“Hey there,” Matt said when she appeared in the kitchen.
“Good mornin’,” Luke said, making way for her at the table.
“I hope you don’t mind us borrowin’ your kitchen,” Bart said, as he flipped pancakes in one of her square frying pans.
“Not at all,” she said, surprised to find it was the truth.
“Uncle Bart’s famous for his flapjacks,” John assured her, reaching into her cabinet for another plate on which he placed some crispy bacon before handing the plate to Bart for some pancakes. He set the plate down in front of Mel.
“Uh, I don’t usually eat a big breakfast,” she said.
“Did you even take the time for dinner last night?” Bart asked.
Mel had to think about it. “I guess not.”
“Then eat up, darlin’,” he said. “We got a long day ahead of us, and you need feedin’ up for it.”
Mel couldn’t help but smile—until she noticed the kitchen clock.
“Oh, my God. I am so late.”
She tried to stand up too quickly, though, and Matt grabbed her before she could faint.”
“Easy, darlin’,” he said, carefully lowering her to her chair.
“You don’t understand. I’ll lose my job for sure, if I’m three hours late for work!”
“Now, how can you be goin’ into work, if you’re busy recruitin’ the Konstantine Talent Agency’s newest band?” Mark asked.
Mel looked around at all of them, a flicker of hope sparking as she saw they were serious.
“Do you mean it?” she asked.
“Well, there’re some stipulations that need to be met, before we sign any contract,” Bart said, lifting the last of the pancakes onto a plate and reaching to turn off the burner before joining her at the table with his own breakfast. “We’ve all seen what the ‘country western’ set has become, and the boys aren’t gonna go along with most of it.”
Mel swallowed her bite of pancake and eyed Bart closely.
“What do you mean?”
“He means we don’t hold with all the electronic stuff, flashing lights, pyrotechnics, or any of that crap,” Luke said.
“We play acoustical instruments,” Mark said, “and while we expect to need amplification in a bigger space, we’re not gonna be blastin’ our sound to kingdom come. It’s the music that’s important, and it doesn’t mean anything, if the audience can’t hear the lyrics.”
“Bart handles all our sound and lightin’,” Matt added. “He always has and always will.”
“I see.” Mel took a deep breath and sipped at the cup of tea that had magically appeared at her hand. “I’m not certain Kitty will go for that, but I will certainly do everything I can to make it happen.”
“There’s no choice, Mel,” Matt said. “You saw what can happen when there’s a big ruckus. You start shootin’ fireworks, flashin’ lights and smoke, all that crap, and we not only won’t be able to sing worth a damn, we may not even be able to keep from Shiftin’.”
“Oh.” Mel looked at each of them in turn, felt a jolt as she looked into those deep golden eyes, and realized they were not being difficult. While she had no intention of telling Kitty Konstantine of all people about their natures as Shifters, she knew she had to make her boss believe their way was the best way, the only way.
I can’t believe I have to even consider all this, she thought. Twenty-four hours ago, I’m not sure I even really believed Shifters exited.
Then she turned and looked into Matt’s golden eyes and remembered the way he had Shifted for her last night and took a deep breath.
“Well, then, that’s the way it will be.”
“Don’t worry about Uncle Bart not bein’ up to it,” John said. “He’s had real trainin’ in lights and sound.”
“Went to Las Vegas for it,” Luke added.
“He’s licensed in Tennessee, too,” Matt said, “so you don’t have to worry that some venue won’t let him handle their equipment.”
“That’s a relief,” Mel said, taking a bit of bacon and pausing to savor the smoky taste of it. Due to her very limited budget, she rarely splurged on things like bacon, and for some reason, it tasted particularly good today.
“Do you think this Kitty woman will go for it?” Bart asked.
Mel thought for a moment. “Do you guys have a CD?”
“Sure,” Matt said. “We got some out in the van.”
“In that case, we just need to be certain we get Kitty to listen to it, before she kicks us all out of her office.”
“It seems to me you’re riskin’ a powerful lot on what you heard the boys do the other night,” Bart said.
Mel took a deep breath. “Perhaps. But if we can’t sell Kitty on their talent, then I’m out of a job, anyway.”
“Would she really fire you?” John asked.
Mel nodded and glanced at the clock. “I haven’t checked in with the office in almost twelve hours, and I’m already three hours late for work this morning, so yes, she’ll fire me—unless I can sell her on what you can do. A new hit is the only thing that’s going to distract her.”
She sipped her tea and refused to meet any of their eyes. Of course, she might just fire me, anyway, she thought, but she wasn’t going to tell the Saints that.
