BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection)

by Candace Ayers

  It looked like it was three floors with a domed roof and yard so big they could have had a professional football team play on it. I was shocked that there were no gates or fence of any kind. I parked my car in the driveway and went right up to the door, looking around as if someone was going to jump out and arrest me for trespassing. The house was too rich for someone like me. I don't belong here.

  I rang the bell and a great gong sounded inside. A minute later the door opened and a stout, severe looking man with dark eyes and graying hair opened the door.

  "H-hi," I stammered. "I'm Kaitlyn McGrath. I'm here for the interview." My voice barely squeaked out of my throat. This man was intense. If this was who I was interviewing for, I might as well leave now. I couldn't work with his critical eyes and cold presence.

  "Come in," he said. "I am the butler."

  I smiled and said, "Is that your name?" I thought maybe he didn't get the joke from the way he was looking at me. "You know, The Butler?" I was trying to be funny, but he didn't even crack a smile.

  "No. Jeremy. O'Donnell."

  "Oh." I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Okay. Jeremy O'Donnell."

  His voice was warmer than his appearance but that didn't mean much. I thought I detected a hint of an Irish accent, but didn't dare ask about it. He didn't offer to shake my hand, he just led me down a long hallway that felt like it might never end. He looked a bit like a zombie, standing with his back stiff and his legs unnaturally straight. Even when he walked, he moved funny.

  I followed him into a great room richly furnished and decorated with what I assumed were priceless works of art. A giant window spanned the back wall of this room, letting in lots of natural light that seemed to contrast with the museum feel of the house. There was a giant pool in the backyard that could've been used to train Olympic athletes. I started to ask if it actually was used for that purpose, when another man entered the room.

  This man was younger and incredibly good looking. Thirty-one or thirty-two, with deep blue-green eyes that shined like gemstones.

  "Ms. McGrath?" he asked. His voice caught me off guard. It was deep and filled with the rich undertones of a saxophone. Listening to him talk was like listening to a fine instrument being played by a concert musician.

  "Hello," I said. "You can call me Kaitlyn."

  "I'm Brett Elliot. You may call me Mr. Elliot, or Sir." Then he shot Jeremy a look that made it plain he didn't want me here.

  I tried to stop my hands from shaking and pulled my resume from my bag. I held it out and took a step towards Brett—Mr. Elliot.

  "What's that?" he asked, taking a step back and looking like I'd tried to hand him rat poison.

  "Er, my resume."

  He signaled to Jeremy who took it and put it in a drawer. I figured it was probably a bad sign when the boss didn't even want to read your resume.

  "What is your middle name?" Brett asked.

  "Um... Mary."

  "Where is your family from?"

  "What? Idaho." Was this the interview?

  He shook his head like I'd just told him the square root of nine is five. "No no no, where are they from originally? Your heritage Ms. McGrath, your heritage!" His face turned red and Jeremy stepped from the corner of the room. I'd almost forgotten he was there. He cleared his throat and Mr. Elliot shot him an angry look.

  "You do this," Mr. Elliot snarled and walked towards the door.

  "I don't think that's a very good idea, Mr. Elliot," said Jeremy, stepping towards him. There was something implied in Jeremy's statement. A veiled threat that I didn't understand, but could pick up on easily enough. The man paused and, to my surprise, returned to his spot.

  "Fine, go ahead," Mr. Elliot waved his hand in the air, cutting through it like a knife. I stood watching, uncertain whether I should leave or simply remain quiet.

  "I said go ahead," he yelled, looking at me with a mixture of exasperation and curiosity.

  "Are you talking to me?" I asked, startled. I'd assumed he'd been speaking to Jeremy.

  "Yes you, of course you. Go on."

  "Go on with what? Er… sir."

  "Your story," he said, as if were obvious. "Where are your people from?"

  "Oh, um my mom's family is mostly Irish. My dad's English, Scottish, and Native American. Kind of a mutt, really, huh?"

