be very close to his family.
She turned and walked out of the restaurant, with Velma following behind, spluttering protests. She climbed in her car and slammed the door shut, with Velma still standing there holding out the folder.
Furious, she drove the few blocks to the newspaper, where she stalked in and tossed her purse on the desk. Frederick was already there, sitting at his desk, editing pictures on his computer.
“Good morning, Frederick. How am I doing, you ask? I hate my life, that’s how I’m doing.”
“Wow, you’re awfully bitter for first thing in the morning. Usually it takes you ‘til quitting time to start the full on self-pity wallow. What’s up?”
“That stupid bear shifter was supposed to meet me for breakfast for an interview so I could do a stupid puff piece on him, and he never showed. He sent his secretary with a copy of his resume instead.”
“You seem awfully cranky considering it’s a stupid story that you don’t even want to write. I noticed that you kept his picture open your computer ever since you got here. Are you sure there’s not a little more to it than that?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Shut up, is all I have to say about that.” She turned back to her computer with a glower, and he turned back to his computer with a smug look.
Of course, he wasn’t going to let it go that easily. “If you want some distraction, you know where to look. Once you’ve gone coyote, you’ll never go back.” He turned her way and waggled his eyebrows hopefully, a leer stretching across his face.
She wasn’t even going to dignify that with an answer. And no, she did not have a crush on the big dumb bear. Okay, maybe a teeny little crush. It was probably just as well that he’d stood her up, because she sensed that spending any time in his presence could be dangerous. Not because of his height, or his fangs, or his claws, or his massive strength. She feared the way he made her heart pound faster.
Bettina waved at her and walked over. “I didn’t over-water my plant today. It hasn’t started dying again. Thanks for the tip.”
Frederick swiveled his chair to face Bettina. “I’ve got a good tip for you. Coyote shifters are in right now. Once you go coyote, you’ll never go back.” He winked and leered at her.
Fortunately for Frederick, small town girls apparently fell for lines like that. Bettina tittered, blushed red, and scampered back to her desk.
Coral leaned forward and grabbed Frederick’s shirt collar.
“What the-urk!” he gurgled.
“Bettina is a nice girl. And she actually kind of likes you. If you hurt her, you will make me very angry. You wouldn’t like me when I’m angry.” Coral let her wolf face ripple over her, fangs briefly descending, before she let Frederick go and he fell back in his chair.
“She likes me?” he said in wonder, as if the thought had never occurred to him.
“Living proof that there’s no accounting for taste.”
“So, by the way, you’ve got good news and bad news,” Frederick added. “Which would you like first?”
“Oh, give them both to me. I’m a big girl, I can take it. Don’t make any fat jokes or I’ll hit you.”
“You are a vivacious vision of voluptuousness. Okay, your crazy old lady friend from yesterday is heading in the front door, and you are covering a bachelor auction tonight. I get to go with you.”
Coral looked at him. “I thought there was supposed to be good news in there somewhere.”
“The bachelor auction? You get to ogle a couple of dozen handsome men?”
She sighed impatiently. She wasn’t in the mood to check out hot men. Her self esteem had just been stomped on, and she couldn’t stop thinking about the bear. And she wanted to be covering real news stories, not more fluff.
“Why isn’t the society page reporter covering this?” she grumbled.
“Stomach flu,” Frederick shrugged, and turned back to his computer.