The Little Bear Maid: A BBW Bear Shifter Billionaire Paranormal Romance Novella (Seattle's Billionaire Bears Book 4)

by Sable Sylvan

  “How soon do they expect you back?” asked Aiden.

  “Uh...that’s the thing, I’m actually over an hour late,” said Carmen.

  “Then what are we doing? You gotta head back, trust me, I won’t complain to your boss, especially given I was the one that wasted your time,” said Aiden. “Come on! Shoo!” He walked Carmen out to the door and hit the elevator button for her. He waited with her for the elevator and waved as she entered the double doors. When they closed, he headed back to his apartment...he had some very important calls to make.

  ***

  “... and so that’s what happened,” said Carmen, as she recounted the story to her boss, who was tapping her pen against her forehead as she sighed and listened to the story.

  “You sure you got everything? No fairy godmothers or princes or dragons?” asked the woman, who was dressed head to toe in white collar clothes that looked out of place in the large office, which was filled with girls just like Carmen, girls wearing black outfits consisting of black pants, a black top like a nurse’s but with white details on the collar and the cuffs, and a white apron, the only writing the faint silver logo of the company. The woman had the same logo on her lapel, but as a silver pin. The logo was also present on the nameplate on her desk, made of black wood and a silver plate, engraved with the name Polly Jackson, the logo etched to the right of her name.

  “That’s right, that’s all that happened, but that’s why I was late for check in,” said Carmen.

  “You’re supposed to call if you get this far behind,” said Polly. “But the scheduling system is definitely off. It shouldn’t’ve had you logged for so many houses today. You’ll get paid overtime, but next time, you should look at the schedule and if it looks like there’s something wrong with it, speak up.”

  “I will,” said Carmen. “I’m sorry, it’s just that—”

  “That’s the other thing,” said Polly. She looked over the schedule and looked at the name of the owner of the condo. A woman’s name was there, a plain generic name, and she remembered who that client was. That man. That man. “Don’t talk so much. You know we have two rules.”

  “Yes, I know,” said Carmen.

  “So what are they?” asked Polly.

  Carmen sighed. Polly was her aunt and she could be really frikkin’ confusing. One minute, she said talk, the other, shut up. “Maids are to follow two rules with clients. First, the customer’s always right, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. Secondly...don’t make chit-chat with anyone,” said Carmen. “Even if they initiate. We’re a professional cleaning service and the maids must act properly. Stay out of the way, get the job done, be fast, and move on. We’re not paid to make friends.”

  “Exactly,” said Polly. “And this...man, you met. Carmen. Trust me. You want nothing to do with him. So, as your boss, but also, as your aunt...I’m going to outright forbid you from talking to him.”

  “But won’t it be rude if I just don’t talk to him?” said Carmen.

  Polly rubbed her temples. Her niece could be so frikkin’ difficult. “Okay. Fine. Here. You can say one thing to him and one thing only. Repeat after me... ‘That’s nice. I need to finish cleaning. If you have any complaints about my work, please call my boss’.” Polly reached to the business card holder on her desk and handed a stack of at least a dozen cards to Carmen. “And then, hand him one of these. If he has a problem with your work, he can call me. Just say that once, and after that, don’t say a frikkin’ word to this guy. Just get in, clean, and leave. The last thing I want is for my service to get a reputation.”

  A reputation? Carmen had no frikkin’ idea what Polly was talking about, but it didn’t seem like the right time to ask. After all, wasn’t today’s lesson ‘don’t frikkin’ talk so much’? Carmen repeated the line her aunt had said. “If you have any complaints about my work...please call my boss. Got it.” Carmen put the cards into her apron.

  “Carmen...I’m serious about this,” said Polly. “You do good work. You’re a loose cannon, but you get results. I want to see you do well, in whatever you do, and you’re majoring in business...so you need to learn when to keep your frikkin’ mouth shut. Trust me. I’ve learned to do the same.” Polly looked at the picture on her desk. It was her, at Carmen’s age...she was just as petite as Carmen, but curvy back then, with a smoother face and a wide smile that Carmen rarely saw on her aunt’s face nowadays.