Bart reached out to lay his big hand on hers and give it a gentle squeeze. When she looked up to meet his golden eyes, he smiled.
“I guess keepin’ your job’s just gonna have to be one of the stipulations I mentioned before,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.
Mel raised her eyebrows in surprise and quickly scanned all their faces.
“Do you really mean that?”
“Sure I do,” Bart said. “If you’re not our contact at the Konstantine Talent Agency, then we’ll sign with somebody else.”
“Or not at all,” Matt added. “We’re not lookin’ to get rich. We’re just tryin’ to earn some money to send back home.”
“Don’t need ‘rich’,” Luke added. “Not when we got family.”
Mel smiled. “I’m beginning to really like all of you, Mr. Saint.”
Luke grinned. “That’s good, on account of we’re gettin’ to like you real well, too, Miss Darlin’.”
Mel laughed with them and began to gather up the empty dishes.
“Let the boys take care of that,” Bart said. “You and Matt and me, we need to sit down and plan some strategy.”
“All right.”
They settled in the living room while the three younger Saints cleaned up breakfast. Twenty minutes later, Bart nodded in satisfaction.
“Let’s do it.”
Matt reached out to touch her cheek, and when she looked his way, he smiled.
“You might want to get changed and do somethin’ about that shiner before we leave.”
Mel closed her eyes and suppressed a moan.
“There is no way Kitty isn’t going to notice it.”
“You must have one of those ‘power’ suits,” Bart said. “Dressin’ sharp is the first step to distractin’ anybody.”
“I guess. I don’t suppose all of you could…”
Bart grinned. “Don’t worry. We can clean up when we want to.”
Mel returned his grin and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as she stood and headed for her bedroom, relieved that for the most part, only a headache lingered. She stared at the contents of her closet for a full five minutes before she nodded firmly and reached for her favorite suit. Kitty always insisted her “minions” wear skirts and heels, but with Bart Saint to back her up, Mel decided it was time to make her own mark on the Agency.
She took a quick, very hot shower, dried, then spread an aloe-based lotion all over her body and face. She might not smell like a sexy beauty queen, but her bruises and scrapes certainly felt better for the treatment. Studying herself closely in the mirror, she realized that the bruise on her cheek had not invaded her eye socket, so there was no black eye to cover up. She wasn’t certain if she was relieved or sor
ry, but decided it was probably a good thing. Standing there in her panties and bra, she did all she could to mask her bruised cheek and get her hair into some semblance of sophistication. Finally satisfied she had done all she could, she reached for her suit.
The charcoal gray pinstripe was just the thing to add classiness and height to her otherwise average build. The suit had slacks rather than a skirt, but the addition of a scarlet silk blouse and black, high-heeled pumps took her from “this is business” to “I have a secret.” She debated letting what she had of cleavage show then decided the bruise on her neck and sternum would ruin the effect, so she buttoned it up to the high collar and added a shimmery, dangling broach that had belonged to her grandmother. For once, her hair was cooperating, and the tone of her blouse gave those wavy locks a deep auburn hue that took her from simple red head to stunning.
One last look in her full-length mirror, and Mel decided she would do—if only she didn’t lose her nerve. The bruise on her cheek wasn’t completely hidden, but she hoped Kitty would be so shocked by the outfit that her boss wouldn’t notice the heavy makeup that didn’t quite conceal it.
“Okay, champ,” she said, squaring her shoulders and taking a fortifying breath. “As Bart said, let’s do it.”
Without another glance at the mirror, Mel picked up her tote and headed for the living room.
The stunned expressions that met her entrance warmed her as nothing else could have done. If she blushed with pleasure, it only added to her appeal. Then she noticed Bart and let out a low whistle herself. His suit was coal black, as was his shirt and tie. Highly buffed dress shoes and sparkling cuff links and tie tack completed his transformation. Mel’s smile spread as she took him in.
“I think Kitty Konstantine will meet her match today,” she said.
“And we’re gonna double-team her,” Bart replied, offering her his arm.
Mel laughed as she took it. “The rest of you look pretty good, too,” she added, looking at each brother in turn. They had changed into clean, pressed jeans, tucked in their plaid flannel shirts and added jackets. They must have brought Matt his suitcase, because he, too, had changed.
“You ready, then?” Matt asked, crossing to her.
“Oh, yeah.”
Matt grinned. “Then let’s go.”
