“First off, Mom, what classes? The kind of classes these little brats want to take have already been filled for at least six months, if not at least a full year.”

Jackie chuckled. “Baby, come on. You forget what you’re dealing with here.”

“We still have to make calls, get recommendations from their Washington teachers—”

“I already have Jack on it.”

“Your agent?”

“Uh-huh. He’s already got the boys in some advanced classes at NYU. The twins in Berlitz at Rockefeller Center. Oriana will take her morning and afternoon classes with the Manhattan Ballet Company—”

“How the hell did he—”

“—Cherise will be studying under Herr Koenig.”

“I heard he’s an asshole.”

“A horrible asshole but a talented one who only takes the best performers as his students.”

Toni threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, well then . . .”

“Kyle will be taking master classes at the Steinhardt School at NYU and Denny will go to the School of Visual Arts.”

“How the hell did Jack—”

“He has the kids’ portfolios and recent video performances on file . . . just in case.”

Toni’s eyes narrowed. “Is he their agent?”

“No. He’s my agent. He’s just helping me out.”

“Right.” Toni studied her mom. “You didn’t mention Delilah.”

“She said she’d take care of it herself. She’s eighteen now. I can’t order her to go to classes.”

“And we can’t just have her wandering around on her own, Mom.”

Her mother waved away Toni’s concern. “She’ll be fine.”

“Mom.”

“She’ll be fine. And would you mind taking Freddy over to the hotel to see Irene before she goes back home?”

“Yes, of course.” If her mother didn’t want to discuss Delilah—and when did she ever want to discuss Delilah?—then Toni would ask her another important question. “And what about my job, Mom?”

Her mother blinked at Toni, her expression completely blank. “What job?”

“The one I was starting on Monday. Remember?”

“That little office job?”

“Yes, Mom. That little office job. The one I was doing part-time and had incredibly flexible hours so I could help with the kids? That little office job.”

“I’m sure you can find something here to keep you busy.”

“I’m not talking about something to keep me busy. I’m thinking long term.”

“Long term . . . to what? Being an office drone? You?”

“What do you want me to do? Sit around all day?”

“Find something you’re good at! Look for a real career. You have a collegedegree.”

“In liberal arts. Not exactly beneficial in this economy.”

“Oh, my God, baby. You worry about the most ridiculous things.”

“And you, Mom?”

“What about me?”

“Why are you here?”

“Do you know how much I can get done being in Manhattan for a few months? This will work out great for me.”

Toni walked over to the window and jabbed her thumb at the building across the street. “And those wild dogs have nothing to do with you moving here?”

“Can you think of a better neighborhood than one with fellow canines?”

“Not just canines, Mom. African wild dogs.”

“We’re all dogs in God’s eye—”

“Mom!”

“Oh, all right!” Letting out a sigh, her mother crossed the room and leaned against the wall by the window. She glanced down. “The Kuznetsov Pack lives there.”

“Mom . . . seriously? At this point it might be considered stalking.”

“I’m not stalking. Just making myself available.”

Toni glowered at her mother. “I can’t believe how sneaky you are.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You were planning this from the beginning. This was never just a little family getaway to Manhattan.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“You just wanted to make sure the Kuznetsovs were still in town.” Toni glanced around the beautiful room. “This is their property, isn’t it? You rented from them.”

“Who else would I trust but another canine? And how dare you call me that, Antonella Jean-Louis Parker!”

“What are you talking about? I haven’t called you anything.”

“No. But you’re thinking it.”

Toni shrugged. “Maybe.”

Ricky looked away from the TV baseball game he was watching and up at the She-wolf standing next to the couch.

“Hey, Dee-Ann.”

Dee-Ann Smith. Ricky had grown up with her in Smithtown. She was closer to Rory’s age and to this day they were still best friends. Ricky, however, thought of Dee-Ann as more of a sister. She’d sewn up his head when Rory had rammed it into their daddy’s truck door. Sewn up his face when Reece had chucked a crowbar at him. And held his hand when, at sixteen, he was waiting to find out if his onetime girlfriend was pregnant. His girlfriend hadn’t been, and Dee-Ann had been the first to hug him, then punch him in the stomach, drive him to the local pharmacy, and buy him several boxes of condoms. Something that would have started all sorts of rumors in a little wolf-run town like Smithtown if it had been any other She-wolf but Dee-Ann. She was not a female anyone wanted to start spreading rumors about. She was not a female you wanted to ever notice you.