"Don't give me that. You've been out of it for weeks now. If you don't go to this one, I gotta drop you." He wasn't mean exactly, just perfunctory. He was right too. I don't know why I was clinging to the idea of keeping my agent when I was waiting for a bus to take me back to Idaho.
I thanked him and hung up, with no intention of going. It was too late for me. The bus doors opened and my heart seized. My head went light. Maybe you're giving up too easily. But I was broke, and I was hurt, and I didn't know what else to do. There was a quarter laying on the ground. I bent over and picked it up, deciding at that instant to leave it to fate. After all, fate had steered me to Brett's house, and despite all that had happened there, I was glad for the time we'd shared
"Heads I stay, tails I go." I took a deep breath and flipped the coin high into the air. Heads. Relief flooded me. I turned and headed back to Hollywood. One last audition couldn't hurt anything. If I bombed it, I could still take a later bus.
It was one of the largest casting calls I'd ever been to. The room was filled with trampy looking blondes and plastic boobs. I saw Melissa in a corner. She saw me and waved, then stuck her tongue out like a fourth grader and leaned towards the person next to her. Soon they were pointing and cackling at me.
I had no idea how I'd landed this audition. I didn't fit in with any of the girls here. They were all skinny and dressed like they were going to a club. Skin tight dresses clung to their manmade curves, making me ill. It was like they'd called me in just for a joke. I sat in a chair and pulled my phone out. I'd been hoping Brett would at least text me when he woke up this morning and read my note, but there'd been nothing. Even a simple "good-bye" would have been nice.
He'd slept the whole day yesterday, or at least up until the time I'd left. I'd sat waiting for him to get up, thinking we could talk, and had finally decided it was pointless. Maybe the extra sleep was some weird side effect of turning into a dragon. I'd let him sleep while I slipped out and spent the night on a park bench at Griffith Park. It was the same bench I'd slept on the night that Colin had tried to drive me out of the apartment by screwing another girl with a mega phone attached to the bed.
I paced the room like I usually did before an audition. The script they'd given me to go over was short and humorous. I thought the part would actually be better suited to someone like me, rather than the stick figures that permeated the room. It was a dark romantic comedy, about a woman in love with a man she couldn't have. He wasn't a dragon, he was just rich. And she was poor. It was close enough to hit home for me.
I turned and saw Leah, the floozy that Colin had brought home that time, sitting with her legs crossed and her lips pumped full of collagen. I tried to turn before she saw me but it was too late. She waved and started walking towards me. Just then, they called my name.
"Sorry," I told her, "that's me."
I ran into the room and almost knocked over a casting assistant who was trying to bring his boss a coffee. The room was dark, except for a few lights shining in front of a row of chairs filled with people. I couldn't even see the back of the room. It was a little unusual. Generally, the rooms were brightly lit and sometimes cameras were even set up to capture your audition.
The casting director glanced down at his paper without any introduction. "Start whenever you're ready," he said. "Renee will read with you." He indicated an eighteen or nineteen year old girl on his right.
My heart hammered in my chest. How was I supposed to pretend that that girl was the man I was in love with? This was a pivotal scene. I wished I was at least reading with a cute guy, not someone who reminded me of all the things I hated about this city. I sighed. It wouldn't be the first time I bombed an audition, but if I didn't nail it, it would be the last.
"Um," I said, kicking myself for the lack of confidence in my voice. I understood this part perfectly. There was nothing to be afraid of. I reread the lines, trying to feel the emotion. "Okay, I guess. Ready."
I had the first line. It came out sounded flat and stilted. The girl reading with me didn't help. She had no personality (or maybe she was just bored) and read everything in a monotone. I tried my best to deliver the lines the way I knew they should be, but nothing helped. By the time I was done, I'd already decided to leave and go back to the bus stop. No good could come for me in Los Angeles.
"Alright, Ms. McGrath. Thank you," the casting director said. I moved toward the exit but froze when a strong voice reached out of the shadows from the back of the room.
