Claimed by Two Navy Shifters

by Jasmine Wylder

  What were all the other rooms for? Katrina wondered. It was way too quiet for other people to live there.

  "It's a restored parish," the man, who she figured by now was the butler, blurted out as if reading her mind. He unlocked the room with a key that was around his neck.

  “Oh.” Katrina tried to keep her intense curiosity out of her voice.

  "That's why there are so many rooms; many people stayed here or were given sanctuary. Much of the bottom floor and the outside was destroyed in a fire, but this part of the house is almost all the original structure." He sounded proud of it like he had a lot of passion about the place.

  She imagined that the man had worked with Zachary for a long time. Maybe he was there when Zachary picked the place out.

  "That's pretty impressive.” She looked over the walls of her new room. “The creepiness is almost forgivable now."

  The butler gave her a look of disapproval, which Katrina ignored.

  The inside of it had been made as modern as possible at least. She had been given a full-size bed that hung over a full office area. The room was painted in a canary color, making it light and airy. It wasn't so bad really.

  "This is yours now.” The man passed her the key he had opened the door with. “Get everything settled and then meet me back downstairs. We have a lot to go over."

  Katrina didn't know how to feel about the fact that the butler was the one showing her around and having her sign some contract rather than the man she worked for. It made her have an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach about why in the world this young billionaire had such a problem with interacting with other people.

  What was he hiding that he didn’t want anyone to see? It made her mind go back to the thoughts about the missing woman who had worked there last and all the other turnovers. She really hoped she hadn’t made some kind of big mistake taking the job out of desperation. She did know that if it weren’t for the money, she would not have been accepting such a position.

  She plopped down on the bed, which was surprisingly soft and sighed. It was what it was.

  The next morning, Katrina tried to stay positive as she found herself in the massive kitchen trying to figure out how to work the fancy one-cup coffee machine that was not a Keurig. The night before had been exhausting, walking a million halls and trying to learn where everything was. She also met the chef who had come in late the night before to prep for the next day.

  Her boss was clearly loaded, with all the staff running around, but she still hadn’t seen him and it was nearly eleven in the morning. Everything she was doing was for him, to get things ready for whenever he decided to rear his possibly ugly head, but it was the butler giving her the orders. She felt like she was a maid or a secretary, not a personal assistant. Was she really only there to make coffee and shred a couple of papers? Because that was all she had done so far.

  She heard a stirring in the large living room behind her; a shuffling of feet on the floor. It sounded like bare feet against the wood, and she was almost positive it must be her elusive boss finally up from bed.

  Almost immediately she heard the ringing of a cell phone that definitely wasn’t hers and a gruff voice answering as soon as she finally got some coffee to come out of the crazy machine in front of her.

  Katrina waited to turn around as he talked on the phone to someone she assumed was an associate of whatever business he ran. She caught a few technical terms that she didn’t understand but tried not to eavesdrop too much. After all, part of her contract was complete secrecy about anything that went on inside that home, so she felt she was better off knowing less.

  She took her time putting sugar in the cup and wiping at the sides, anything not to go in there while he was still on the business call. She didn’t know how he felt about that or if he had a temper.

  He finally got off the call, and she turned around to see the back of his head as she walked towards him. He was sitting in one of the chairs with his feet up on his beautiful glass coffee table. He clearly didn’t care about prints on the furniture or anything.

  Did he have so much money that he didn’t realize the worth of things? She was trying not to judge him so harshly, but she found that it might be hard coming from not having much.

  Katrina put a smile on her face and tried to make the best of things.

  “Good morning Mr. Drew. I have your morning coffee here. Just let me know if it needs more sugar or cream in it or if you need another cup.” She stood there with her hands behind her back, waiting for him to say or do anything, but he didn’t.

  He kept his head down where she could just barely see that he had a long angular face, stubble across his solid jaw, and a lone scar down his left cheek that looked pretty old. He was pretty handsome if you overlooked the scar, she thought.

  He finally grunted and picked up the cup before taking a sip. Katrina was beginning to feel awkward about just hanging out and watching him sip his coffee. She shifted uncomfortably in the silence.

  “So, what else can I help you with today? Do you need any errands run or memos sent?” she decided to ask.

  He looked up at her as if he had just realized she was there and kind of surveyed her like a scientist might look at a bacterial specimen. Then, he sat back into his chair as his phone began to ring again.

  “Joseph, my butler, will let you know if there’s anything else for you. Just stay out of trouble.” That was all he said before answering the phone and shooing her with his hand as if she were a fly.

  Yeah, the high turnover made a lot of sense.

  Chapter Three

  Katrina woke up on her eighth day of working for Zachary Drew and she knew that today was going to be different.

  She had minded her own business for the past week while doing everything she was told to do and she’d studied Mr. Drew. It was interesting what she learned about just by being around him. She was trying to figure out how to earn his respect and get the real job underway because she was sick of being so well paid just to make some coffee and disappear for the rest of the day.