  “I know,” said Carmen. “You started this business out of your apartment when you were my age. You worked your ass off, put in the time and the elbow grease, and now...”

  “And now, I’m more than just a princess...I’m an empress,” said Polly, standing up and walking over to the large window overlooking the floor, where girls were clocking in, clocking out, grabbing supply buckets, tossing out old materials in the proper bins, and getting into company issued cars like the one Carmen had parked before she was called up to her aunt’s office. The company was a well-oiled machine and every gear in the machine had its purpose. Although it had a hokey name, that name was memorable, and that meant people remembered it when they needed a maid service that was both “quick” and “fast” and specialized in “cleaners” rather than sending a sexy co-ed in a French maid costume to bend over and flash her parts at a horny old goat shifter. The bins? They allowed the company to recycle materials to get back deposits, and it meant they could send off the non-recyclable waste at a cheaper rate, because of a deal Polly had struck with the municipal waste management department. The uniforms? The colored hats the maids wore? They actually were based on what shift they were a member of, so that anyone who got back late was spotted immediately. There was a large office section closed off and soundproofed from the main floor, filled with people with headsets on. This was the customer service and sales team, that ensured that the business was always satisfying customers and always growing.

  Polly sighed and turned back to Carmen. “And Carmen...do you want to be a prissy princess playing dress up...or do you want an empire?” asked Polly. “The world of glittering dresses and designer shoes...it’s not for us. But this world? This is the world we were born into, and this is the world we can conquer and lead. This is your future. You know that.” Polly put a hand on Carmen’s shoulder. Carmen looked at her aunt’s hands. They were wrinkled and callused from years of working with harsh chemicals, back before the maids regularly wore gloves, but on those fingers were jewels on rings that Polly had purchased for herself. She hadn’t needed a man to buy her baubles. She’d bought herself the world, and sold it back, ten times over.

  “I understand,” said Carmen. “I promise.”

  ***

  “...and so that’s what happened,” said Aiden, to the men gathered at his condo. On the sofa were two of the most powerful men in Seattle, his brothers, Jasper and Charles Dixon, who had recently found their mates. In arm chairs, his cousins, Cedar and Aspen Asher, who may as well have been Aiden’s brothers given how far their families went back. They were part of a joint super clan, the Asher-Dixon Clan, known as one of the major lumber families in the Pacific Northwest, if not the world. “And now, I have no frikkin’ clue how to handle this.”

  “Flash her your equipment, that should do the trick,” joked Jasper.

  “That won’t work, you know,” said Charles, running a hand through his naturally dark navy locks. “You’ve got to romance her. Chicks dig that.”

  “Women love it,” corrected Cedar. “And what you’ve got to do is treat her...like a real woman. Listen. She’s not exactly...”

  “From our world?” said Aspen tactfully. “Exactly. She’s a human, and she’s a working class woman at that. She’s not going to be won over the same way that, say, some uptown cat shifter looking to be a trophy wife would be won.”

  “So take it slow,” said Jasper. “Take her down to the cabins.”

  “I don’t exactly think that’s going to happen,” said Aiden. “I only see her once a week, for an hour. Scratch that. I’ve only seen her this one time, a
nd that was just an accident. I just happened to come home an hour earlier than usual, and she was working an hour later than usual. I had my secretary schedule the service so I wouldn’t run into anyone, but...”

  “But then fate decided it was your turn to get hitched,” said Jasper.

  “Hitched?” said Charles. “Hey, nobody’s talking about marriage here.”

  “The crazy thing...I just might be,” said Aiden. “I’ve never met a woman who made me feel this way before. Heck, I’m talking about her with you lot, aren’t I?”

  “Yeah, that means it must be serious,” said Jasper. “So what’re you gonna do?”

  “Obviously, I’m gonna start coming home earlier, and hope she’s still assigned to this condo,” said Aiden. “But I’m thinking...”

