by Terra Wolf
Table of Contents
Dillon
Taken By The Tiger
Dillon
The Johnson Clan Book Four
Terra Wolf
COPYRIGHT
©2018 Terra Wolf
Dillon
All Rights Reserved worldwide.
No part of this book may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this book at the authorized online outlets.
This is a work of fiction intended for mature audiences only. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Some may be used for parody purposes. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is purely coincidental.
All sexual activities depicted occur between consenting characters 18 years or older who are not blood related.
Parts of the story were previously published as Wild Daddy by Ellie Wild
1
Dillon
“You’ve got a major problem.”
I perked up my ears for the first time in this long, boring meeting. “What problem is that?”
My lawyer, Julie Fallon, leaned toward me. “Have you heard a word I just said?”
I shifted in my seat on the couch. “Sure, I have. You said I’ve got a major problem.”
“Before that,” Julie snapped. “If you don’t clean up your act in a hurry, you’re going to wind up in court. Maybe you don’t care about that, but I think these other folks do. This scandal is all over the headlines—again.”
She waved her hand at my PR team standing in a half-circle around me. William Frasier the press agent, Callie Faulk in charge of social media, and Jacob Koch, my publicist, all glared down at me.
I squared my shoulders to meet the daggers shooting out of their eyes. “I don’t care what that woman said. I did not slap her ass.”
Julie crossed her arms. “Are you sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” I shot back. “I would definitely remember that.”
“I don’t know,” Julie went on. “You go to that club just about every Saturday, and you’ve pulled stunts like this before. Why should I believe you now?”
“She just wants money,” I told her. “She’s a gold-digger just like all the others.”
Julie cast a sidelong glance at the rest of the team. Callie didn’t even bother to hide when she rolled her eyes. Jacob bit back a rude smirk. He wouldn’t look at me. Not one of these fuckers believed a word I said.
So, what if some little sleaze-bag called me a bunch of dirty names and ran screaming to the tabloids? So, what if she accused me of sexual advances and told the police? I’d faced situations like this before. All she wanted was a fat settlement. That would shut her up just like the rest of these women hounding me.
When your family owns Shyft, one of the biggest hotel chains and real estate businesses in the country, people come out of the woodwork. Especially people who want money.
And I had lots of it.
Julie slapped a file folder on my desk. “Listen, Dillon, we’ve been through this before, but we’re going to play it differently this time. We’re not going to just pay this girl off.”
My bear roared angrily in response. “Not pay her off! Are you nuts? That’s basically telling the world I really did slap her ass.”
Julie shrugged. “If you hadn’t done exactly the same thing a dozen times before in the last six months….”
“I have not done exactly the same thing,” I spat back.
“You may not have slapped some silly little waitress’s ass,” Julie replied, “but you’ve gotten yourself in hot water enough times over girls in bars. You can’t keep your hands to yourself, and you think you can buy their silence when they get mad at you. If she decided to take this to a judge, he’s going to take one look at your record and lock you up. Do you hear me? You’re looking at time in jail. And do you think Lucinda and Kane are going to bail you out yet another time? Now do I have your attention?”
She was pulling my parents into this mess. I pulled my head down between my shoulders. This couldn’t be happening. How could an innocent pat on the butt get me jail time? And I hadn’t even fucking done it! My bear was pacing, anxiously waiting to break free of this shit, but I had to keep him under control.
Julie smacked her lips. “I thought so. Now you’re going to listen to me. We are not just going to pay this girl off. That won’t work. Even if she accepted the settlement—and we have no guarantee she will—you would wind up in the same situation a few weeks from now, and we would be back to square one.”
“So, what do you suggest?”
“We’ll offer her the settlement. Then you’re going to change your M.O. You’re going to turn over a new leaf. You’re going to convince the paparazzi and the police and this girl and anybody else who cares to turn their attention your way that you're not a womanizing douche-bag. You’re going to convince them you’re a model citizen who respects women and honors their feminine empowerment.”
I snorted out loud. I always respected women. My bear and I knew what we liked, and I was never shy about making it known. But I was a gentleman down deep.
Julie smiled, but she held up her hand for quiet when she continued. “You’re going to change your ways, Dillon Johnson. If you want to stay in business with your investors, if you want to stay out of jail, and keep your parents and siblings off your back, you’re going to do it our way. You’re going to become a new man, and you’re going to start right now—right this very minute.”
I narrowed my eyes at the rest of the team. They all stood perfectly quiet. Not one of them argued or disagreed with her. They all looked at me. That could mean only one thing. They were all in on this together. “I don’t like where this is going,” I grumbled. “I don’t like where this is going one bit.”
“Well, then, you’re really not going to like where this is going when we tell you what it’s for.” Julie took a step back to take her place with the rest of the team.
Callie came forward to take Julie’s place. She handed me a clipboard stacked with papers. “We’ve got it all arranged. We’ve got press conferences booked and a few photo shoots to supply pictures. That should get us started until the paparazzi takes over.”
