The Wolf in Sheep's Skin

Chapter 10

I drove us to Main Street in my little car, a simple hatchback with space for lugging product around in. As we pulled away from the house, Quinn dropped her bag to the floorboard and watched me.

“Are we gonna talk about it?”

“No.” I snapped, then realized she couldn’t know about my nightmare. “What do you mean?” I scowled just thinking about last night. My hands tightened around the steering wheel, making my knuckles turn white.

“The party.” She raised her brows and crossed her arms.

“Can it wait till we get to the shop, so I don’t have to repeat myself to Maeve?”

“Fine. Can we get donuts from Mr. Ridely’s?” She asked in a chipper voice.

I parked the car behind our shop, The Silver Thread Boutique. We walked alongside the building and stopped next door at the donut and coffee shop and picked something up for Maeve as well.

Main Street was an old timey road with a single stoplight. Brick buildings with fancy facades lined the street, with beautiful iron streetlights. Planters dotted the street with flashy arrays of flowers, all in different colors. Pack members walked along the streets doing their Sunday shopping. Main Street was the closest thing the pack had to a town, with a few shops like the bookstore, a barber, and a single dinner that was open 24/7.

Our shop was smack in the middle of the street, with a coffee shop on one side, and a bakery on the other. As far as I knew, humans never ventured out here. It was like a safe place for the pack to walk around.

Quinn and I went into the shop through the back door.

“Maeve! We’re here!” I shouted and set the coffee and donuts down on the register counter. Footsteps came from above as Maeve walked around. The shop was three stories, with the first floor being the storefront, the second being storage and where I made the dresses, and the top floor was a little apartment.

Maeve had tried giving me the apartment, but I insisted she take it. I needed the fresh outdoors of our parents’ home, and I knew she would resent living with them. It wasn’t ideal bringing men home to a house full of kids and your parents.

Maeve rushed downstairs, huffing and puffing.

“Where have you been? What happened last night, we waited for you! I was worried sick!” Maeve pointed her finger at me, and her face was red. My cheeks warmed and guilt filled my gut.

“I should’ve called you. Thank you both for grabbing my dress.”

“A voicemail would’ve been nice!” She grabbed a cup of coffee off the counter and took a long swig. Maeve climbed onto the stool we had behind the counter and pointed at me. “Now, the important stuff. Who was that man?” She bobbed her head around while she talked.

“I don’t want to talk about him.” I groaned and went to the store’s front windows. “Help me clean up; we open in fifteen minutes.”

“The store is clean and don’t ignore this. I have never seen you get so worked up by a man like that.” Maeve said and I fluffed the dresses we had on display.

At least we’re not talking about my rampage through the woods or the awful rendition of her birthday party.

I scowled at the thought of telling her about my nightmare. She’d been so little, she barely remembered the whole thing. Anytime it was brought up, she shut down.

There’s a reason no one gets blue icing on their cake. I plastered a smile on my face and focused on her topic of choice.

“I’ve never had a man be so rude to me like that.” Or in general, for that matter. I frowned at the white lacy dress that faced Main Street and adjusted the mannequin’s head.

“But you liked him before that, didn’t you? You walked right up to him.” Maeve squinted at me, and I sighed, knowing she wouldn’t let this go.

“We’d interacted earlier, I… it was st*pid.” I went to the other window, which had a flowy mint green dress on display.

“Wait, when did you talk to him?” Quinn asked.

I told them about our encounter, leaving out my inner thoughts and how much I’d wanted to touch him. By the time I’d finished, all the dresses on display had been properly fluffed and were ready for viewing. The longer we talked, the more my hands stopped shaking and my stomach calmed down.

Maeve eyed me, tapping a finger on the counter. A large, frightening grin crossed her face, and she pointed at me.

“You liked him. That’s why you went back up to him.”

“I was being polite.”

“No, I know you. You let men come to you. But you approached him; you liked something about him.” Maeve laughed like she’d caught me doing something naughty and I glared at her.

“He did look pretty good.” Quinn added and Maeve snapped her finger.

“I can’t believe it! You thought he was hot, didn’t you?” Maeve looked at me with bright, hopeful eyes.

“Whole lot of good it did me.” I mumbled under my breath. Both of them burst out laughing and my cheeks burned.

“You did! Oh, give me all the details. What do you like about him? The beard, the hair, what is it?” Maeve waved a hand at me, and Quinn laughed.

“You act like I’ve never talked about being interested in men before!”

“You never bring it up!”

“Of course I do; I notice when men look good. I just think there are more important things, like good personality and manners.” I stuck out my chin and crossed my arms.

Quin leaned over the counter and threw her arm over her head. “Quick, pass me the smelling salts! I feel a tad faint, what doth a man do to me?” Quinn mocked in an old-fashioned voice, like I was some woman from the 1800s wearing a chastity belt.

They howled with laughter and Maeve slammed her hand on the counter. She held her stomach as she laughed, and Quinn bounced. Their laughs were strangled as they struggled for air.

I tried to think of something snarky to say, but I couldn’t. A smile crept to my lips as I watched them.

At least I don’t have to pretend to be submissive around family.

