he’d had more classes on identifying shifters in their human form.
Another point in the favor of this being a social visit—the woman didn’t look anything like what Ben expected a female mobster would look like. She was middle-aged, short in stature, and round. Her cheeks, her face, her bust and her hips, all round and soft. She looked like a soccer mom. When she laughed, she threw her head back, her short brown bob swaying with the movement, her blue eyes sparkling. Honestly, she was the sort of person that if Ben had met her in another context, she would have immediately put him at ease.
Paul and Rylee smiled at the waiter as he took away their entrée plates and another waiter deposited the espresso Paul had ordered and Rylee’s caramel latte. Paul leaned back in his chair, his posture changing. Something in the way he was looking at Rylee told Ben that it was on. Whatever it was.
“Your last shipment was…lacking,” Paul said casually.
Rylee’s shoulders stiffened, though if Ben wasn’t looking for it—surreptitiously—he wouldn’t have noticed. Note, don’t play poker with criminals. “That’s your opinion.”
“It’s fact.”
“The product was in prime condition.”
“Some of it,” Paul conceded with a nod. “Most of it was uninspiring.”
Ben had no idea what they were talking about. Drugs? The kind of description they were using didn’t really fit drugs. Stolen artwork? That seemed a bit high-end for Paul. He wanted to seem classy, but the dude held meetings in strip clubs, for god’s sake. He and classy had only a passing acquaintance.
Oh…maybe guns. That fit better than drugs and artwork.
“My product was top quality, and you know it, Paul.” Rylee smirked as she dipped a biscotti into her coffee. “You’re trying to work me up so I’ll give you a better deal on the next one.”
Paul returned her smile. “You know me too well.”
“I mean, you’re more than welcome to try to do business elsewhere, but I guarantee you won’t get the quality of merchandise that I can provide.”
Ben looked around the room as he stuffed his frustration deep down. He couldn’t go back to the academy with only a vague idea of what they were talking about. Getting a name of Paul’s contact was good, but not as good as knowing what the fuck they were talking about.
He caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Someone had just ducked back behind a booth, too fast for Ben to identify anything about them. Before he could think his actions through, he was moving in that direction. When the head popped out again, with a phone held up, he grabbed the person’s arm and yanked them into view.
It was a young Asian woman, dressed in the uniform of the restaurant. Ben was pretty sure she was human. Her brown eyes were wide as she looked up at him, and she didn’t struggle.
“I’m sorry!” She pressed her lips together tightly for a second. “I’m really sorry. It’s just that—it’s Nathan Rashad’s mother.”
Ben frowned. “Who?”
“Oh my god,” she squealed. “Nathan Rashad. The winner of Canada Goes for Gold? The singing contest? Do you seriously not know this? How can you not know this?”
“Barrett? Who have you got there?”
Ben looked over his shoulder to see Paul’s other bodyguard, Valentin, had moved to stand between the threat and Paul. Paul was craning his neck around Valentin’s bulk.
Shit. Ben didn’t think Paul would get rid of an innocent human, but he wasn’t sure. Problem was, he couldn’t think of any way to get her out of the restaurant without blowing his own cover—and he couldn’t do that, not yet.
If there’s any sign she’s in danger…
“A Nathan Rashad fan, sir.”
“I see.” Paul smiled, but even from across the room, Ben could see his eyes didn’t reflect the expression. “Well, bring her over. I’m sure Rylee won’t mind saying hi.”
Ben glanced at Rylee to see her happy soccer-mom mask was back in place. “Not at all. Come here, dear.”
Ben released the girl’s arm and herded her over to the table. She was all but vibrating, she was so excited.
“Ma’am—Mrs. Rashad—it’s such an honor to meet you. I’m Nathan’s biggest fan and I couldn’t believe it when I saw you. I would have asked to be one of your servers, but I just came in a few minutes ago.”
Rylee took the woman’s hand in hers in a light grip. “Lovely to meet you, Miss…?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Lisbeth. Lisbeth Saito.”
“I’ll let Nathan know how excited you were to see me,” Rylee assured her