  I tried smiling but he just looked at the floor. I could feel his anger flowing towards me. This was a bad environment to be in. Even if I got the job, I wasn't sure I wanted to be here. Still, the memories of Colin and Leah played back for me in my head. One particular highlight, which I was certain to carry with me all the days of my life, was when Leah had come out of the bedroom naked to get some water. I could smell Colin on her; it made me gag.

  "How much do you weigh? he asked.

  "Excuse me?" Jeremy shot me a worried glance but I checked my rising temper. "None of your business," I said.

  Brett glared at me from across the room. "Tell me your height."

  "My height?"

  "Yes, your height. Surely you can't object to that."

  "Well... 5' 5".

  He smiled. "Was that so difficult?"

  I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself down. "Do you want to ask me about previous work experience?"

  "That won't be necessary," he said. "The interview is over."

  Great. Another job down the drain. I grabbed my purse and headed for the door, anxious to get away from this rich asshole.

  "Do you have any questions for me, Ms. McGrath?" I paused mid-stride.

  "What for?"

  "Well," that seemed to catch him off guard. "Wouldn't you like to inquire about salary or see the living quarters?"

  "Not sure I see the point," I snapped. Was this guy fucking with me or what?

  "I don't understand."

  "I didn't get the job, right? Why should I want to know any of that stuff?"

  "What makes you think you didn't get it?" he asked, his eyes glowing. It was like staring into the deepest parts of the ocean.

  "You mean..." I suddenly felt my cheeks growing red. "You mean I got it?"

  "I haven't decided yet."

  "Oh, I thought..."

  He waited in silence. I could sense his irritation. "Fine then. If there is nothing more, you may go."

  I hesitated. "Well I do have one question."

  "Yes, what?"

  "The job is listed as 'caretaker.' What exactly would I be taking care of?"

  Mr. Eliott’s eyes flashed to Jeremy's. I didn't quite catch the look, but I didn't need to. He thought it was a stupid question. He turned his eyes back to mine, and I felt them latch on to me. I was drawn to him at the same time I was repulsed by his attitude.

  "You'd be caring for me, of course." He said. Then exited the room before I could ask anything else.

  Chapter 3

  I was sitting in the waiting room of Ritz casting, squished between a loud, snobby blonde with breast implants, and a stick figure brunette with breast implants. They kept leaning across my lap to talk to each other, and I wondered why they didn't just move. When the brunette with too much makeup spritzed perfume all over me, I wondered why I didn't just move.

  "Thank God," the blonde said when I got up. "I thought chubbo would never leave." She took my seat and I looked up to see them both looking in my direction and laughing. I felt the blood rush to my cheeks and turned away from them.

  They were the same over-processed girls I saw everywhere out here. Only I thought I recognized these particular two. We all seemed to make the same rounds of auditions, though I wasn't exactly sure of their names. I thought the blonde was maybe Melissa something and the brunette... I didn't know and didn't care. Especially when they appeared to have the personality of a wet rag, which was really an insult to wet rags.

  "I mean, God, did you see her makeup? What is she thinking? Doesn't she know that peach blush went out with the eighties?"

  My shoulders stiffened. Are they talking about me? I wanted to turn around and yel
l at them, but I was afraid of getting thrown out of the audition. "Oh my God Carri I know, and that shirt. I didn't think you could fit such a Twinkie inside a crop top. And green?" She said it like I was wearing puke.

  "I think she's trying to look like a leprechaun." They doubled over laughing.

  I realized what they were doing. Competition was fierce out here, and some personality types (ahem…bitches) liked to use bullying intimidation tactics. Nevertheless, I looked down at my shirt. I thought it was pretty. It wasn't a crop top, it was just a simple blouse that showed off my cleavage and highlighted the green in my hazel eyes.

  "Well now to be fair, what can you wear when you're so fat and homely looking? I mean, nothing is gonna look good on her, right?" They burst into a fresh round of giggles and I felt my eyes well up with tears. Do. Not. Cry. Usually I had a thicker skin. Lately, it seemed like I was crying every minute of every day.

