Flare
After our uncomfortable coffee thing, we make our way down the street to an old building. Mike is standing near the door and I frown. The building looks empty from the outside and as soon as we walk inside, my suspicions are confirmed.
“What is this place?” My voice is filled with boredom.
“I’m thinking of buying the place. My pack has business in the city often, and I was thinking of having a place where my members could come that is home even if it’s not.” He smiles as we walk through the foyer. He shows me the kitchen, the conference rooms and, finally, we walk into the ballroom.
“What about your territory?” I frown. I summed him up as the kind of guy that still likes living in log cabins in the forest. Yeah, I know. Assumption is the mother and all that, but what else is a gi