  What she did find was that he never had any personal visitors or calls from what she could tell, and he seemed exhausted from the amount of work he completed in a day. It all made Katrina feel a little sorry for him. He almost never left the house, and his eating and sleep habits were atrocious. If he had a mother still around somewhere she would be completely appalled by what was going on, and Katrina felt like that was her way in.

  She needed to find a way to be helpful, and reminding him to take time out for himself might just be the right kind of helpful.

  Katrina got the coffee machine going and went to the cook, asking him to prepare a real meal for Mr. Drew instead of just a bowl of oatmeal while all the staff got a feast. She was sick of him going through his day on a half a bowl of cold oatmeal, which he always dug into it mindlessly.

  So she waited for his real breakfast to be made then grabbed it with the coffee and sat it all out at the dining room table, something she had never seen him use once. It was a beautiful table with an amazing chandelier; somewhere she would kill to have the chance to eat just one time if not every single day. And here he was wasting it.

  She could hear his footsteps, just like every morning, but he was a few minutes early to rise this time. She hoped that was a good sign and went to escort him into the kitchen.

  “Mr. Drew, I have taken the liberty of having your coffee and breakfast served at the dining table this morning. I hope you don’t mind, but I thought you could use a change of scenery.” She smiled at him as he looked up at her, his scar seeming more prominent than usual.

  His hair was somehow perfect even though he had just been in bed, and she couldn’t say the effect of his well-toned body was lost on her, even though he wasn’t the type of man she could ever see herself with.

  No, Zachary Drew was not her type, she decided. She liked to talk and go out too much. It was killing her to be cooped up in the creepy mansion all the time with so litt
le human contact, but it was paying the bills and catching her up to have a secure life. That was priceless.

  For a moment he looked like he might be angry. She could see the veins in his neck, purple and broad as his blood pressure rose.

  Something told her he really did have a temper of some kind, but hopefully, it wouldn't be the kind he would take out on others. He stood there in silence for a moment before he took a deep breath. As she watched his color return to normal. He grumbled under his breath, but he did come into the dining room and took a seat. Though, he seemed shocked to see a real breakfast before him.

  “What is this?” he asked, looking over at his chef with murdering eyes. Katrina quickly stepped out to take the blame.

  “It was all my idea, Mr. Drew,” she admitted calmly, standing across the table from him. “I have noticed that you never take the time to sit down and have a real meal. I thought you might appreciate the opportunity before your phone starts ringing off the hook.”

  “Oh… well…” He looked at the food then up at her. “Thanks,” he said, looking down at the plate a bit like a scolded little boy before digging in.

  The chef and Katrina went to leave the room when he called her back. “Wait, why don’t you have breakfast in here too? It is a shame that this room goes to waste.”

  Katrina detected a change in his tone and smiled to herself before turning on her heels and grabbing her own food and coffee. She didn’t know what kind of company he was going to be at the table, but at least he might be in a better mood to give her real assignments now that she was helping him get some real nutrition in his system.

  “I’ve been meaning to sit down and talk with you a bit since you got here and go over some things, but with how busy I’ve been, I guess it’s just been easier to let my other staff deal with you,” Zachary admitted after scarfing down his whole plate of food.

  She wondered how long it truly had been since he had sat down for a real meal. No wonder he had a bad attitude; men did not do well when they didn’t eat well.

  “So, what is it that you did before this or wanted to do? I always like to get my assistants set up with some kind of life after this if it’s possible. I know that realistically you aren’t going to stay in this job forever and are probably here because you need money. It’s a common story.”

  Katrina hoped that he didn’t mean that in an insulting way. “I’d be lying if I said that I would have been okay without this job. I was on my last leg so to speak, but that doesn’t mean I’m low class or something. My grandmother passed away and she was all I had.”

  He nodded, encouraging her to go on.

  “I had to tie up her loose ends and all of that; it really left me in a bind. We never had a ton of money, to begin with, so I guess I never really had a path. I always fiddled with being some kind of counselor or social worker in the back of my mind, though." Katrina shrugged, unsure of why she had just spilled her guts to this guy. She had a very mixed impression of him at best.

  But without her grandmother around she had no one to talk to about anything really. In that way, she supposed the two of them had something in common.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you.” His dark eyes glittered from across the table. “I guess I am not used to talking to people who I am not in business with.”

  He stopped eating and stared at Katrina for a long moment and to her horror she felt herself blush.

  “If you would like to go back to school in your free time here, I would be happy to provide a laptop for you to do so and help with tuition if you need it.”

  “That’s…that’s very kind of you,” Katrina stammered. She hadn’t been expecting anything so generous or so nice to come out of this man.

  “I will have things for you to do but not always. Actually, today, I was wondering if you could take care of a few things for me.” He pulled a crumpled list out of his pocket and passed it over to Katrina. She looked at it and was happy to see a few things like she might expect like some errands and then organizing files and setting up a meeting. It seemed like the start of something different around the mansion. Maybe work would be more bearable in the future.

