Dragon's Curvy Concierge

by Mychal Daniels

  The nerve of them!

  Determined to get sleep and deal with their wretchedness in the morning, she sunk in the bed that she was acutely aware was theirs and not hers to try to sleep. A few tosses and turns and she lay there staring up and into the darkness. After that call, this wasn’t a comfortable place to be anymore.

  Drifting off in the first stages of sleep, she thought she dreamed of the phone ringing again, until it refused to stop. Oh, they wanted to come back at her then? Bring it on bitches. Bronwyn wouldn’t back down.

  Grabbing the phone without looking at the number and answering, she barked, “What?”

  4

  Bronwyn

  “Hello, Ms. Bronwyn Scott?”

  In the dark, excessive blinking did nothing to help her discern the liquid-smooth Baritone voice. It floated through the phone, enticing her to sit up and pay attention. Her landlord, Jonah, never sounded this interesting. Come to think of it, her man-crush, Scott, couldn’t even hold a candle to this voice. It was hypnotic and on the fringe of dangerous with how she might react to its decadence. Sitting up in hopes of figuring out who the voice belonged to, she acknowledged his question.

  “Yes, this is she. May I ask who’s calling?”

  Good, at least she’d remembered to use her business tone to portray the professionalism she prided herself on, even if it was almost midnight.

  Midnight—this man was calling her at midnight. Who did that?

  Curiosity snatched her to full wakefulness. She waited with bated breath for the voice to answer. The anticipation of what he’d say next was like a dark seduction.

  “My apologies for calling at this hour but I find myself in need of meeting with you.”

  “At midnight?”

  Deep, decadent laughter filled her ear.

  “Ah yes, I forget that most of the world doesn’t work around the clock. Again, my apologies. I wanted to make certain I contacted you as soon as I had a free moment. As I said, I’d like to meet with you as soon as possible. Are you able to come to my home say at,” the voice of confident seduction paused, “at nine or ten this morning?”

  She had to give it to him; he had nerve.

  “Let me get this straight, you call me at midnight, without giving your name or who you are to ask me to come to your house at nine? Sir, you have yet to introduce yourself or give a good reason for why you think it’s all right for you to call me at any time of night.”

  One thing Bronwyn had learned with these guys was to establish and keep boundaries quickly. This one’s voice might be sex on audio, but he had to be trained quickly. That is if she decided to work with him.

  “Yes.” The answer was given without a hint of acknowledgment of how weird this encounter was. “I thought I explained why I called at this particular time. I’m in need of meeting with you and didn’t want to wait to miss the opportunity to meet you first thing, during regular working hours, of course.”

  “Um-hmm, still not a solid reason for a midnight call. It’s not like you’re bleeding, and if you were, I’m the wrong person to call.” Now she was slipping into her not so professional tone. Deciding to backtrack and regroup, she took a pause. This man was trying her, but she wouldn’t go off twice in one night. Putting a smile in her voice, she said, “Look, sir, I’ve had a trying day. It’s late, and I already have appointments scheduled for that time.”

  “I see. When would you be able to meet with me then?” His tone wreaked of disbelief, only serving to fuel Bronwyn’s intent to make the smug stranger wait.

  “I could meet with you day after tomorrow at… hold for a second. Let me check my schedule.” Bronwyn did what she said, checking the schedule to see that she was booked tight with a client’s poker night preparations. Deciding to toss out the absurd time she was available, she said, “Scratch that. I can’t meet with you until Friday at one in the afternoon.”

  “But, today is only Tuesday.”

  “I know.”

  “And I have an emergency that requires your expertise.”

  “I’ve not agreed to meet with you let alone work with you yet—sir. Come to think of it, you still haven’t given me a name, who you are, how you came to have my number—I work on referral only—or why I need to drop everything for you?”

  “Haha—I do like your spunk. As you wish. My name is MacMillan Kelnar, and I received your information from Daniel Thiegs.”

