MUNDO (BBW Bear Shifter MC Romance) (MC Bear Mates Book 2)

by Becca Fanning

  “You’d be stupid to do that now,” Remy had told him. “They already know. They will follow you with cameras anyway. Run for mayor—if you’re elected maybe you can do some good.”

  So, he’d run for mayor and gotten elected, but in the last week he’d begun to doubt the voters’ intent. Had they voted for his policies of expanded services and adjusted tax rates? Or had they voted for him so they could claim to be the first city in the world to elect a shaper shifter to public office?

  It didn’t matter now. He was in and he was determined to do some good in his four years at city hall, for the people and for his fellow shape shifters.

  His first act on that latter front would be starting the process of creating local bylaws concerning the privacy of shifters. One could not legally force a person to reveal their sexual identity or religion in a job interview or other similar situation, and he wanted those same rights for shifters, among others.

  Remy laid a hand calmly on his shoulder, and he realized he’d been staring off into space. “She wanted your money, a billionaire’s lifestyle. You were too down to earth for her, not enough of a playboy. Are you surprised she jumped at the chance to make some money off your name?”

  “No. It still hurt though. And it may have hurt Jules too.”

  “I will add Stephanie to the list of people we may want to speak to, but it means you may end up speaking to her again.”

  The thought distressed him, but he nodded. “Just be ready for afterward,” he said. “I may need to smash a few chairs.”

  “The warehouse needs redecorating anyway,” Remy said, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t you have work to do, Mr. Mayor?”

  “Paperwork,” he said. “Most of my life for the next four years will be paperwork.”

  “Better you than me,” Remy said, chuckling.

  Chapter 4

  Gia was searching for something healthier than the leftover pizza that was calling her name from the back of the fridge when someone knocked on her door. It had to be her father since he’d gotten past the security door at the entrance, and he was the only person she’d given a spare key to. She appreciated that he still knocked. It had been a while since she’d had a steady boyfriend, but one never knew who one might find over the course of a day.

  She opened the door to see her guess had been right. Her father stood in the hallway with a bottle of champagne and a bag of takeout. She groaned. “I just had pizza last night.”

  “You don’t need to watch your figure,” he said. “But don’t worry. I got you one of those chicken wrap things you like so much.”

  She stepped aside and let him in. “Thanks Dad. I was just thinking about supper.”

  “And I was just thinking we should celebrate your first real day at your new job. How did it go?”

  “Boring,” she said, pulling out glasses and plates. “I had to sign a lot of papers and get a pass card, and I got lost twice. City Hall is bigger than I thought it was. But I get my own office.”

  “I knew I should have had you a little office built,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I’m going to lose you, and it’ll all be because they gave you a better piece of real estate.”

  “I had a better neighbor at your office,” she said, thinking of Carol. “I’m across the hall from the HR department and they’re all grumpy.”

  “At least you won’t be late coming back from lunch,” he pointed out.

  “True that.” He unpacked the food—a wrap for her, a sandwich for him, and two pieces of lemon pie in a plastic dish. He opened the champagne with a pop and poured two glasses. He raised his and said, “To my daughter! Here’s to success in your new political career.”

  She clinked her glass against his and drank.

  “Tell me about our new mayor,” he said as he started on his supper.

  “What’s to tell?” That I keep thinking about snuggling him? I don’t think you want to hear that. I don’t think I want to admit that out loud. “You were right, of course. He’s a gentleman. I didn’t see much of him today. Or yesterday.”

  “Strange that the mayor went off to do business without his assistant there to help.”

  “He said his business wasn’t something I could help with. I just assumed he had pack business.”

  “Bears don’t live in packs. The shifters call them clans.”

  “Where did you learn that?” she said.

  He shrugged. “So, we have a gentleman-bear for a mayor. I suppose that’s good news. What does your job entail?”

  She filled him in as much as she could, and they chatted about her replacement at Carosa Holdings and Carol and her mother.

  “Speaking of your mother,” he said, wiping his face on the napkin. “I should return home.”

  “I’m surprised she didn’t come,” Gia said. She hadn’t felt disappointment in her mother’s absence until now.

  “You know your mother. She loves to spend money, but she has very little interest in how it’s made. She’ll be down to visit you soon, I’m sure. Don’t you two have a spa day coming up?”

  “Just passed,” she reminded, absently waving polished fingers in his direction.