  My eyes were puffier than usual and it didn't help that Colin had made it his mission to keep me up nights. His casual romps with easy women indicated an express desire to set some sort of word record for sexual conquests. Last night, the noises in his room had been so bad I'd finally left in the middle of the night and gone to Griffith Park. Sleeping on a park bench was about as uncomfortable as it sounds.

  When Melissa threw a rolled up gum wrapper at me I finally lost my temper and spun around. "What the hell is your problem?" I snapped.

  Instead of looking embarrassed, they roared with laughter. "Oh my God, it talks."

  "Yeah, we're sorry, we thought you were, you know, 'special,' " said Melissa, making finger air quotes. "It didn't occur to us that you might actually be smart enough to understand what we were saying."

  Fresh tears gathered in the corners of my eyes. I whipped my head back around to face the wall, not wanting them to see the water spill over my cheeks. "Oh my God," said Melissa. "We made her cry."

  Dammit! I cursed myself for not having better control.

  "It's easy to make babies cry. Hey honey, " Carri said leaning forward. "You're too soft for this town."

  "And too big," said Melissa. Their cackles rang across the room. There were at least forty others in here with us, and they were all watching me. Not one person came to my defense. I didn't even have a friend that I could call and commiserate with. I realized for the first time how truly alone I was in the world.

  I hid my face in my hands and walked quietly yet quickly to the bathroom. I wanted to leave the audition, but I didn't dare. My agent might work out of the trunk of his car, but he'd gone to a lot of trouble to get me here. If I left now, there'd be no coming back. Besides, I was too strong to let two dime-a-dozen floozie-wanna-be’s run me out of an audition.

  I cleaned my face up as best I could and went back into the waiting room, sitting as far away from Melissa and Carri as possible. They seemed to have lost interest in me while I was in the bathroom. I took a chair and pretended to be incredibly engrossed in my phone. My message screen popped up and I clicked on a new email from my mom.

  Katie, when are you coming home? I talked to Colin and he says you're broke and not working. I told you moving to Hollywood was a bad idea. You never listen to me. Colin was the one good thing in your life and look how you messed that up.

  Just come home already and put this silly dream of yours away. If acting is that important to you, I can talk to Minister Cromwell. Maybe you can participate in the Christmas pageant this year. Doesn't that sound nice?

  You're twenty-three. It's time to grow up. Some people just aren't meant to be spectacular. There’s nothing wrong with ordinary. Please stop running after foolish pipedreams and accept who you are.

  Love, Mom

  I thought that was possibly the worst, most depressing email she'd ever sent me. My mom was a master manipulator, and now she was trying to get me to move back to the town I couldn't wait to get out of in the first place. What would I do if I moved back there? Work at the library for the rest of my life? Bliss, Idaho's library had no more than five hundred books and closed at three o'clock every day. The best I could hope for in Bliss was that I'd die young and be put out of my misery.

  I was still staring at my mom's email when my phone buzzed and I nearly dropped it. The caller i.d. was blocked but I had a strange feeling I knew who it was.

  Jeremy's voice rang out from the other end. "Ms. McGrath?"

  I nodded, too frightened to speak, then realized he couldn't actually see me nod. "Yes?"

  "This is Jeremy, Mr. Elliot's butler. He has asked me to call you and tell you that he needs you."

  "Excuse me?"

  "The job is yours if you would still like it. But you need to come now."

  I looked at the dwindling number of people in the waiting room. I was going to be called up soon. "Er, well, I can't come right now. How about five-ish? Would that be alright?"

  It was three now. If they called me in the next twenty minutes, I'd be able to make it to the Elliot estate in time.

  "I'm sorry," Jeremy said. "Five is too late. Mr. Elliot wants you now." There was that undercurrent of a threat that I'd recognized in Jeremy's voice the other day.

  I started to hyperventilate. I needed time to think. "Well, but, I'm busy right now."