  Confusion blotted out her usual grilling. Who was Daniel Thiegs?

  “Excuse me, but I don’t know a Daniel Thiegs. I only take meetings from referrals of clients.”

  “That is understandable, but he said you would be perfect for my needs.”

  “And again, I don’t know the guy.”

  “He may have told you to call him Danny. You met him in the parking lot of the home improvement center.”

  Then it made sense. “Oh, the dude with the tiny house in his friend’s backyard. Yeah, him. Funny, he finished breaking my van’s back doors.”

  “Oh, that’s unfortunate. If you meet with me at ten—see how accommodating I am—I’ll make certain to have your van repaired or better.”

  “Bribes at midnight might not translate into daytime reality. I learned that a long time ago.”

  Another deep, throaty laugh on the other end had her interest in meeting the guy mounting.

  “I give my word that my offers come with no remorse or renege. You meet with me at ten, and I’ll take care of your van—promise.”

  What could she say to that? It was like the universe had presented a solution to solve one of her major problems. Looking for the crooked angles to this deal, she mused before jumping on it.

  “Are you still there?” The voice captured her thoughts.

  “Yeah, I’m taking my time to think of the various ways you could screw me before accepting.”

  “I assure you the ways are too numerous to count, but as for my promise for your van, show up and see that my word is true.”

  Did he just say what she thought he did? Hellfire on a rocket, that was hot! Not that she could let on that his rakish behavior was turning her on. Clearing her throat and conjuring up authority reserved for her more trying clients, Bronwyn’s reply came hard and fast.

  “Mr. Kelnar, maybe you’re used to getting what you want when you want it, but I’m not going to fall in line with those expectations. As the best concierge around, I get things done professionally. As my clients would tell you if you’d come through those channels, you’d also know that I don’t mess around, I get down when it comes to my business. That means there’s mutual respect, like honoring the time that I appropriate for sleeping.” Okay, maybe the snappiness was a bit much.

  “Bronwyn,” His pause impregnated the digital space between as he spoke her name the way he did. The resonance of his voice’s quality played hide and seek with her curiosity. She wanted to curse for wanting to hear what came after. He didn’t disappoint. “I respect you more than you know. That respect is what has generated this call from me and not one of my business staff. As for messing around and getting down, I’d love to do that with you anytime—any place. I desire the pleasure of meeting with you at ten, yes, I think that should be enough time for you to get your rest, so deeply that I’m prepared to send a car to transport you here. I will honor my word regarding your van. If you agree to meet with me, I’ll also triple your fee for your services for a full day—even if it doesn’t translate into mutual benefit.” The next pause was masterfully employed. Nothing came up and out as she worked through his words, digesting their density. “Good, so I’ll see you at ten this morning. I’ll send a driver over at fifteen past nine to pick you up. Please be downstairs and ready to go when he arrives. I wouldn’t want to keep you longer than necessary in retaliation for your disregard of my time either.”

  The nerve of this guy!

  “Yes, nine-fifteen, downstairs,” she heard her lying lips saying over her objections.

  The soft click of disconnection on the other en
d signaled her cross over into another realm. She knew it without a shadow of a doubt. With the conclusion of this call, Bronwyn had moved from dealing with the typical man-child to fencing with a powerful man.

  Sleep came but at an agonizing price. Variations of that call looped and played through her dreams, each time Bronwyn coming up with the short end of the negotiations. She had to find a way to win and best this mystery man. Finally, fitful sleep came only to leave early.

  Groggy, tired, and even more curious, Bronwyn stumbled out of bed a little after six in the morning. After the most miserable shower she’d taken in a while to loosen sore, tight muscles, she was on her phone doing Google searches to find out more about this MacMillan Kelnar.

  After twenty minutes, her guess about him was right. He was filthy rich and powerful, working behind the scenes to help some of the hottest companies grow and expand. Funny thing was she couldn’t find anything about him as a person, just his business dealings. Oh, and based on how long he’d been in the game, the dude wasn’t a kid, more like in his late thirties, if her guess was correct. That couldn’t be good. He wasn’t old by any means, but he wasn’t as young as her usual clients either.

