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public life their father had exposed them to. “You just concentrate on getting your degree. Graduate school is your top priority. Dad can handle his own life.”
    “It’s you I’m worried about,” Kimmie replied, her dark brown hair draped over her left shoulder. Their physical appearances were the total opposite and Phoebe stared into the soft brown eyes of her sister. Concern was shining through. “What about Crescent? I’m not going to say it doesn’t make me happy to have you on U.S. soil, but we both know the donations will dwindle if you don’t stay on top of your supporters.”
    “You mean the same benefactors that will be forking over money for Dad’s campaign?” Phoebe replied wryly, knowing exactly what would happen to Crescent’s donations and already having taken precautions. “When Dad mentioned last year that he was debating on the run, I figured it was only a matter of time so I made some investment decisions to carry the foundation through his election.”
    “That was smart, but I’m still wondering why you’re even here.” Kimmie looked pointedly around the room as if she still couldn’t believe it was real. She’d voiced her concerns during a family meeting, but she’d been overruled. Their father had been adamant about running and now here they were. “Dad has a campaign manager and enough staff that neither one of us has to be here. We both agreed to do whatever interviews he wanted us to do. Why take time off from Crescent at all?”
    “Because it’s what Mom would have wanted.” Phoebe gave her sister a sad smile, all the while knowing Kimmie wouldn’t really understand. She had only been ten when their mom passed away. It had been Phoebe who’d stepped into her mother’s shoes. She loved her father and absolutely adored her sister. Annabelle would have wanted them to support their father in his quest for presidency. “Mom also would have required you to concentrate on your studies. Go to class and I’ll talk to you in a few days.”
    “I feel like I’m abandoning you to werewolves.”
    Kimmie had been about to say something else when her eyes must have caught sight of something over Phoebe’s shoulder. She turned around and her stomach immediately felt like someone had placed a brick in it. A thousand protests ran through her mind but from the smile on her father’s face she knew it was an uphill battle—that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try. Lach McKinnon was the last man to enter and also the last man she thought would ever cross the threshold of this office. Kimmie had no idea how true her words rang.
    “Kimmie, I’m glad you’re here,” Stan said, his voice booming as he walked around the tables to join them. Her father was a force to be reckoned with, from his physical appearance to his personality. Kimmie had gotten his looks, from his dark hair to his brown eyes and all the way down to his personality. Her sister was also tall, although nowhere near their father’s height of six feet. Those two butted heads constantly and she knew now wasn’t going to be an exception. Whereas Kimmie was downright stubborn, Phoebe knew how to negotiate with the best of them. She waited while her father continued. “Would you two please join me in my office? I’ve hired security details for the two of you and—”
    “Sorry, Dad,” Kimmie exclaimed, hoisting her tote a little higher on her shoulder. She might have expressed an apology, but there was no regret in her voice. Phoebe felt envy for her sister’s youth of twenty-four years and her ability to be brutally honest. “They’re more than welcome to follow me but I can’t stay and chat. I’ve got class and I’m already running behind.”
    “Kimmie, this is important.” Stan gave his youngest daughter the pointed stare that he seemed to think worked when it did the exact opposite. “We’re talking about your safety.”
    “They can keep me safe,” Kimmie replied with a shrug, although she did raise herself