Page 12 of Fake It Till You Make It

He paused for a second, his eyes narrowing. “Give me the name and phone number of your previous employer. After I verify your skills, I might reconsider.”

Russell would never write her a job recommendation. So she quickly moved on, tripping over her words in the process. “I-I completed a four-year nursing degree program last December.” His scowl deepened.

“You talk faster when you’re anxious.” His stare was assessing, disassembling her every utterance for details she wouldn’t reveal. Slowly, his stunning gaze crawled up her stiff torso until it came to linger on her mouth. Tingles of awareness danced across her skin, following the path his eyes had taken. Oh, the reaction, a body betrayal she pretended did not occur.

“I’m not anxious,” she lied.

“Hmm,” he said, brows raised in obvious disbelief. “The number,” he repeated.

Amarie jutted her chin forward in defiance. “I prefer not to disclose that information at this time. Now, are you really going to not hire me when I literally have no competition?”

Eli’s eyes softened for a second, but then he crossed those sinewy arms on the chair back. Those arms would have had her swooning if they were on another human. Eli operated in perpetual beast mode, even when she presented the ideal solution. Which didn’t make a lick of sense from Amarie’s perspective. It was more important that she arrived ready to be a productive member of Team Calvary. She just had to convince him to see reason.

“I can help you,” she said, her voice not quite as confident. She needed this job, but she hated the suffocating feeling of vulnerability. She knew firsthand how the world preyed upon the unwanted. Mentally, Amarie regressed to a childhood memory, really a nightmare. Her mother, Bethany, rocking a sobbing Amarie as the ache of hunger burned her empty belly. That day, Amarie had made a vow. She would never give up, never beg, never quit, even if she failed.

Russell’s stunt with the credit card had delivered a crippling blow, but she met Eli’s eyes dead-on; she would not surrender to a metaphysical death today. Eli Calvary looked formidable and unyielding. He wasn’t going to bend. She saw the truth reflected in his emerald eyes, but just then a high-pitched squeal came from the direction of the clinic.

“Adele! No. Stop. Come back,” a woman’s tinny voice called.

“She’s loose.” Leah jolted, clearly distressed, taking a few steps backward.

Amarie shot to her feet. “What is it? A bear. A moose? No—no, that’s Alaska. A buck?”

Hiccup answered with a series of short, throaty barks and a sideways two-step. Whatever was heading their way, neither the Calvarys nor their dancing pooch wanted the smoke of the approaching fire.

“I’ll grab the safety gear,” Tobias called, before his fast footfalls carried him toward the front of the house.

She released a strangled gasp, there was nothing protecting her vital organs. “Oh God, it’s a mountain lion. Isn’t it?”

Eli jumped in front of her and Leah. “Noah, the conversationalist, must have left the clinic door open. Stay behind me.”

Startled by the demand, Amarie complied. Clearly a dangerous animal had broken free of its cage, and they were in imminent danger. Her heart began to pound asshe listened for a throat-ripping snarl, a feeble scream, or a ferocious bark. When nothing happened, Amarie ducked around Eli’s wide back to see a flash of white-and-black fur dash into the kitchen.

“Oh, that’s—it’s a kitty,” she said, relaxing.

“Don’t move,” Eli snapped. “I’ll contain her.”

“Contain her? Like inJurassic Park?” Amarie laughed.

“Adele hates people. Especially breathing ones,” he whispered, edging forward.

Who was he to judge?Amarie thought. Eli Calvary was the most ill-tempered caregiver she’d ever met. It was vexing, really. Pediatricians, veterinarians, and older people should be friendly types. Not bossy, rule-followers, demanding official documents and such. Behind the safety of Eli’s back, she lowered herself to her haunches.

“Tsk, tsk… come here, pretty kitty.” Amarie stretched forward her hand, letting Adele come to her.

“Don’t,” Eli hissed. “She will bite.”

“You, I’m sure. No way would a cute little kitty with a famous name harm her new friend, Amarie.”

“I recognize crazy talk when it hits my ears.” Eli balked. “Now quit fooling around with that cat before we all need eye patches.”

“Don’t be afraid, Eli. I’ll rescue you.” Amarie snickered.

Slowly, Adele lowered her head, making a cursory prowl in Amarie’s direction. When she was in reach, Amarie held still until the tuxedo cat, not kitten, rubbed her fine whiskers against the back side of her knuckles. She placed a hand, a light touch at first, on the cat’s nape, then she administered long strokes down the length of Adele’s spine until she heard a soft purr.

“Whoa,” Tobias said, entering the room to hand Eli a pair of long-armed gloves, “she’s a pet whisperer.”

Eli stared down at her, slipping his large hands into the protective gear. “I told you not to move.”