  “That’s right. She loves you darling, but she doesn’t understand why you didn’t just marry rich. No, don’t explain it to me, I understand and respect your choice. I’ll leave you the champagne—don’t drink it all tonight. We should do lunch. Monday? No, I’m in New York for two weeks. When I get back.”

  “It’s a date,” she said, smiling. He was used to barreling over people and she was used to his pushy attitude. He did respect her though, so she took it as a sign of affection, at least where she was concerned. “Say hi to Mom for me.”

  “I will. Take care.” He breezed out with surprising grace for a man his age.

  To her credit, she didn’t drink the whole bottle of champagne even though it was a small bottle, but she did have two glasses and a glass of wine, and then curled up with a book open on her lap. She was warm and content and pleased with herself, but she couldn’t focus on the words on the page. Every time she started reading, her mind would drift back to some event over the last two days and to the man who was very quickly dominating her thoughts.

  “He’s my boss,” she muttered. “Maybe if we hit it off I’ll consider it after his regular assistant comes back. I don’t need to be the scandal of City Hall.” With that settled, she gave up on the book and crawled into bed. In the morning she awoke, her body tingling from the intensity of her dreams, and as the dream faded she was able to deny it was Brock Tandell she had been dreaming about.

  She arrived at City Hall that morning feeling tired and started her coffee maker as soon as she reached her office. She was going to need the whole damn pot to make it through the rest of the backlogged emails today. And, like rabbits, the damn things seemed to multiply overnight.

  She went through the list and deleted everything that looked like spam. She then went through the ones that should have gone to HR, media control, budget, and other departments within City Hall but had somehow ended up in the general inbox. With the easiest part of her job done, she tried to decide where to start on the sorting that was left before her. One subject line caught her eye, and she clicked it before going to refill her cup. When she came back she settled in to read.

  Subject: Airport Attack

  Mr. Mayor, your stance on the recent attack upon the Louis Armstrong New Orleans International Airport is sickening, but then given your connection to the beast who tore the building apart we shouldn’t be surprised. Werebears, werewolves, and whatever other foul demon beasts hide in the shadows of this world are the spawn of the devil himself. Every one of you is a monster, a ticking time bomb. The next time one of you loses control or decides to unleash your beast upon unsuspecting humans, we will not be so lucky as to escape injury at your hands.

  There are those of us in this city, and this great nation, who are not so easily tricked into complacency. While you hold court over your media circus, o
rchestrating cover-ups that the gullible believe, we are busy seeking proof of the danger you and your kind pose to society.

  We demand a stronger stance be taken against shape shifters of all kinds. We demand stronger laws in place to protect our families from you demon-possessed monsters. We will not be silenced by empty promises. We will not be fooled by placations. We will have justice at any cost.

  A Concerned Citizen and Member of the Human Order.

  Gia shuddered as she read the letter a second time. There was no denying the hostility in the words—“monster,” “demon,” “ticking time bomb,” “at any cost.” It read more like a political demand than a complaint. She forwarded it to Brock and then knocked on the door between their offices.

  He didn’t answer, but she could hear his voice so she peered in. He was on the phone, but he waved her in and pointed to a chair. She half listened to his side of the conversation as she sipped at her coffee trying to calm down.

  When he hung up and turned his attention to her she said, “Check your emails.”

  She watched his face as he read, watched the clouds forming in those sharp golden eyes. His hand tightened on the mouse. His mouth thinned to a line.

  “This is worse than I thought.”

  “You knew about this? Some warning would have been nice.”

  “About this? No. I’ve never heard of the Human Order, but from this letter I can assume they are some sort of supremacist group that doesn’t like shifters. They likely feed into people’s natural fear of what is different to try to turn them against us. Shit. What I knew was that I had gotten hate mail during the campaign—letters directed at me telling me I’d burn in hell, that I’d damn the whole city, that I was a monster. But they were letters about me, not about shifters in general, and I spoke to the other candidates. They said they all got hate mail during the campaigns as well.”

  “I can’t imagine theirs was as bad,” she scoffed.

  “Probably not, but then being a werebear does seem to invoke the imagination a little more strongly than wanting to get rid of unused community centers. I need to call my clan leader and inform him. He needs to warn the other clans and the wolves as well. This type of rhetoric can and often does escalate to violence, and we need to be ready.”