"Let's try it again," the voice said. "I'll read with you this time. If you don't mind, that is, Ms. McGrath." Brett stepped from the shadows, his face luminous. He looked almost like a whole new person. The haggard lines were gone from his face. The pain that had been permanently etched there since I'd met him was gone. He actually looked happy. My throat dried up.
"Hi," I said, then noticed the casting director watching me a little too closely. "I mean, um, sure. Whatever you say." Brett stepped to the front of the room with me and took the script from the girl I'd just read with.
"Whenever you're ready," Brett said. I started again. This time, the words came alive. I didn't have to fake the emotions; they were there waiting for me. I moved in the body of the character, feeling everything she felt and more. By the time we had finished, the casting director was on his feet, moving towards me.
"Wonderful!" he shouted. "Exactly right!" He began making notes and talking to another man about calling my agent. Brett pulled me aside.
"I'm sorry," he whispered.
"For what?" I squeaked.
"For thinking I could live without you, when I am so madly in love with you." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "You said once that you wanted to help me find my treasure." I nodded, breathless. "Well, you've already found it for me," he said. "My treasure- is you."
Tears welled in my eyes. I threw my arms around his neck and he held me so tightly I could barely breathe.
He leaned his head down and whispered against the soft flesh of my neck, “Kaitlyn. The heart of the dragon.”
I could tell by the way he held me that he'd never again let me go.
Epilogue
Someone was nudging me. I opened one eye and saw Brett staring at me, coffee in his hand.
"Ugh," I said, covering my head with the pillow. "You said I could sleep in today."
"You did," he smiled, setting the coffee on my nightstand. "It's almost noon."
I threw the pillow back and stared at him, unbelieving. "It is?" He nodded. "I can't remember the last time I slept so late."
"Well, you deserve it."
I beamed at him and held out my hands.
"Where is it? Give it to me."
He laughed. "Are you gonna start sleeping with it now?"
"No," I pouted. "But I just got it last night. It's gonna take at least another week before the thrill is gone."
"From what I hear," Brett said, handing me a golden statue with my name scrolled across the bottom, "the thrill never goes away."
I smiled and clung to my Oscar like it was a new teddy bear. Brett handed me something else.
"Check out the paper," he said. "And I think your mom sent you like fifty text messages." I rolled my eyes and opened the paper. The headline screamed at me:
POWER COUPLE SWEEPS OSCARS, KAITLYN ELLIOT WINS BEST ACTRESS
I laughed and threw the paper in the air like a rocket. "Feels good, doesn't it?" he asked. "I've still got about eight more Oscars than you, you know," he said, kissing my forehead.
"Yeah, but I'll catch up fast. Just you wait." I smacked his cheek lightly and he jumped into bed with me, his hands shooting out and tickling me in all the right places.
"Wait, wait!" I squealed. There was a quick knock on the door and Jeremy poked his head in. His cheeks flushed when he saw us in bed.
"Sorry," he said. "Just checking," then he winked at me and shut the door again.
Brett rolled his eyes. "It's been eight months. You'd think he'd lighten up by now."
Brett laughed. "So crass... so cute."
I picked my phone up, ignoring the hundred other messages I had and searching for my mother's.
"Oh my God," I mumbled.
"What? Is she still convinced I'm using you for your body?" At our wedding, my mother had tried to talk Brett out of marrying me. She was convinced that he was using me for my body and that he'd get tired of it fast and go looking for a real woman. One who wasn't so fat.
"No," I said, covering my mouth with my hands, fighting back tears rising from my giggles. "She says..." I could barely get the words out; I was choking on the laughter. "She says that... that..."
"Oh just give it to me," Brett said, swiping the phone from my hand and reading. "Darling," he looked at me. "Darling? Has she ever called you that?"
I shook my head. "Not in my life."
He continued. "Darling, I've always known you were special. I've always believed in you. You were too good for Colin. By the way, the roof in my house is leaking."
