“Not at all.”

“Then come back here when you’re done and we can have our little interview. Okay?”

Seeming surprised the interview would still take place today, Toni nodded. “Oh . . . okay.”

Cella added, “You can find the player, Bert, down in the player’s locker room.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

Toni smiled at Ric and headed out.

“You going with her, Ricky Lee?” Dee asked Reed.

“Might as well.”

“Good idea since your sister is still looking for you.”

The wolf rolled his eyes and followed Toni down the hall. That’s when Ric looked at Cella.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Giving your not-really-a-cousin a shot at the big time.”

“Or a chance to get permanent facial lacerations.” Cella shrugged. “You say tomato . . .”

Ricky Lee waited for Toni to step on the elevator before following her in. He pressed the button for the floor where the team’s locker rooms were located.

“You spend a lot of time here, don’t you?” she asked him.

He nodded at Toni’s question. “Yep. My brother being one of the players gives me all sorts of access. Well, that and no one really asks me anything anyway.”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugged. “I just mean that I go where I need to and always make sure I look like I know where I’m going. People are less likely to bother you or question you as long as you appear to know where you’re going. It’s only when you wander around with your mouth open, staring up at the big buildings or trying to sort out office numbers, that people start wondering what the hell you’re doing. Thought it would only work here in the States, but it worked even when I was doing some work for the company in Japan, Italy, France.”

“Really? I’ve been to and sometimes lived in all those places with my family over the years, and I find that surprising. I mean, you’re just so . . . American.”

“Lord, I hope so. Being that I was born and reared here and all.” He chuckled as the elevator doors slid open. He waited for Toni to step out before he followed. “But I always looked like I knew where I was going. People may have watched me, especially in Japan. But no one ever questioned where I was going or stopped me from going there. It’s always worked to my benefit.”

“I’ll have to try it. I’m always getting stopped.”

They turned a corner and paused. Bert was just coming out of the locker room. He had a plain black duffel and a hockey bag for all his equipment.

They looked at each other.

“You know this is probably a setup, right?” Ricky asked her. “A test to see what you can handle.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Not sure what kind of test, though. Bert’s a real nice guy . . . for a bear.”

“He’s probably slipped onto a no-fly list or something and they want to see how I’d get past that.”

“You think you can?”

She grinned. “No problem. You sure you really want to tag along?”

“See you in action?” He returned her grin, enjoying himself immensely. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

Paul was relaxing on his couch with his eldest son, Cooper, watching bad mid-afternoon television and enjoying every day, average, father-son bonding.

“So how did your concert go in front of the prime minister?”

“Pretty good. You know how I like playing at the Colosseum. I’d just need Rome burning to feel like Nero.” He paused. “Except with a piano. So I guess Mom’s more like Nero. How about you? What have you been up to while I was away?”

“I rebuilt the motor in my Mustang. Then Freddy freaked out about something and Toni stopped him from setting fire to the house—which was good—but then he took the motor and the rest of the car apart when we were all asleep. I haven’t had the heart to go back into the garage since. But I have the SUV, so I can still get around.”

They continued to watch bad afternoon TV until the arguing from down the hall became so intolerable both men sighed and stood up at the same time. Together, father and son headed toward the arguing, but Paul already guessed where it was coming from. The large ballroom of the town house. It was the perfect place for a dancer to practice or a sculptor to sculpt or a painter to paint or a scientist to set up a lab. The list went on and on. And, in Paul’s estimation, the room was large enough for all of his children to practice their art or music or anything else they wanted to work on. It was an enormous room!

Too bad none of his brilliant progeny wanted to share.

They’d almost reached the ballroom entrance when Cherise skulked around a corner. Poor thing. She skulked a lot. Kept to the shadows. A brilliant cellist since she was six, Cherise easily lost herself in her music. But when she wasn’t playing, she was an easily frightened, constantly shivering She-jackal. It broke Paul’s heart. His daughter needed to find her strength. Jackals weren’t big and had no pack to call their own, but they did have each other. They had family. That was their strength. That’s what had kept jackals going in the wild for centuries. So Paul needed to find out what would bring his daughter’s natural strength out. He’d done it before with Toni by putting her in charge of Coop and Cherise when she was thirteen. He’d done it with the intention of keeping an eye on all three but letting his daughter feel what it was like to be needed, to feel important. And she’d taken that responsibility and run with it, helping him and Jackie to raise the most amazing children. Still, it was time for her to get out on her own. To live her own life. His Toni deserved that.