  “What about us?” Gia said. “Your city is mostly human. What are you going to do to protect them? You talked about me trusting you, but do you trust the humans in your city?”

  “I’m going to continue to educate this city and anyone who will listen on the truth about shifters. And I will be forwarding this email to the police. They need to be aware in case this escalates to domestic terrorism. I can’t possibly trust everyone in this city, Gia, but I do believe that an educated population is less prone to violence.”

  “God, I didn’t think working in City Hall would be quite this… exciting.”

  “Gia, do you trust me?”

  “You can’t trust a man you’ve never met,” Gia said, quoting her father. “I don’t think you can make that decision about one you’ve only just met either.”

  “Tell me, in your gut, do you think I’d hurt you?”

  “No.” She answered on instinct.

  “After I talk to my clan leader and the police, we will likely have to call a press conference before this Human Order makes themselves public. Have you been in front of the cameras before?”

  “Yes. Briefly. Will I have to say much? Answer questions?”

  “You’ll introduce me. The press will be mostly focused on me. A few times they shot questions to Marsha, mostly questions about working with me.”

  “Are you going to lecture me on what to say?”

  “No.”

  That surprised her. Her father had always drilled her on what to say in front of the cameras. “You’re not worried about what I could say?”

  “Perhaps it is because animals live and survive on instincts that mine are louder and clearer than some people find theirs, but I already trust you, Gia. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

  She nodded and retreated to her office to finish the emails.

  Brock stared after Gia for a long moment and then rubbed both large hands over his face. This was not supposed to happen. He wasn’t sure if he was thinking about the disaster that had just landed in his lap or the heat he felt when he watched Gia move. Either way, he knew where his focus needed to be.

  His first call was to the police, and they instructed him to forward the email to a specific address, their web crimes division, and to print a copy. “Politically, I need to stay ahead of this Human Order, whoever they are. How much can I reveal to the public without hindering your investigation into the matter?”

  “Extremists are strange,” the officer said. “If you pay attention to them they feel this adds legitimacy to their cause and they may escalate faster. On the other hand, they hate to be ignored, so if you don’t address this it may cause them to escalate faster. With only one email to go by, it’s hard to tell. I would keep quiet for now, see if they reach out to you again. They aren’t likely to make the leap to violence right away.”

  “Thank you.”

  His next call was to Remy. “I need to release the information about the pills,” he said. “We’ve got a group of extremists calling us names and demanding laws be changed to keep them safe. I have to push some of the ‘blame’ off of Jules and onto the pills. I’m hoping that will steal the fuel from their fire.”

  “Do what you have to do,” Remy said. “I will inform the other clans.”

  “Thank you.”

  He worked on his computer for hours after that, writing and rewriting what he planned to say in front of the cameras and microphones. He tried to anticipate their questions, to identify and address their concerns and their fears. When that was done, he hit the button on the phone that would page Gia’s phone in the next room.

  “Yes?” Her voice sounded strange through the speaker.

  “Come in here and let’s review for the press conference.”

  She appeared with a full cup of coffee and a tablet. “What do we need to review?”

  He turned his monitor and let her read his speech. She leaned on his desk, focused on the screen, but he was suddenly focused on her. She was too modestly dressed to be flashing him any indecent skin, and he was at the wrong angle to sneak a peek anyway. Still, he found the way she was standing very interesting—more interesting if he could stand behind her.

  No, he wouldn’t let his thoughts go there.

  “There,” she said, pointing to the screen. “Change that sentence. You’re begging here. Requesting, suggesting, that’s fine, but if you start begging you’ll sound whiny and weak.”

  He read it over and then nodded. “You’re right. Trying too hard not to offend.”

  “Some people have chosen to be offended already. You won’t soothe them over with this speech. I hope that’s not what this is about.” She sat back in the chair.

  Now that she wasn’t in a provocative pose, he let out the breath he’d been holding. “No. You’re right. The people who hate shifters won’t change their mind because my friend took the wrong pills. But maybe I can take a little wind out of their sales and slow down their recruiting.”

  “Well then, this looks fine. When do you want the press conference?” She tapped the screen of her tablet, probably to call up a calendar.

  “The sooner the better.”

  She looked at the clock at the top of her screen. “The news is on right now. If we call them at seven when the local news ends, they’ll be able to air it on the late news and again in the morning.”