  One thing she’d learned was that the older the guys got, the more she became an object they thought they could use as a chess piece. No thank you. She’d go to the meeting, get her ride fixed, charge him out of the wazoo and shake the dust on her way out of there.

  The dream came as it always did, without warning. There she was in the clouds high above the cares of this world, riding her Dragon. Cold air wicked away the weight of the world as her Dragon sliced through the air at supersonic speed. Strapped to him in a custom carrier, she held on as he did loops, spirals, and other heart-pumping aerial acrobats. Laying her head on the rough hide of the base of his neck, she patted and sighed as she seemed to connect with him beyond vocal communication. Strength transferred from the beast to her, giving her the energy she needed to go back to the drudgery of her real world.

  This was her favorite dream, one she’d been having variations of since she was a small child. Over the years she’d come to love the Dragon. He always seemed to come when she’d needed him the most. Now was one of those times. Yes, she had to admit as an adult, she was in love with her Dragon. He understood her like none other.

  Then it was time. She could fill the edge of wakefulness pull and tug to reclaim her back to the monotony that was Bronwyn's hustling life. Jumping up in disorientation from the nap she’d dozed off into, Bronwyn looked around until she found her phone on the floor where it had fallen from her hands. She’d been out for almost an hour. She still had enough time to get ready for her meeting with this mysterious Mr. Kelnar.

  Cold water splashed to remove the puffiness from her eyes, her business suit—tight as it might be— on, and her client meeting portfolio located, Bronwyn gathered her thoughts to plan her attack of dealing with this man. She determined to have three plans in case he was more cunning than usual.

  Settled with a few game plan maneuvers that put her back into the driver’s seat, Bronwyn moved around some errands she could do later to make time for dealing with Mr. Kelnar today. After him, she’d work on where she was going to live. Her gut rumbled with anticipation of excitement. Shaking off thoughts of Mr. Kelnar and his audacity, she relegated the giddy uplift to her pursuit of a new place to live. Yes, she’d charge this guy enough to have a down payment for a new apartment.

  Things were looking up. The solution to her situation had presented itself, and she’d taken it.

  “Good job, Bronwyn,” she congratulated herself as she left the condo to catch a ride to her next steps in her plan.

  5

  MacMillan “Mac” Kelnar

  Nine-thirty-seven.

  Time dragged along, taunting and testing him with each agonizing second. She would be here soon, but not soon enough. Yesterday seemed so far away. The moment he’d sensed her presence in the home improvement center parking lot, every part of him snapped to attention sending signals of confirmation that she was nearby.

  The closer time came for her to arrive today, his Dragon pressed harder to the surface. It had been a long time of waiting and patient existence, but finally, she was here. He found the sensation of a smile that played with the corners of his mouth interesting. It had been a long time since his spirits were this high. The notion of a smile, unmediated and appearing without conjure, was another reason for him to delight in his newfound treasure.

  When the car pulled up to the front entrance, instead of allowing his driver to show her inside, he went to greet his destiny. Willing himself to slow down enough for her to get out of the car, Mac recaptured his ability to employ self-control. It was his Dragon. His Dragon had been the driving force behind that call at midnight. Try as he might to contain himself and what he was sure would be counted as a strike against him in her mind, Mac hadn’t been completely able to keep his intense interest in the brown beauty secret.

  If she knew how much of an advantage she had over him, he was certain she could take him to the cleaners, and he’d be the happy fool willing to drive the getaway car. Yeah, she was everything he’d imagined she would be over the years of wondering and waiting for her arrival. Still, having her wasn’t a sure bet. She had a say-so in this as well. He had to get control over his primal beast side, or she’d be scared away before they had a chance to interact. Appeal to his Dragon wisdom won. With determination born of years of self-control and sacrifice, he made himself come back to his logic and senses. Mac walked back to his first-floor office to regroup and get back into his skin.