  “Don’t tell us, just, do it,” said Jasper. “You gotta trust yourself...and more importantly? Trust your bear.” Jasper put his fist to his chest and beat it.

  The other men did the same thing and all agreed. “Yeah, trust your bear,” said Cedar. “I know I did...and it’s the smartest damn thing I ever did do.”

  Chapter Two

  The next week, Carmen went over her work orders thoroughly before heading out on the job. There had been an issue with the algorithm for the company’s proprietary scheduling software, and the gals in the tech department worked on sorting it out. Until then, Carmen was back on her regular Friday schedule...but of course, that still included Aiden’s condo.

  Carmen knew her aunt Polly was right. Polly hadn’t gotten to the top of her game by messing around, and she was known as one of the best in the business for a reason: because she didn’t mess around. The words that Polly had instilled in her the week before were on her mind, and she had those cards in her apron. Of course, Aiden seemed like a great guy. It wasn’t because he had a nice condo, or because he was the most handsome man she’d ever met in her life. No. It was because he was a genuinely nice guy. True to his word, he hadn’t called the company to complain about her service once he sent her off, but, as nice as he was...he could never be her friend.

  They just weren’t from the same worlds. Her aunt was right. She had to just keep her mind on the grind, and work hard. As much as she complained about her job, it was the best damn job she’d ever had, and this was all money that was going into her bank account, no funny business, no parties, no clubbing, no fun. If she wanted fun, she could stream a video online as she fell asleep. These were important sacrifices she was making. Yeah, she wasn’t like a lot of other girls her age who could afford to mess around and party it up and go to a nice college, but she had something they didn’t. She had drive, and she had...a dream.

  So why was it so frikkin’ hard for her to really take her aunt’s advice to heart? Why did she keep having to repeat the mantra she’d given her? If you have any complaints about my work...please call my boss. If you have any complaints about my work...please call my boss. Those were the words that she was repeating over and over in her head, to the point she accidentally found herself repeating it when she had her headphones in and was scrubbing a floor at her first house of the day on Friday, but by the time the sun had started setting that day, it wasn’t getting any easier to say. It still put her tongue in knots, and worse...it had her heart and stomach both doing flip flops. It was like her body was fighting her on this.

  By the time Carmen got to the elevator of the stately condo, it hadn’t gotten any easier. She was repeating the words in her head. If you have any complaints about my work...please call my boss. If you have any complaints about my work, please call my boss. Ifyouhaveanycomplaintsaboutmyworkpleasecallmyboss. Ifcomplaintsanyyouhavemybosscallmyworkplease. Ugh, that wasn’t right! It was all getting jumbled up in her head as her head raced and put the words in the wrong order. The elevator arrived and she got in, taking a second to hit the button, ‘P’ for ‘Penthouse’, before she shook her head, and took some deep breaths to calm down...

  ...but by the time she was on the top floor, not a darn thing had changed. She was still feeling flustered. She went to the door and knocked, after the kerfuffle that happened last time. She hoped to high heaven that nobody would open the door...

  ...and of course, the woman who was too smart to make a wish because she knew wishes didn’t come true...didn’t get her wish.

  The door opened. “Hey, Carmen, come on in,” said the tall handsome man who had surprised her and worse, distracted her, last week. Aiden. This time, he was in a casual black V-neck shirt and some plain dark jeans.

  Carmen smiled. She had to smile for the job, but inside, her heart was beating fast. Technically, this was his place, so why shouldn’t he be there? It was a free country, after all, and most clients did stick around, if not to ensure that the help didn’t dip their hands in a jewelry box. “Hello, Mr. Dixon,” said Carmen, walking in and going to the kitchen. She hoped he’d read the vibes she was sending out with just her head. Go away! Shoo! You aren’t needed here! Wish number two was not granted, however, as Aiden followed her into the kitchen, where Carmen was getting ready to clean.

  “So...you have a busy day?” asked the man, leaning against the fridge.

