Free Night Shift by Charlaine Harris

assumed gaiety. “Anyway, I stopped in the Gas N Go on my way back, because I was looking for something to munch on.”
    Didn’t want to hurry back to talk to her sister, Fiji translated. “And you won’t believe who’s running the Gas N Go! Just started a couple of days ago!”
    “Who?” Fiji was actually curious about the guy, because she hadn’t heard any report on him yet.
    “Well, he’s a full-blooded Native American. . . .”
    “What tribe?”
    “I don’t know, and it seemed a little rude to ask him,” Kiki said, which was inexplicable to Fiji. “But the thing is, he’s gorgeous! In kind of an inscrutable way. And maybe he’s a little rough around the edges. But he’s got the long black hair and the copper skin and the manly man thing going for him. Yum!”
    “Huh. What’s his name?”
    “Here’s the kicker. Sylvester!” Kiki widened her eyes. “Have you ever met a real person named Sylvester?”
    “No,” Fiji said truthfully. “Sylvester what?”
    “Something Indian,” Kiki said. “Like Bearclaw, or something.”
    “That really is interesting,” Fiji agreed. “Well, I hope he stays a while. I assume he’s living in the house that comes with the store?”
    Kiki nodded vigorously. “I think so. And he said he was going to look for someone to work part time so he wouldn’t be spending sixteen hours a day there.”
    “That would be pretty awful.” Gas N Go had been limited while Teacher Reed had been in charge, because Teacher simply refused to work that many hours. And he hadn’t found anyone to split the shift with—at least, anyone who lasted more than a week.
    “Maybe he’ll bring in someone just as hunky,” Kiki said.
    “Or maybe his wife.” Fiji was willing to concede this was a little mean of her, but Kiki seemed determined to rub her the wrong way. Ordinarily, Fiji would be quite interested in a hunky new guy at the convenience store. She had to admit that Kiki made her feel contrary. This was not a huge revelation.
    “He didn’t mention a wife, and he didn’t have on a wedding ring,” Kiki said triumphantly.
    “Well, that’s good news,” Fiji said, scolding herself severely.
    “What did you do while I was gone?” her sister asked. She looked at Fiji in the bright-eyed expectation that Fiji would have done absolutely nothing.
    “Had a couple of customers, talked to them,” Fiji said. “Sold some stuff.” Denise had bought a book about star signs.
    “Oh. Well, good!” Kiki fidgeted around some more, going through the stack of magazines on the table between the two wicker chairs, picking up this item or that item and examining it, only to return it to not-exactly-the-right place.
    “So,” Kiki said, when she’d exhausted the possibilities of the store, “what do you think Quinn’s doing now?”
    “Probably visiting with Diederik, because that’s what he came here to do,” Fiji said. “Or if Diederik’s busy, Quinn’s working up in his hotel room on his laptop.”
    “Why would Diederik be busy?”
    “He has a couple of . . . jobs,” Fiji said. “He helps the Rev out. And he works over at the hotel doing janitor work in the evenings.”
    Kiki decided to rearrange the wicker chairs and the table. “Who’s the Rev?”
    “The Rev is the older man who wears the black suit and hat,” Fiji said between clenched teeth.
    “Why is he helping to raise Diederik?”
    Fiji had to think quick to come up with an answer for that one. She wasn’t going to tell her sister that the three men were weretigers. “The Rev is a distant relation. Quinn travels all the time, so the Rev’s glad to keep Diederik here until he can go along with his dad. We’re all helping.”
    “So he’s been here for years?”
    In tiger terms, yes. In human terms, not so much. “We’ve all watched him grow up,” Fiji said truthfully.
    “Quinn had quite a chat with you today out on the porch. All by your lonesomes.”
    “We’re friends.”
    “You never thought about making