  Seated behind his desk and spinning one of those stress reducer fidgety things his assistant had given him as a gag gift, Mac sat and waited in silence. Back here, he couldn’t hear what happened in the front of the house. Designed with sound proofing throughout, the home absorbed sounds allowing him to go about his day uninterrupted. It worked too well at the moment. He pushed into his Dragon senses to transverse space and time. It was here he kept up with the action happening out front.

  When her feet touched the flooring of the foyer, his being clicked into a new level of excitement. His fiery nature buzzed and crackled just under the surface. He’d heard tales of how it could be with the first encounter, but nothing could have prepared him for this—and he hadn’t met her in person yet!

  “Mac!” he heard Danny call, as his driver made his way to the back of the house where his office was located.

  Mac willed himself to remain seated behind the desk. New and interesting things were happening within, things he couldn’t quite explain. He needed a moment to reacquaint himself with his usual command of patient control.

  “Yes, I’m in the office,” his reply sounded as normal as he dared, given the fact that his Dragon-chosen mate stood within his home and Lair.

  When the young man entered his office, Mac could tell Danny was just as excited. He hadn’t shared his assessment of Bronwyn Scott yesterday, but the young werewolf had the gift of discernment and had picked up on his reaction to her. This became evident when Danny gave him her card and politely suggested he give her a call. This was Danny’s way. He’d been loyal to Mac since finding his way to Atlanta five years ago. The young man was an alpha without a desire to start a pact or take a mate just yet.

  Needing the loyalty and secrecy that a werewolf excelled at, Mac had hired him as his driver and catch-all companion. Up until meeting Danny, Mac had trusted no one outside of his family with access to his inner sanctum. He even did his own cooking and cleaning, much to the dismay of Danny who thought he should do it. Reminding Danny that his cooking sucked and his cleaning was worse than if a dog tried to do it, Mac had successfully convinced the young man that he was better at those things than anyone else.

  That would be where he started with Bronwyn. He’d appeal to her ability to help him get his “house in order.” Not one to outright lie about anything, Mac determined to woo her with the cunning smoothness requisit
e of any Dragon worthy to be called one.

  Hopeful exuberance shone brightly as Danny continued to look at him from the doorway.

  “Shall I show her back here? I didn’t know where you wanted to meet her, so I left her standing at the door.” Then, as if rethinking those actions, Danny scratched his head. “Sorry boss, I should have taken her to the living area.”

  The brotherly sense of affirmation kicked in. Mac found that he liked that role in Danny’s life.

  “No, you’re fine. I’ll go and meet her. That way I can give her a tour of the house before settling down to… business.”

  At hearing how Mac said business, Danny winked and turned to leave, whistling a little tune. Before he got out of earshot, Mac reminded him, “Bring the van around to the front before you leave. I’ll present it to her when our meeting has concluded.”

  “Will do. Let me know how she likes it, will you?”

  “Of course. You did a great job getting it equipped and ready as fast as you did. She’s going to love it. I would, and I don’t have a need for a work van.”

  “Thanks, boss. I’ll leave you two alone. Text me if you need me to come back over later.”

  It didn’t go without Mac’s notice how excited Danny was for him. That wolf was clever, loyal, and a true friend—no scratch that—brother.

  The time had come. He stood, smoothing the t-shirt and casual jeans he’d decided to wear. Opting to come off as non-threatening and jovial, Mac had dressed like he would during the weekend. He’d noticed how she seemed to deal with Danny with ease yesterday. He could imagine how much of a shutdown he would have received if he’d tried to meet her dressed as he was in one of his power business suits and accessories.

  From his tussled hair that was meant to be carefree to his t-shirt, jeans, and smart watch in place of his more formal timepieces, Mac felt ready to meet his destiny. One last, long, settling breath and he was out the door, headed to the front of the house.