“What are you talking about?” I glanced at the clipboard. A standard job application form sat on top, and more peeked out underneath.
She handed me another loose sheet of paper. “This is a list of the bars, clubs, and restaurants you’re allowed to frequent over the next year. I’ve transferred them to an app on your phone so you can find them whenever you want. We’ve even set up bar tabs, but you can only drink within a designated range. We can’t run the risk of you becoming intoxicated in public. We’re trusting you to comply with all the safety precautions. If we find you broke any of your conditions, your investors will leave.”
I gasped out loud. “Callie! This is insane. You can’t...”
Jacob spoke up. “Just go along with it, man. It’s for your own good, and it’s only for a year. We’ve got to do some damage control to salvage your reputation. You gotta admit you’ve given it a hammering these last few months. Even Abraham has been noticing and expressed concern to us.”
I blinked at these people. I never really gave public relations much thought before now. I did what I wanted and let them clean up the mess. Isn’t that what I paid them
for? I certainly didn’t pay them to put me on a leash. But they mentioned Abraham, my twin brother. That asshole was doing this to me. I was sure of it. This was more about his image than it was mine. And he had more invested in the company once his condo buildings took off, so he could still control me. Fuck, when he met Summer he completely changed and won over the favor of our family. Now he thinks he’s so high and mighty because his part of the family business is soaring and his public image is clean. But somehow, he found a way to throw me under the bus again. I thought members of the clan were meant to take care of their own.
I turned to the one person left who hadn’t thrown me to the lions—not yet, anyway. “William! You can’t be in on this, too. Tell me you’re not going along with this.”
William shrugged. “I’m sorry, man. We’ve covered for you as long as we could, but there are only so many outrages the public will put up with.”
“Outrages!” My bear growled. “I never….”
William cut me off with a shake of his head. “Don’t bother denying it, man. We all know you. There’s nobody here but us, so you don’t have to pretend. We all know you could have and you would have, even if you didn’t. You’ve done a lot worse than this, and you even stupidly bragged about it to the press. Don’t go telling us you never.”
I swallowed hard. I had to get myself together. I couldn’t show any sign of disturbance. “So, what do you want? You want me to clean up my act?”
“For a year,” Callie replied. “It’s the only way to convince the public, your investors and more importantly your family, that you would never do something like this. We’re going to turn you into Joe Average.”
I would have laughed in her face if that prospect didn’t give me the heebie-jeebies. Joe Average—me? I prided myself on being the biggest baddest bear on the block. I threw my weight around. I saw what I wanted, and I took it. My bear heard the siren call of a woman, and I chose to conquer her the way she had thought she’d conquer some weaker man. I bedded any woman within a hundred miles of me who looked remotely available—and now this. Fucking Abraham.
I tossed the clipboard on the couch next to me and shook my head. “I don’t know what you guys are up to, but I’m not buying it. I’ve always lived by my own rules, and I’ll keep doing it.”
Callie and Julie exchanged a knowing glance. William looked away. Jacob smirked worse than ever.
Julie lowered her voice to that confidential murmur I knew so well. That voice meant I better do what she said, or I would be sorry. “You better take a look at those applications. We have ten interviews lined up for next Monday. Abraham vetted them himself. You’ll need to familiarize yourself with the applicants’ backgrounds so you can ask relevant questions.”
“Interviews?” I asked. “What for?”
She leveled me with her crisp green eyes. “Your wife.”
2
Bianca
I sat at my favorite cafe. I crossed one leg under me on the couch and pulled out my phone. I logged onto the internet and went to the job search website I bookmarked last week.
Just then, the waitress set my macchiato on the table in front of me. “Hey, Bianca. How ya doing?”
I mustered all my courage to give the girl a bright smile. I wasn't really in the mood to chat with anyone. “I’m great, Angela. How are you?”
“Busy. But you let me know if you need anything!” Angela hurried away.
I didn’t try to call her back. I needed solitude. I took a sip of my drink and went back to my phone. I scrolled down page after page. My heart sank into my shoes the farther I scrolled. I’d seen every listing on this site. I already applied for most of them, even the ones I wasn’t qualified for. Some I would never qualify for. I applied for them, too, and I never heard back from any of them.
I clicked on a different site. Same thing. I hated myself at times like these. It wasn’t my fault my boss at the last accounting firm where I worked laundered money. It wasn’t my fault a hundred people got thrown out on their asses when the firm closed down.
No one cared about my sob story. They took one look at my resume, and my application took a one-way trip to the trash can. The name F.P. Ferguson at the top made absolutely no one want to hire me. But I had no choice but to leave it on there. It was my only experience out of college. I had no idea the boss laundered money, but everyone suspected me anyway. I was part of the firm, wasn’t I? If I didn’t know, I must be incompetent. Right?
