Filthy rich werewolves by Taylor Caine novel Chapter 24

“She’s special to you,” Jay says when I come inside and lock the door behind me.

“Yes.” I take a seat back at the kitchen table and stir my cup of tea. It’s long gone cold but the motion settles me.

“When I was in prison,” I say quietly, “Lina would visit.” The first day of the month, she was there, no matter what.” I never actually went to greet her. I didn’t want her to see me or to experience that room with all the other inmates. But I’d see her arrive and waiting in that room. And for me, just knowing she was there. It was enough.

I don’t know if I would have made it through my time without her.

“She’s a good friend,” Jay says.

“Yes.”

Over the next few days, my workload increased tremendously, as the management staff from Sanitation Service Center would be coming over for inspection. Most days, I have to work overtime.

Fortunately, when I go home, Jay would have prepared dinner and he’d be there, a steady, calming presence waiting for me. I always told him not to wait for me, to eat while the food is hot, but he insists on waiting for me to arrive.

He insists on us eating together.

It’s sweet.

Early in the morning, after cleaning the streets I’ve been assigned to, I return to the Sanitation Service Center. After putting away my tools, I go outside to stand on the lawn in front of the entrance. My coworkers are all lined up too.

After a while, the inspectors from the Urban Management Bureau arrive.

My skinny body stands out among the group of middle-aged women.

"You're Grace!" When the inspectors reached the Sanitation Service Center, a young woman shouts out when she sees me.

She’s in a light-blue suit and has her hair up in a bun. Her face is round and her eyes narrow. She’s pretty. I’m stunned for a minute before I recognize my high school classmate, Mia Jenkins.

“It's you!" Mia looks at me in amazement and then she asks, "Why are you here? Are you now... a sanitation worker?"

"Yes, I work here," I reply. I don’t look away from Mia's gaze. This is my life and I’m not going to live it each day feeling ashamed.

It’s honest work.

"Mia, do you know each other?" her colleague who had come along with her asks.

"That's right. From high school. Back then, Grace was the prettiest girl in the class and our valedictorian! Many guys in our class liked her and but Grace was always focused on her education." Mia deliberately praised me to the skies.

The more she did that, the more it showed the contrast to my current situation.

As expected, the colleague frowns, commenting, "Was she the prettiest girl in the class? You must be kidding!"

I tense. I’m not ignorant of the undercurrents here. Back then in class, a lot of students were envious of me. They didn’t realize that I had to make good grades. If I didn’t make something of myself, I would let my grandfather down. And my father…he only took notice of me when I finally reached first in my class. And I wasn’t aloof because I thought myself better than anyone. I am a wolf and we limited our human friendships.

“Oh yes,” Mia says. “Our Grace was quite the swan.”

Right. And the ugly duckling is now the supervisor, while the swan is sweeping the streets.

As my colleagues overhear the conversation with my former ‘friend,’ they turn to look at me with different expressions on their faces. Some look surprised, others appear sympathetic. A few women snicker and point.

So it isn’t a surprise when I’m cornered by one of those laughing coworkers, Farah Steele, the next day.

I’m busy organizing some tools in the supply department when she sweeps in. She leans on her elbows on the countertop. “So, everyone’s been talking about the visit yesterday.”

“Oh?” I pretend not to know what she’s talking about.

“Is it true what she said, about you being the prettiest and smartest?”

I don’t reply.

Farah snorts. "What's the use of being the prettiest girl in the class or being super smart? Obviously, that couldn’t be true—or you wouldn’t be here."

I sign my name on the logistics record book and turn to leave.

Claire catches up to me and pats my hand. ”Don't take Farah's words to heart. She's venting her anger on you because she likes Gus from the Fleet."

I’m puzzled. I have no idea who Claire is referring to or what Gus has to do with her.

"Gus is one of our drivers and he seems interested in you. He always greets you," Claire explains. "Gus is a nice guy, and the Center has plans for him. His parents have also bought him a house for his marriage. You may wish to consider accepting him."

Accepting him? “Are you matchmaking, Claire?” It’s rather nice of this older woman to want to set me up. Not that I’m interested. But still, the gesture is kind. Unlike Farrah or Mia, who see my failings as something to make fun of.

“I, uh, appreciate it, Claire, but no thanks. I have no intentions of getting into a relationship."

Claire frowns. ”You're young now, but as a woman gets older, it will become more difficult to find a partner."

"In that case, I shall remain single," I say.

Honestly, a relationship is the last thing on my mind. It’s been that way since I got out of prison. Sean had pledged to love me.

To mate me.

He knew I was pregnant.

And then the accident happened.

And he rejected and deserted me.

My eyes burn at the thought.

Not for him.

Never again for him—or any man.