Because Mel’s apartment was located between downtown Nashville and Opryland, they were able to avoid the worst of the Monday mid-day traffic as they headed out. Since it was after noon when they arrived, parking near the front door of the Konstantine Talent Agency wasn’t a problem, as many of those who worked inside were out to lunch. Kitty would still be in, Mel was certain, as she stepped out of her car and waited for Bart to park their van. Her boss never took lunch meetings on Monday, and usually spent the day going over the reports from her minions on what they had “discovered” over the weekend. Mel signed in with the security guard at the front desk and had no trouble taking her “entourage” into the heart of the Agency. They certainly all looked as though they belonged there.
Mel felt eyes staring at her as she made her way through the lush interior of the Agency’s home office toward Kitty’s inner sanctum. The few who recognized her were shocked by her appearance, she knew. Those who did not recognize her were equally taken with her companions. Mel kept her shoulders back and her head high, knowing full well attitude was everything. Always walk into a place like you own it, Gran used to say, cause if you do, then someday you will.
Mel put a little extra swing into her stride as they passed her coworkers’ offices, just to be on the safe side.
Kitty Konstantine’s office was guarded by one of her “stud muffins,” as Mel thought of them—a series of very good looking, very young men Kitty hired as her secretaries. Kevin was the latest incarnation: tall, blond, and built like a model of men’s underwear, just as Kitty liked them. Mel had the satisfaction of the young man’s double-take when she sauntered up to his desk. His look of unabashed appreciation was replaced instantly by shock as his eyes rose above her shoulders and he recognized her.
“Where have you been?” he asked sharply. “Ms. Konstantine has had us looking all over for you!”
“I’ve been busy,” Mel said, “but I’m here now. I’ve brought some gentlemen to see Ms. Konstantine.”
“No, way, Ms. Darling. You know she doesn’t like to be disturbed on Mondays.”
“Well, Kevin,” Mel said, settling a hip on his desk and leaning close conspiratorially, “she’ll have to make an exception, won’t she? These gentlemen won’t wait.”
She saw Bart look at his watch, his face a mask of impatience. “It’s now or never, Miss Darling.”
Kevin eyed Bart nervously and visibly shrank back when their eyes met. He glanced nervously at the Saint brothers, but they weren’t paying any attention to him.
“You heard the man, Kevin,” she said, straightening. “Do you really want to be responsible for Ms. Konstantine missing this opportunity? Remember what happened the last time Duncan and Associates signed a new artist Ms. Konstantine never had the chance to get her hands on.
“Oh, that’s right. You weren’t here, then. It was your predecessor who let that one get away.”
The implications of her words were clear, and Kevin took a deep breath. “This one’s on your head, Ms. Darling, he said, pushing the intercom switch.
“You bet!” Mel said cheerfully. She might have felt sorry for the guy, if he had spent less time looking at her breasts just now.
“Ms. Darling to see you, Ms. Konstantine,” Kevin announced.
They didn’t hear the boss’ response, but they could see Kevin wore an ear bud when he got up to open the inner office door.
Mel went in first, wondering if this was to be her last encounter with the woman who had been making her life miserable for the past six months.
“You seem to have forgotten, Ms. Darling, that I don’t take meetings on Monday,” she said, her eyes narrowed menacingly.
“Not at all, Ms. Konstantine, but these gentlemen need to see you.”
Ms. Konstantine seemed to notice Bart and the brothers for the first time, but she seemed unimpressed.
“That would be my fault, Ms. Konstantine,” Bart said, stepping forward to hand Ms. Konstantine his card. “I told the boys that this meeting wasn’t really necessary, since we already have an appointment with Timothy Duncan this afternoon, but Ms. Darling was so good about showing us around last evening and providing breakfast for us this morning, they insisted we give her agency a chance, first. If you’d rather we didn’t, then…”
“No, no,” Ms. Konstantine said, finally standing and coming from behind her power desk. “That’s quite all right, Mr…?”
“This is Mr. Bartholomew Saint, Ms. Konstantine,” Mel said. “He represents his nephews, The Four Saints. That’s Matt, Luke, Mark, and John.”
Ms. Konstantine shook hands with Bart and nodded to the others.
“And just what kind of music do you play?” she asked, leaning back on her desk.
“They have a CD, Ms. Konstantine,” Mel said.
“Of course they do,” Ms. Konstantine muttered. She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but she definitely was not happy as she took the offered disk from Bart. She wasn’t foolish, though. If she thought Tim Duncan was interested in this band, she couldn’t not listen to what they had.
Bucking Bearback (BBW Shifter Cowboy Western Romance) (Bear Ranchers Book 5) Page 44