Page 26 of The Grizzly Situation
“So Cullin…. Do you remember me telling you about him? Wait.DidI tell you about him?”
I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back the laugh that wanted to bubble out. Mr. Lockhart was so earnest, and I didn’t want to upset him.
“You told me he was looking into someone named Chaim—which is a cool name, by the way—but thus far he hadn’t found anything.”
“And that’s very unusual for Cullin. He’s got all kinds of skills, and usually can find someone no matter what. Chaim is proving elusive.”
“Mr. Lockhart, I have to ask. Why are you telling me these things?”
He gasped. “I’m sorry, am I oversharing?”
“No, it’s not that. But wouldn’t it be better for you to talk with someone you know?”
That earned me a sigh. “In Ursine, I’m the big cheese. Everyone treats me differently because… well, just because. They all look to me for direction, and if I show any weakness, they’d probably panic. I’m very sorry if I took our conversations too far. I won’t do it?—”
“Wait, no. Hold on. That isn’t what I mean at all. I amnotcomplaining. I just didn’t want you to regret talking to me.”
He chuckled. “That day at the coffee shop? You told me why you were leaving. You opened up, let me in, but you didn’t know me. Why was that?”
I thought for a moment. “Because it’s easier to talk with a stranger sometimes?”
“Yeah, there is that. But I also felt that you would be easy to talk to. Someone I could open up to and not be judged differently. I guess it’s just nice to be myself for a change. I’m very sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
But he hadn’t. If anything, he’d made me feel special, which was weird. I didn’t have many friends. Shit, I didn’t haveanyfriends, not really. Jamie and Deb would be the closest, but since we’re related, they didn’t count in that category.
“You didn’t, I promise. I… I like talking with you. Almost makes me feel like I have a friend.”
And didn’t that sound pathetic?
A warm snicker filled my ears. “Is it weird I feel the same way? I don’t have friends here. Not really. I mean, they’re not the kind of folks I can go out to the bar with. It wouldn’t be proper.”
At times he said things that made little sense to me. Who wouldn’t want to be friends with someone like Mr. Lockhart?
“Mr. Lockhart, I?—”
“Listen, Uly. Would you mind calling me Brent? If we’re going to be friends, we should use first names, don’t you think?”
“But you’re my boss. Well, will be soon, I hope.”
“Okay, how about outside the office you call me Brent, but when we’re with others, you use Lockhart?”
“Dude, I literally just started taking these pills. I don’t know if my brain will allow it.”
“If it doesn’t, that’s fine. We’ll deal. Please. The last people to really call me anything other than Mr. Lockhart were Jenna, Chaim, and… Well, I miss hearing it. I told my secretary and my housekeeper to do it, but they defaulted back to Mr. Lockhart right away.”
Who knew the ultra-rich could have everyday problems like this? In my mind, especially after reading the papers, I always thought their biggest fear was where to stash their cash to avoid taxes or which yacht to buy or whether they could afford to visit space. Yet Mr. Lock—Brent—wanted someone to call him by name.
“I’ll try… Brent.”
He sighed. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I really heard my name.”
And that made me sad for some reason.
BRENT
Wasit wrong that hearing my name on Uly’s lips was a balm to me? Within the sleuth, at least at functions, I was called by my title, ‘Typhon’, which was the name of the ancient bear god who merged our souls with the animals, hoping to instill humility within us. Our bear sides were stronger, more aggressive. Our human sides were expected to be kinder, gentler. Typhon assumed we’d become an amalgam of both parts, but not shifters. That aggression? It bled over to our human sides. The caring and nurturing part? Our bears inherited some of that, which explained our love of the cubs in our sleuth.
My father loved being called Typhon. He lorded it over others, reminding them at every turn they were small and pathetic, and that if he wanted, he could crush them like insects beneath his paws. In my teens, especially after Chaim disappeared, I grew surly and angry. A benefit of the hormones that surged within my developing body that I would gladly have skipped. At times I swore I wanted to be Typhon just so I could smack down anyone who opposed me. Especially my father.
