Chapter 7

Jane hunched over her drink, feeling the weight of another long sip settling heavily in her stomach. She’d been here for hours, nursing a bitter anger that refused to ease. Earlier that day, she’d gone into Moses Lightfur’s office. To drop off a data cube she had borrowed and it had hit her instantly. The unmistakable scent of Vivian Stoneclaw. She knew exactly what it meant: Moses and Vivian had been together and without her help. That stung deeper than she’d expected. Even as she thought about it in the dim comfort of the bar.

Usually, when Moses wanted a woman, it was Jane who made it happen. She’d arrange a get-together with the woman and Moses. Help her to feel at ease and stay in the background until Moses was through. She hoped that would be a way for her and Moses to become closer. In fact, it was the closest she ever got to him. And then, after he’d discarded the women. She’d have her own time with them. But it still felt like an extension of him. That was how she justified it. That is how she kept her place in his life.

But this time, he hadn’t called her, hadn’t even hinted at needing her help with Vivian. He’d just done it himself. Her stomach twisted as she thought about it. The fact that he could bypass her so easily gnawed at her. She didn’t like feeling like she was cut out of the loop. For Jane, it felt like rejection, like she was being replaced by someone newer, someone who didn’t understand him like she did.

She looked around the dim, grimy bar, taking in the chipped wood tables, sticky floors and walls stained with years of stale cigarette smoke. It was a dump, but it suited her mood. The dark, shadowed corners mirrored the empty ache in her chest and the holo-vid on the wall behind the bar Counter. Cast everything in a harsh, unflattering glow. Jane’s visage looked just as worn out, just as discarded as she felt.

She took another gulp, gripping the glass so hard her knuckles went white. She was angry and hurt. Plain and simple. Why hadn’t he needed her? All these years, she’d stayed by his side, proving her loyalty, even taking on the women he was done with. It wasn’t her ideal situation. But she’ll take that over not being in his life at all. If being with the discarded women. Was as close to Moses as she’d ever get she’d take it. But it seemed that Moses didn’t see it the same way. Maybe she was nothing more than his secretary after all.

She scowled, finishing off her drink and signaling for another. It burned down her throat, but she welcomed it. If he’d ever cared, he wouldn’t have gone to Vivian alone. He wouldn’t have dismissed Jane like this. But some desperate part of her still hoped, stupidly, that if she showed enough loyalty, maybe someday he’d see her differently. Maybe he’d see her the way he saw those other women just once. The thought lingered, equal parts pathetic and hopeful, like a habit she couldn’t kick.

The bartender slid another drink her way and she took it, grateful for the bitter taste that matched her mood. She’d spent so long proving herself, cleaning up after him, arranging his life. Now it felt like all of that loyalty and sacrifice might have been worthless. She’d been his helper, his confidante and in her mind, something more. But tonight, sitting in that dive bar, Jane felt as invisible as the shadows pooling around her.

The bar door swung open, snapping her out of her thoughts. An attractive fox woman entered and Jane’s gaze lingered on her despite herself. She was young, probably in her twenties, with a petite, curvy frame that was hugged by a bold red harness. Long, reddish hair cascaded over her shoulders and her confident walk drew attention from the other patrons as she moved through the bar. Even with her own drink and bitterness clouding her focus, Jane couldn’t deny her appeal.

The fox exchanged nods and a few words with the patrons and the bartender, who greeted her by the name “Ruth.” It sounded familiar, but Jane brushed it off, taking another swig of her drink. She wasn’t here to be friendly. But when the fox woman looked around. Her gaze landed on Jane with a curious glint. As if sensing something in her posture. Without hesitation. The attractive woman took her drink and slid onto the stool beside her.

“Rough night?” She asked, her tone casual but her eyes sharp. Jane gave her a sidelong look, irritated but also amused by the woman’s boldness.

“Men,” Jane muttered, setting her drink down harder than she meant to. “They take what they want and leave you with the scraps. You give them everything you have, all your effort, all your time and they just toss you aside.” The words spilled out, a mixture of scorn and wounded pride. The woman nodded, sipping her drink, a hint of understanding in her expression.

“Yeah, some of them are like that,” she said. Her tone was sympathetic as if she’d seen it all before. That simple agreement opened the door for Jane, who was too far into her cups to stop herself now.

“My boss,” Jane scoffed, rolling her eyes. “Think he’d have the decency to let me do my job. I’ve worked with him for years and I know him better than anyone. But does that matter?” She huffed, the irony almost laughable. “He’s this big megachurch guy one of those types who preaches one thing and does the opposite.”

The attractive woman’s expression shifted, a flicker of recognition seeming to spark in her eyes. She studied Jane more closely, her tone becoming cautious. “Are you talking about ... Moses Lightfur?”

Jane hesitated, but the liquor burned away her reservations. She rolled her eyes, muttering, “Yeah, him.” Why bother hiding it now? She thought. She felt too betrayed, too angry to care if anyone else knew.

The female fox’s eyebrows raised in slight surprise, but she didn’t look as shocked as Jane would’ve expected. Instead, she gave a small, almost amused smile. “You know he’s my father, right?”

Jane blinked, her gaze sharpening as she took a second, to look at her. She did have those beautiful eyes of Lightfur’s. Now it made sense the resemblance, the confidence. “What’s your name again?” she asked, piecing things together.

“Ruth Lightfur,” the fox replied with a smirk, clearly entertained by Jane’s reaction. “I take it he’s mentioned me?”

Jane returned Ruth’s smirk, feeling a small spark of interest as she lifted her glass and took a sip. “Every now and then,” she muttered, letting the words roll out. “He’s even got a holo-cube in his desk with a picture of you, sitting on the side of a bed. Looks like you were ... fifteen or so.” Ruth raised an eyebrow, her lips twisting into a sly smile. “One of the less risqué ones,” she remarked. Her tone was almost amused as if sharing some private joke that Jane wasn’t in on. Jane blinked, thrown for a second, curiosity tugging at her. Less risqué? She thought. Covering her reaction with another sip. Leaning back in her seat. Ruth’s words echoed in her mind, but she forced herself to hold onto that bitter satisfaction, letting it drown out the questions buzzing just beneath the surface. Ruth’s smile twisted into something sly. “Oh, so he still has that old thing.” Her tone was casual, but Jane sensed an edge beneath it a tension she couldn’t quite place. What did she mean, less risqué?