Chapter 2: Laurel

Laurel made her way back to her corner office and allowed a quick glance out the window. It was
August, too early for snow even this high up. Too early for tourists, too, and she was grateful for that. In
fact, she caught herself leaning toward the glass. The urge to blow off everything and just disappear
into the summer foliage for a few blissful hours was an ache in her chest.

Her reflection in the tinted glass made her frown. Out of habit, she smoothed her skirt suit and took
inventory. Her heels were low, practical but not flashy. Her suit was tailored nicely but still didn’t hide
the fact that she was curvier than she’d like. Then again, it kept most of the pervs at bay. Apparently
not Jones, though.

Her blazer pulled taut at the single button below her cleavage, but she left it clasped, knowing how
casual she’d appear otherwise. Her dark brown hair had started out hanging in a glossy ’do parted on
the side, but now it was tangled where she’d run her hands through it too many times.

She didn’t often wear skirts, not wanting to remind anyone of her femininity in an office full of
masculinity, but she’d forgotten to pick up her dry cleaning last night. Already, she’d seen some of her
co-workers take notice of her today, but she kept her head down and her boss face on. She’d been
burned too many times by come-ons in the break room or working lunches that turned out to be
attempts at quickies. Laurel hadn’t gotten where she was by screwing bosses and asking for favors. In
fact, she did everything she could to appear equal.

But she was a working girl among men, and that meant she would never be seen as completely equal.
Not as a human woman. And especially not if they knew what she really was.

So she kept to herself as much as possible. Snapped orders to her subordinates. Pretended
confidence when she had none. And above all, she always remained professional. Just like she would
today with the Blue Bear Search and Rescue. She’d worked too hard for her department manager



position. She wasn’t about to let a bunch of bear shifters intimidate her into messing it up. She was a
fox, after all. They were supposed to be sly, right? Keeping her fox a secret was priority one.

She’d already been fired once before, two years ago, when her boss had found out. Women thought
feminism was the real hurdle, but they had no idea. Anti-shifters had made success for a woman in the
workplace even harder. Laurel wasn’t going down that road again. So she’d gone into the closet,
determined to never come out again.

Resolute, Laurel grabbed her purse and keys from her desk and headed out, giving silent chin nods to
the co-workers she passed in the hall. She was friendly without being friends with a single one. No one
could ever accuse her of crossing that line. There was a job to do, and Laurel planned to do
it.


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