  “Thank you, Mr. Drew. I will get to these right away.” Katrina felt a new energy seize her body. Perhaps a little purpose was all she had needed from the start.

  “Please,” he almost smiled, “call me Zachary.”

  Chapter Four

  Katrina looked at the clock on the wall and realized that it was almost time for dinner. With only a couple of very short breaks she had been handling e-mails, taking out Zachary’s dry cleaning, and shredding documents all day long. She hadn’t even gotten to sit down for breakfast that morning. She was beginning to understand why Zachary had skipped eating a good meal or getting any sleep.

  There was so much to do, and between the two of them, it wasn't even getting done. It was a hard job being a billionaire apparently; not at all what she imagined.

  She, like a good majority or regular people, imagined that all these rich people just sat around watching big screen televisions and having parties while their investments or whatever made money for them. As far as Zachary went, that just wasn’t the case.

  She finished up the last e-mail in the once chaotic office that she had begun to slowly organize and clean out before heading for her room to grab a quick look in the mirror and run a brush through her hair.

  Without thinking too much about why she had gotten much more conscious of how she looked around Zachary. She always tried to make sure that no matter how much work she'd done all day that when she saw him at night she looked polished.

  As she fussed over her hair and applied some light make-up to her dark brown skin she found herself wondering if there was a chance she was starting to have some kind of feelings for him. Maybe it was just because they were in close quarters and isolated from the rest of the world.

  But, she admitted to herself, maybe it also had to do with the fact that he was rich, smart and handsome. His scar gave his otherwise pretty-boy-like face an edge and character. There was no denying that had grown on her a little over the past few days.

  Katrina had almost been sure she had caught him looking at her differently lately as well, but it could have been wishful thinking. For all, she knew he didn't even go for African American women.

  The sad thing was, that even though she was living in a world that recently was able to accept the existence of things like werewolves as if they had known all along, there were still race tensions, and she hated it.

  She had been raised never to judge based on such ridiculous stereotypes, but not everyone was taught to be so open and kind. She had actually found herself rejected a few times before because of the color of her skin. Yet, she couldn’t really see Zachary doing that. He seemed to be a vicious viper with his clients and associates but sweet and soft spoken otherwise.

  Once she was satisfied, she slipped on a loose, casual dress and headed to meet Zachary in the dining room.

  As she entered, she could see that her plate was already sitting out and waiting for her across from Zachary, who was scarfing down his food like an animal. She gave him a look, scolding him for letting himself get so hungry. What would he do without her around to take care of him?

  Shaking her head, she sat down and looked at her plate. It still felt slightly odd to have someone else cooking and serving her food, especially since she was kind of a servant herself. But the cook never seemed to mind, probably because he was paid incredibly well for his skills.

  “It’s shrimp fried rice tonight,” Zachary announced quietly after dabbing at his face with his napkin. He looked apologetic about her walking in on his display of animalistic hunger, but there was something about it that was almost endearing; it made her smile.

  “It looks great,” she told him before picking up her fork, hiding the broad grin that would look out of place on her face at the moment. She felt really awkward and formal all of a sudden; like the atmosphere had suddenly changed.<
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  “So, your office looks almost livable now,” she joked nervously, trying to fill the silence with some form of small talk. Although, she had been dying to ask some hard questions for a while but wasn’t sure how he would react. There was still the turnover, his previous assistant who had gone mysteriously missing, and his awful nickname to worry about.

  “I’m glad. I’m sure that’ll make your job much easier anyway. I really appreciate what you’ve been doing around here. I don’t think I’ve ever had such a caring and efficient person as my assistant.”

  The compliment took Katrina aback for a moment, and she used the opening to push for an answer to at least one of her questions before she could change her mind.

  “Is that why there has been such high turnover; just no one knows how to handle the job?” she asked, looking at him carefully for his reaction. Zachary did pause with his fork in midair for a moment but quickly recovered.

  “There are a lot of reasons people don’t stay here long, but I would have to say that is an attributing factor,” he responded carefully, holding back a bit.

  She watched his eyes looking her over, and for a moment he had that hard and distant look on his face like when she’d first seen him.

  Then, he relaxed, and she knew he was ready to reveal a little more.

  “I guess you’ve been here long enough to deserve some answers, but I can’t promise you’ll like them, Katrina.” For some reason, hearing her name in his husky voice made Katrina’s heart skip a beat.

  “Go on,” she encouraged, hoping he didn’t notice the outrageous effect he was having on her. “I can take it.”

  “Once or twice it just hasn’t worked out because I can’t trust just anyone. That’s why the contract and easing you into the work I actually need you to do. There is a great confidentiality and responsibility that comes with knowing what I do, and not everyone is meant for that kind of responsibility.” He paused, and Katrina felt a chill go down her spine. It sounded ominous, and she was beginning to feel unsure that she wanted to know exactly how he made his money.