Maeve looked at me, with her face red and tears streaming down her cheeks. “When are you two going on a date?” She coughed out.

“I am not dating that man! Didn’t you hear what he said? He was rude, and-“

“I saw the way he looked at you.” Maeve cleared her throat and stopped laughing. I growled, baring my teeth.

“So did everyone else! He was vulgar and disrespectful and-“

The little bell above the door rang. We all snapped our mouths shut and whipped around to stare at the door.

The older lady in the vintage gown from last night stepped in. She wore a vibrant pink silk dress, a matching big hat with a feather in, and a garment bag was hung over her arm.

“Am interrupting something?”

“Not at all; how can we help you?” Maeve jumped up and went over to her.

“I have this vintage gown that needs repairs. I’ve worn it out and some of the jewels are missing.” She met Maeve in the middle of the store and handed the bag to her.

“Let’s see what we can do.” I took the dress from Maeve and hung it on a stand next to the counter.

We’d set up the store with two separate rooms where customers could change, get fitted, or try on dresses, either with a party or with a group. Each room had brick walls and wooden floors, but we’d added as many bright white details as we could to make it feel more modern.

I had the woman, whose name I learned was Eleanor, up on a pedestal in the center of the room, with a large three panel mirror nearby so she could look at herself. I sat on a little stool, wheeling around her, or stooping and bending to look at the dress.

We were in the bigger of the two rooms, and there were two fluffy white chairs in the corner, along with a little table with magazines on it. I’d put her in the bigger, better room with a few lush potted plants around.

The dress didn’t fit well anymore, so I had pins between my lips as I gathered fabric, marking where I’d need to make changes.

“I got this dress fifty years ago as a gift. Can you believe it? I’ve kept it all these years. When you told me about your store, I knew I needed to get it fixed. My mate loves me in this dress.” She twisted and posed in the mirror, pulling the fabric out of my hands.

This fabric is so thin, I wish she’d let me make her a new one just like it. She’d refused when I’d suggested it, like I spat on the gown.

People came in and out of the shop and the phone rang off the hook. Quinn answered call after call, and I desperately wanted to be out there helping. I told her last night to make a reservation.

I sighed and frowned, keeping the pins carefully in place between my lips.

Restoring a dress like this brings in a lot of revenue. I have to make her happy. I put the last pin in and stood.

“How do you like the fit?” I adjusted the dress while she gazed in the mirror.

“You can add more stones?”

“Yep, the ones I showed you. You’re still happy with them?” The gown was emerald, with green with stones to match. Finding jewels that matched exactly would’ve been a pain if I hadn’t already had them.

“Yes, dear. We’ll see how you do.” Eleanor held out her hand, and I helped her down. I had to help her out of the dress to make sure she didn’t stab herself with the pins, but mostly so she didn’t mess up where I’d marked.

I stepped out of the room, giving her privacy. Multiple groups of women shuffled around the store, looking at dresses we had hanging on racks. I sighed in relief and flashed Quinn a smile.

Opening the shop had been a massive risk. At the other pack, we’d operated out of my house. It saved on bills and made moving easy. We’d been successful in other packs and could anticipate our income. Here, we had to gut the building before we could open. Everything but the wood floors and brick walls had to be replaced.

The shop paid for everything. My family’s house, food, utilities. When I’d taken over from my mom, I’d promised she wouldn’t have to work anymore. She and my dad got to enjoy old age, taking care of their kids, just like werewolves should. But now we’d burned through savings and loans stacked up as we remodeled.

Eleanor came out behind me, and I took her dress to the back and put it in a secure location. I popped behind the counter and started a work order.

“How much do I owe you, dear?” She shuffled through her purse.

“No payment is due until the work is finished.” I typed on the keyboard, and Quinn hung up the phone after taking some notes.

“Not even a deposit?”

“No deposit; I’ll call to have you come in to check the fit before I add stones.

“Can you do this one?” Quinn slid a dress pattern book over to me. I focused on the computer and kept typing.

“I can do any of them, Quinn.”

“That’s a lovely dress. What’s the occasion?” Eleanor lady asked, leaning over the counter.

“Gwen’s promised to make my Coming-of-Age gown.” Quinn turned the book around, showing her the book.

“How beautiful, and what a special occasion! How long until you’re sixteen?”

“Three weeks.” Quinn beamed at her.

“And she still hasn’t decided on a pattern. I told her she has to pick by tonight.” I grumbled and clicked ‘print,’ on the file. The computer spit out a sheet, and I handed it to the woman. “I’ll give you a call when it’s done to have you come in.”

“You can really make this?” The woman pointed to the book. It was a strapless ballroom gown, poofy, but stopped inches above the ground. Intricate detailed jewels on the bodice shined in the picture. A smaller image in the corner showed off a corset back.

Not what I imagined Quinn would pick, but it was a stunning gown.

I’ll lose sleep making that dress on such short notice, but if that’s what she wants, that’s what she’ll get.

“I have a few over there like this. Not as detailed, but I can do it.” I nodded, and Eleanor glanced at the racks I’d pointed to.

The little bell above the door rang and Olivia stepped inside. She lifted big, gaudy sunglasses onto her forehead. She swayed inside, and my skin prickled.