Brett tossed the phone aside and pulled me into his arms, laughing. "Tell you what," he said. "We'll invite her over next month. Really show her what she's missing out on there in Idaho."
I kissed him and felt my body tense. The passion between us hadn't slipped one bit in the last eight months, and I didn't think it ever would. "You invite my mom out if you want, only give me plenty of notice so I can make sure to book myself a weekend at Lake Tahoe."
Brett wrapped his arms around me and drew me close. His sweet scent filled my lungs, and I thought how lucky I was that his treasure and my dreams were one and the same.
THE END
THE LION’S CLAIM
STORY DESCRIPTION
Everyone in the city knows Jakob Moore, the billionaire playboy whose face graces the covers of multi- national newspapers and magazines. Referred to as one of the world’s richest eligible bachelors, as well as a cutthroat businessman and CEO, Jakob is well aware of his reputation. He’s proud of it!
After all, he’s the CEO of a highly successful corporation, King of his lion shifter pride, has a different girl on his arm every night… what man in his right mind wouldn’t envy him? His life is damn near perfect… until the fateful afternoon he runs into sweet, curvy Bree Reynolds. Literally.
Suddenly, Jakob’s fabulous high-powered world becomes hollow and superficial. In fact, nothing in his life means anything to him unless he can claim Bree as his mate.
Bree Reynold’s parents are pressuring her to marry, but not to just any man. They want her to find a husband whose financial and social status will rival their own. But, there's not a man alive who can pin Bree down. If her parents' horrendous marriage wasn't enough to convince her that love is a sham, then her last few years working as a marriage counselor certainly was. Bree has been surrounded by awful relationships and painful, troublesome marriages.
When Jakob Moore enters her life, he's already got two strikes against him. He's rich, and he thinks he loves her. He’s quick to learn that the only thing Bree hates more than the phony concept of love, is money.
Surrounded by yes men, Jakob is used to getting what he wants, but with stubborn, headstrong Bree, he certainly has his work cut out for him. Bree’s mind is made up, and no man will convince her otherwise. Not even Jakob Moore, the sexy CEO who makes her pulse race and her knees weak.
When Bree gets dragged into danger because of him, Jakob has had enough and now he will stop at nothing to save her and mate her. But, will Bree accept this Shifter into her life before it's too late, or will her stubbornness be the end of her?
Chapter 1
Bree Reynolds sat in her office listening to Mary and Peter Ableman discuss their sex life—or lack thereof—for the third time this month. When she'd ditched law school to go into marriage counseling, she'd thought she'd be saving marriages. Since graduating and getting her job at Oasis Counseling Services, she hadn't seen one couple successfully redesign their marriage into a happy one. Oh, plenty of couples stayed married after coming to see her, but those marriages consisted mostly of women who'd decided to accept their husband's infidelities, or men who'd decided to stay with their nagging, ball crushing wives for the kids' sake.
That was a big one: for the sake of the kids. She heard it all the time from couples. She knew she should just stop asking, but inevitably she'd put the question to them: Do you still love each other? Think about each other during the day? Miss each other when you're not together? The inevitable answer was always: Well, no, but for the sake of the kids...
Her phone vibrated and she looked down to see a text from her mother.
Are you coming to our anniversary dinner? I haven't received your RSVP. Your father's not well, you know. It could kill him if he doesn't see you.
Talk about passionless marriages. Bree's parents had decided that making money was their top priority, and everything else was a distant second. They were richer than Bree would ever be, but they hadn't loved each other since she was five. She was twenty-six now. That's a lot of years to spend with someone you can't stand. Bree rolled her eyes and looked up to see Mary and Peter staring at her.
"Sorry," she said, "did you say something?" Bree caught her reflection in the mirror and smiled at her new haircut. The hairdresser had been right. It complemented her round face and the curves of her body. Somehow her bright green eyes looked that much brighter with a cute bob and red highlights.