  Jeremy's voice came back cool and crisp. "It's now or never, Ms. McGrath."

  Everything rushed through my mind in one quick vision. I saw Melissa and her friend whispering to each other, pointing at me again and laughing. I had no money in the bank. Everything I owned was in my car, which was on its last legs and due for an oil change. The few possessions I had—some clothes and a few books—I refused to leave at Colin's anymore because I was afraid they wouldn't be there when I got back. And I knew he had another date tonight. I needed some sleep. I needed some food. I needed to be able to stay in L.A. so that I wouldn't have to run home with my tail between my legs, a complete failure.

  "Alright," I said. "I'm on my way."

  Chapter 4

  I rang the bell and Jeremy answered. I was getting accustomed to his cold, cynical eyes, but that didn't mean I liked them. He ushered me inside with barely a hello and led me down the same hallway as yesterday.

  "Um, where's Bre—Mr. Elliot?"

  "He's resting before dinner."

  "Oh." Resting? If he was resting, then what was so urgent that he needed me this second? "What exactly is it that he needs me to do right now? I was in the middle of an audition when you called, you know." I was hoping to elicit some sort of apology or sympathy or something from Jeremy, but he just increased his pace. I had to hurry to keep up with him. "Can you tell me anything?"

  But Jeremy either didn't hear me or was ignoring my questions. He led me to a staircase that was like something out of an old movie. White marble stairs wrapped around in a spiral, leading up to the second floor. It reminded me of something from Gone with the Wind or Sunset Boulevard. I followed Jeremy up the marble, feeling a little grungy in my sneakers and sweats.

  At the top of the stairs was another long, wide hallway laid with rich red carpet. Deep mahogany doors stood at either end of the hall. The two rooms appeared to take up the entire floor. "This is your room," Jeremy said, leading me to the door on the left. "The room across from yours is Mr. Elliot's."

  "This is my room?" I gasped. It must be huge inside. "Where's your room?"

  "Downstairs."

  Oh," I said, a little unsettled that Brett- Mr. Elliott and I would have the only two rooms on this floor. "Are there other servants here?" I asked, thinking that for a place this size there must be maids and cooks.

  "Yes, but they do not sleep here. Only you will enjoy that privilege."

  He opened the door to my room just then and all my concerns slipped away. I felt my mouth fall open in a silent "Oh." A king sized canopy bed dominated the room. It was covered in gold and burgundy and looked like something fit for a queen, not a small town girl who didn't even have a savings account.

  "This is my room?" I asked again. "Are you sure?" />
  For the first time, Jeremy chuckled and a rare smile lit his eyes. "Quite sure." Then the smile was gone and he was his old, stodgy self again.

  "Please dress for dinner," Jeremy said. "Mr. Elliot will meet you in the dining hall. It is back down the stairs and to your right. If you get lost, simply find one of the house buttons and push it. I will direct you."

  House buttons? What the hell was a house button? He started backing out of the room.

  "Wait!" I shouted, spinning around. I had so few details about what I was supposed to do here. "Is there a uniform or something?"

  Jeremy looked at me like he didn't understand. "For dinner," I explained. "You said I should go down and meet him for dinner right?" I was getting frustrated. I wasn't asking for a lot, but a few details about what was expected of me would be nice. "Am I supposed to serve him dinner or something?" A new thought occurred to me. Oh God. "I'm not supposed to cook for him, am I?"

  I thought I almost saw Jeremy smile again, but it was either an illusion or he was so practiced at repressing his emotions that he shoved it back down with hardly a thought. "There is no uniform. There is only a dress. It is on the bed. You will find others in your closet. If they are not to your liking, they can be replaced. However," he hesitated, "Mr. Elliot selected that dress himself, especially for you." He started to close the door again.

  "Wait, wait! I still don't understand. What are my hours?"

  He looked anxious to leave the room. "You are like me. On call twenty-four hours a day. When Mr. Elliot needs something, he will send for you."

  "Send for me how? What does that even mean? What is my job here exactly?"