The Wolf at the Door

Monica clearly noticed it too. She squinted her tipsy eyes at me, teasing, "Ms. Delaney, is there a wolf chasing after you? What kind of wolf is it—the biting kind, the devouring kind, or the protective kind?"

"You're drunk. Just a client, that's all," I replied, trying to keep my cool.

Monica blinked in surprise. "Calling a client a wolf is kind of weird."

I gave a faint smile. "Nothing weird abo