That’s what everybody thought, anyway. What if they were right? What if I was too incompetent to work in this field? What would happen then? I was totally unemployable.
I wasn’t even thinking about jobs at that moment. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to notice the postings scrolling up my screen when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a new one. My eye zeroed in on it. Wife, Wanted.
Now, who in their right mind would post a job like that on a corporate employment website? It must be a joke. Just out of curiosity, I read the description. Marriage of convenience, must be college educated, attractive, with a clean record. Help a wayward billionaire reform and become a model citizen for the press.
Strange. That made no sense at all. If he was a billionaire, he should be able to get any woman he wanted. Maybe he was old and ugly. Maybe he was an alcoholic and a lecher, or maybe, I just drank too much coffee that morning. I really ought to cut down on my caffeine intake if I was starting to actually read a post like that.
I took another sip of my drink. How many times a day did I check these websites in the desperate hope of finding a job—any job? The nest egg I built up dwindled to nothing over the months of beating the streets in search of work. Now I had almost nothing left. I couldn’t even pay my basic expenses.
Well, I certainly wasn’t going to become anybody’s wife. That was for sure. He could pick up whoever else found this posting. He wasn’t looking for an accountant, anyway. I was too brainy to be any guy’s wife for hire.
Just then, my phone buzzed. A text popped up on the screen. It was from my roommate, Lakyn. It read: Hey, babe. Don’t forget the rent is due today. See ya when you get home.
Shit. I forgot about the rent. I was going to have to ask for an extension. Ugh, that hurt the ego.
I flicked back to the job post. Maybe, just maybe. My thumb hovered over the Apply Now button. I hesitated. Should I? What other option did I have?
A clatter of crockery from the kitchen startled me out of my thoughts. I glanced up to see Angela come barreling around the corner. Before I could do or say anything, she sailed across the room and flung herself down on the couch next to me. She covered her face with both hands and burst into tears.
My phone fell out of my hand. I put out my arms to the girl. “Oh, my gosh, Angela! Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Angela sobbed into her hands. Her shoulders shook, and she sucked air through her teeth between heaves. “I...I can’t do this anymore. I wasn’t supposed to do this. I trained as a chef. I came to Charleston to make it in the restaurant scene in one of the most beautiful and historical cities, and now here I am serving coffee to a bunch of washed-up nobodies. No one wants a chef from the middle of nowhere Minnesota. I can’t handle this.”
I pursed my lips. Another broken heart? I could relate. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay.”
Angela threw her hands in her lap. “I’m outta here. I’m going home to my family in Minnesota. I don’t need this crap anymore.”
I gasped. “You can’t just walk out on the job. What would your boss say?”
“I just told him.” Angela waved toward the kitchen. “All he ever does is complain about how I serve the customers. Well, I don’t hear any of them complaining. He’s a prick.”
“Don’t walk out,” I told her. “A lot of people would be happy for any kind of job they could get. Can’t you just stick it out a little longer? You know what they say. Don’t quit your old job until you have the new one lined up.”
She brushed my hands away. �
��You want that job? You can have it. I’m sure Paulo is looking for a new waitress right now.”
In a flash, she jumped to her feet and stormed out of the cafe. The door slammed behind her. I stared at the place where Angela used to be. Work as a waitress in a coffee shop? Serve hot drinks to a bunch of washed-up nobodies? Why the hell not? I was a washed-up nobody myself. Things couldn’t possibly get any worse unless I failed to pay the rent and wound up on the streets. I would do anything to stop that from happening.
I stuck my phone in my pocket and inched toward the kitchen. I didn’t know Paulo. I never had anything to do with anybody in this place except the wait staff. I looked around the cash register for a minute until I heard cursing coming from the direction of the dishwasher.
I almost turned tail and ran, but the sheer desperate terror of my situation drove me forward. I crept around the front counter and stuck my head into the kitchen. A sweaty guy in a wife-beater shirt sprayed clouds of mist into the dishwasher sink. He glanced up when my head appeared. “What do you want?”
“I’m looking for Paulo.”
He jerked his chin at me. “I’m Paulo. Say what you want and get out of here.”
I waved over my shoulder at the counter. “Angela just quit. I was wondering if I could apply for the job. I’m really good with numbers, and I have references.”
He looked me up and down. “You’re the girl from F.P. Ferguson, aren’t you?”
I stared at him in horror. “How do you know about that?”
“F.P. Ferguson was my accountant before they closed down. I know all about it, and there’s no way in hell I would ever give someone from there a job. I wouldn’t give you a job scrubbing the toilets, much less handling any money. Now get out.”
He went back to what he was doing. I stared at him one minute more before I staggered back out to the cafe. I slumped onto my usual couch, but I had to remind myself to blink. I couldn’t sink any lower than this. I couldn’t even get a job when someone just quit. My past dogged my every step. Now what was I going to do?