Snippet #2294881

Dutifully waiting for Elias to return to the manor, the dog was sitting in the driver's seat of one of the family's many vehicles -- a silver luxury compact SUV that he had more or less claimed as his own. If you held the philosophy that a man's traits are reflected in his choice of automobile, you'd say that Sean Paterson was fun, sporty, but more flashy than practical. A fair description, he had to agree. Guess then you'd also have to say he had a classy interior...

Laughing to himself, he slid down the window with a touch of a button, leaned his head out like a dog. "Eli!" he called, seeing his brother returning from the fishing expedition that some of the younger Patersons had been hornswoggled into joining. For all his love of water -- ocean, lake or pool -- Sean couldn't give a toss about fishing, and was surprised anyone related to him could even pretend to. "Ready to go?" He'd offered to give Elias a ride earlier, as they were both due at the Pawprint for a closing shift.

In the small break room at the back of the cafe, Sean donned a black waiter's apron and cinched it about his slim waist. He wore black slacks and the black polo shirt with the paw print stitched above the breast. He motioned to punch in, but his hand hesitated at the mounted time clock. It had been so long since his last shift that he'd forgotten his employee number. He didn't turn his luck on full burn, but let it simmer like a pot ready to boil over. Closing his eyes, he stabbed a finger at the pad four times; heard four successive beeps. Looking at the LED display scrolling the text "PATERSON, SEAN," he cooled his luck down to nil and stepped out of the break room.

He reached the counter in time to hear the tail end of James' conversation, but kept out of it until after the girl turned away. "Random admirer of the fabled Patersons?" he asked, keeping his back to the counter, "or another snoop?" In the last few months, more and more the siblings had suspected that they were being watched. Of course, they were being watched, always, as the small town's wealthiest denizens. But lately it felt like being probed.

Then there was that time a few weeks back when he'd been at a bar out of town, on his own after splitting up from the rest of his friends earlier that night. He'd confronted two men that he'd been sure were following him, only to find the situation escalate into a fight outside. He'd burnt his luck so bright they'd practically broke their necks slipping on the loose gravel parking lot, and he kept it burning all the way home as he caught green after green.

As much as he enjoyed the fawning attention of admiring girls, Sean would gladly give it up if it meant no longer feeling under surveillance. Hell, he didn't want to know about the origins of their strange gifts, much less someone else. After this small moment of concern, though, Sean reverted to his usual charismatic, outgoing self as he set about helping customers. You couldn't keep a good dog down.