"I asked," Mary said, her voice barely audible over Peter's heavy breathing. "If you thought it was worth it for us to stay together?" She burst into tears then and Peter automatically stuck out his hand and patted her knee. It would have been sweet if Bree didn't know the main reason for Mary's tears was because of the twenty-year-old secretary she'd caught Peter screwing not long ago.
Bree replied with her much rehearsed answer to such questions. "There's still a lot of work to do, but if you love each other, that work can be done. Marriage is tough for everyone."
Which is exactly why I'm never getting married. No marriage plus no kids equals a happy life.
She looked out the window and wished she could be outside and away from this constant reminder that all the movies and songs got it wrong. There was no such thing as happily ever after.
***
Jakob Moore sat behind his mahogany desk and looked at his watch. The overhead lights flickered on the gold, creating a rich tapestry of yellows and creams that made his watch look shiny and expensive. Considering the fact that it was expensive- very, Jakob appreciated the opulence of it as it gleamed against the tan of his skin.
Blake scanned Jakob's face, uncertain if he should speak. He hated feeling inferior to anyone, especially Jakob. But that's what being second in command meant—you were always inferior to the King above you.
"Well?" Jakob asked. With this new deal coming up, there was nothing to be left to chance. Jakob had planned this takeover for too long. Putting his competition out of business was the only thing he'd thought of for the last several months, carefully plotting each move before taking action. That was what any good leader did—thought of a solution, then implemented it. The takeover wasn't about getting rich—Jakob already had billions more than he could count—it was about protecting his pride from their rival company.
If one rival was able to make a dent in his production, reduce his income by even one percent, the whole pride would suffer. The pride depended on him not just for money, but for their lives. It was Jakob's company—he was the alpha, the King, after all—but it was run by his pride, and they depended on him to make sure it continued.
"Well?" Jakob demanded, baring his teeth a little more. He did not like waiting for answers.
"If I gave anyone the impression I was displeased with you in any way," Blake said, hiding the snarl that tried to rise in his throat, "I apologize. You know that's not true. My only intention when spe
aking with Mark was to emphasize how important this deal is. When we crush Remy Riders, it will make our own product that much stronger, and our pride that much more powerful."
Jakob nodded. He knew Blake wasn't being entirely honest, as pride leader he could sense even the hint of a lie, but he also knew Blake was loyal. If he'd sensed any semblance of disloyalty, he'd have banished him from the pride right then and there. As the King, it was sometimes important to distinguish between disloyalty and someone blowing off steam.
"Now leave me," Jakob said, running his hand over the golden blonde scruff on his chin, "I need to get ready."
Chapter 2
"No, Mom." Bree stepped out of her office building. It was five o'clock and she needed a latte. The phone burned against her ear as she hurried down the street. "No, Mom."
"But Bree," her mom persisted, "you're almost thirty. You need a man. Why don't you just meet Walter? He's cute."
Bree scoffed. Cute to her mom usually meant someone either way too old or way too young for Bree. "He's probably rich too, right?"
"Well..." her mother said. "He could support you. Then you could quit that God awful job you have. I still don't know what you were thinking when you quit law school. It was probably the worst thing you could have done. Other than letting yourself get fat, of course."
"I'm not fat Mom. And I like my job." Both things were true. The curves of Bree's body were not made of fat, they were fashioned from a certain type of sex appeal her mom wished she had herself, instead of the stick figure and bird's legs she'd been cursed with. Bree was voluptuous and although she resisted any advances men made towards her, that didn't stop her from appreciating the way most men's eyes followed her as she moved across a room.
As for her job, despite feeling like the couples she counseled were all doomed, she also felt that she could help them get through the encroaching darkness a little easier. She thought there were times she at least made the failure of marriage a little easier to take.
BOX SET: Shifter 4-Pack Vol 2 (Wolf Shifter, Dragon Shifter, Mafia, Billionaire, BBW, Alpha) (Werewolf Weredragon Paranormal Fantasy Romance Collection) Page 95