  “No,” said Carmen. The answer was ‘yes’, but ‘no’ was the answer that went to her head first. She got out her sponges and spray bottles. Hopefully, Aiden would frikkin’ move before she had to spray the fridge down. A fridge with nothing on it, not even a magnet or a take-out menu, was truly a sign he was a bachelor.

  “I find that hard to believe,” said Aiden. “You look exhausted, no offense...do you want some water? Or to sit on the couch? Trust me, it’s a nice couch.”

  Carmen resisted saying, I frikkin’ know, I’m the one who has to use specialty leather cleaning products on it! Instead, she used the line that she’d been told to use, after rehearsing it in her head a few times to make sure she had it down pat. “If you have any complaints about my work...please call my boss,” said Carmen.

  “What? Earth to Carmen, did you hear me? I said you should lay back, take a break, kick it,” said Aiden. “Come on. Nobody’ll know.”

  Carmen ignored him and started wiping down the counters, which only had a few crumbs and stains accumulated on them from a week’s wear. It was obvious Aiden didn’t spend too much time here, especially given the fridge just had containers of takeout. Ugh. There she went again, writing these stories in her head. It was what she did to distract herself when cleaning, imagining life in the apartments, but...with Aiden, it was different. It was dangerous. She went to the sink and rinsed the sponge and went back to the counter for cleaning round too.

  Aiden walked over and put his arms on the wet counter. “Carmen. Come on. Is there something wrong?” he asked with genuine concern.

  “If...you have...any complaints...about my work...please, just, call my boss,” said Carmen, getting a card from her apron and passing it to Aiden.

  Aiden moved and read the card. Polly Jackson, it read. CEO, Quick-n-Fast Cleaners. There was a number and email below it. Aiden looked at Carmen. “Really?” he asked. He tore the card up into a bunch of pieces, and of course, before he could clean the scraps of paper up, Carmen was on it, brushing them into her hand to throw away in the trash.

  Carmen looked at Aiden and frowned, before pulling out another card and passing it to him.

  Two could play at this game. Aiden took the card, tore it up over the bin.

  Carmen frowned, again. She gave Aiden yet another card...

  ...and of course, Aiden frikkin’ went over to the sink, turned it on, tore the card up into a million pieces, and turned on the switch to run the food disposal unit.

  Carmen looked around. There was a pencil container filled with pens and she spotted a permanent marker. She wanted to just take it, and use it, and write her aunt’s name and number in big letters and numbers, all the way across his fridge, no, his walls, no, his shirts, one letter on each shirt. Maybe then he’d get the frikkin’ message.

  “Carmen, what’s going on?” ask
ed Aiden.

  “I can’t talk to you, okay?” said Carmen. “I can lose my job, Aiden. And I can’t lose this job. So just. Don’t make it harder for me than you have to, please. Just...if...you have any complaints, about my work...please...call my boss.” Carmen gave Aiden the last card, and watched.

  Aiden fingered the thin silver-bordered card in his hands. “Fine,” said Aiden. He put his hands up and then lowered them, into his pockets, to pull out his wallet and phone. Aiden opened his phone. For a split second, Carmen’s heart stopped. He better not frikkin’ call that number and get her fired.

  Aiden did open the phone app and entered the number...but he didn’t hit call, even though he wanted to, to give this boss a piece of his mind. He instead hit Save New Contact and entered Polly Jackson as the contact. He showed it to Carmen.

  “Okay. I have the number,” said Aiden. He put the phone away. “I won’t call it, but, I have it, for...what’d you call them, complaints? I have the number. And watch.”

  Aiden opened his wallet, and he put the card in, inside one of the designer logo embossed slots.

  “I’ve got the card, in case, somehow, I lose my phone,” said Aiden. “I won’t rip it up this time. But Carmen...just...if you can’t talk to me, maybe...maybe you can just listen. I don’t think that your boss could possibly have a rule against you listening to me. After all, what was the first rule? Oh yeah. Customer’s always right. Frankly, I think that should trump that second rule too, but, in the case that it doesn’t, I won’t push my luck...because I feel lucky just being able to talk to you.”