Breakwater: Rick (BBW Bad Boy Space Bear Shifter Romance) (Star Bears Book 2) (65 page)

“Oh, crap! I told you not to let me fall asleep here last night!”

“Relax, Kitty,” he said, blocking her from rising and holding out the coffee mug. “I called Mel, and she’ll make your excuses for you at work.”

“Oh, geeze! Does the entire family know about last night?”

He had the gall to chuckle. “Only Mel and Meg. Meg’s the one who loaned you a dress for today.” He gestured toward the open closet, where she saw a splash of pale yellow hanging among Bart’s dark suits. “I’m afraid your blouse is ruined, but Meg thinks you’re about her size, so the dress should fit.”

Kitty pulled a pillow over her face with a moan.

“Look, take a shower and get dressed,” he said, setting the coffee on the bedside table. “Have some coffee and some breakfast. Like I said, Mel will cover for you at work, so take your time, figure out what you’re gonna tell your old man.”

Kitty heard Bart walk out, closing the bedroom door softly behind him. She tossed the pillow aside, and scooting up to lean against the headboard, she reached for the coffee. As the caffeine hit her bloodstream, she started making sense of the world again and pulled the sheet up to cover her nakedness.

Okay,
she thought.
I’m here in Bartholomew Saint’s bed. Two of his nephews’ wives—at the very least—know I spent the night in Bart’s bed. When Bart takes me into work—
she glanced at the clock—
three hours late, it’s likely everyone at Konstantine will know I spent the night with him.

Then she thought about her father’s harsh words over the phone yesterday afternoon, and she could only wonder at her sudden lack of trepidation. In fact, she decided, she felt pretty darn good at the moment. She hadn’t slept with Bart in order to convince him to sign the contract, which is what her father had hinted she attempt. Instead, she had made love with Bart
after
conceding that The Four Saints would never sign such a contract. Her father would be furious, but she realized, however belatedly, that she didn’t care. In point of fact, she had money in the bank and a pricey condo she could sell. So who said she needed to worry about what Randall J. Konstantine, Sr., thought of her? Why should she continue to care about pleasing the “old man”—and keep beating her head against the wall trying to do so?

Kitty froze with the coffee mug halfway to her lips, suddenly realizing what she was considering.

Are you out of your cotton-picking mind?
her other half—the sensible half—asked herself.

“Probably,” she said, then sipped her coffee and waited, trying the kernel of an idea on for size.

Then she took a very deep breath and smiled. “In fact, undoubtedly.”

Setting aside her coffee mug, she threw off the sheet and headed for the bathroom, before she could change her mind.

Bart pulled the SUV into the loading zone at the front door of the Konstantine Talent Agency, put it in park, and hopped out to come around and open Kitty’s door.

“You sure you don’t want me to go in with you?” he asked.

Kitty smiled. “No thanks. I’ve got this.”

She released her seatbelt and swung her legs around only to have Bart grasp her waist in his big hands and lift her gently to the ground.

“Thanks,” she said. Slightly breathless, she reached back for her purse.

“Thanks for the ride,” she added. “And thank you for last night.” Her smile warmed. “I’m really glad you trusted me enough to tell me about yourself and your nephews, Bart. It means a lot to me.”

Bart returned her smile, and brushed a loose lock of hair back from her face. She wore it pulled back into a simple pony tail, this morning. It was unusual for her, to say the least, but it seemed to match the style of Meg’s dress, which was a light, full-skirted wrap-around style, made of a light-weight, breezy chiffon. The color was of early daffodils. Meg had left not only the dress for her but also a white slip, panties, and a pair of matching, low, wedge-heeled canvas shoes. The entire outfit couldn’t have been more different than Kitty’s usual work attire, and she found she loved it—both the look and the feel. She and Meg were of a size, and everything fit perfectly.

“You’re welcome, darlin’,” Bart said, leaning in to kiss her lightly on the lips. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”

“How about tonight?” she asked, pleased to see his eyes light with anticipation.

“Works for me.”

“Good.” She turned away, but when she glanced back briefly to see his golden eyes following her closely, she laughed.

Kitty entered the building and ignored the stares from the security personnel as she signed in and headed for her office.

Good morning, Tina,” she greeted her assistant.

“Oh! Good morning, Ms. Konstantine!” Tina said. The young woman was obviously trying hard not to stare at her boss. “Uh, Mr. Konstantine has been trying to reach you all morning.”

“Okay. I’ll call him in a bit. Please ask Ms. Saint to come to my office as soon as possible, if she’s available.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Kitty felt laughter bubble up at her assistant’s expression, but tamped it down. There would be plenty of time, later.

Stepping into her office, she closed the door behind her and went immediately to her desk to turn on her computer. Twenty minutes later, she hit send, sat back in her chair, and took a deep breath.
 

“That’s done, then. No turning back, now.”

She rose and headed for the closet. Rummaging around, she found a couple of empty file boxes, and bringing them out, she began to systematically go through her office, packing personal items into the boxes. She would leave all company files behind, because she didn’t want her father to sic his lawyers on her for stealing company secrets, but some of the files—and all the decorations—were her own personal property. Retrieving the photos of her brother, she smiled.

“Wish me well, Rand,” she whispered, touching a finger to his beloved image, before she closed the frame and placed it gently in a box.

The intercom sounded, and she reached for the switch.

“Yes?”

“Ms. Saint to see you, Ms. Konstantine.”

“Thank you, Tina. Please send her in and hold all my calls.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The door opened immediately, and Mel Saint walked in.

“Sorry it took me so long, Ms. Konstantine,” Mel said, and Kitty could see the younger woman was nervous.

“That’s okay, Mel. Please have a seat.”

Mel took one of the chairs facing Kitty’s desk, opening a steno pad and clicking on her pen.

“You won’t need that,” Kitty said, leaning forward on her desk.’

“Oh.” Mel looked flustered, and Kitty imagined the younger woman was thinking the worst.

“I need your help, Mel,” Kitty said, deciding to get right to the point.

“Of course,” Mel said, still looking uncertain.

“Actually, I need to thank you first—for covering for me this morning,” she added, when Mel looked blank.

“Oh. Well, that’s all right. I was happy to help.”

Kitty smiled warmly. “It wasn’t all right—not on my part—to leave you stranded, and I want you to know I appreciate it.”

Mel relaxed a fraction. “Okay. Then you’re welcome.”

Kitty sat back in her chair, and crossing one leg over the other, she swung her chair back and forth.

“I imagine I also have you to thank for Meg’s assistance this morning.”

Mel looked embarrassed. “Well, I thought you’d like, that is I didn’t think you’d want…I mean…”

“You were pretty sure I wouldn’t want to show up for work in the same clothes I was wearing last evening when I left with Bart Saint.” Kitty grinned. “You were right, of course.”

Mel let out a huff of breath. “Well, I know how…persuasive the Saint men can be.”

Kitty laughed. “Tell me, Mel: When did you find out about what they do?”

Mel seemed to relax completely at that, as she realized where Kitty was headed.

“The first time I saw them, actually.”

“Them?”

Mel nodded. “Yes. I’d followed the band to a dive where I’d learned they liked to hang out. It wasn’t someplace I should have gone into by myself, but I’d heard them play, and knew you’d want to sign them, so I…”

Kitty sat forward suddenly. “What happened? God, please don’t tell me you were hurt.”

“No! I mean, there was this drunk guy who did try to, well, he was pretty obnoxious, but Matt and the others heard the commotion, and they came storming out of the back room and…Well, they took care of him. Took care of me.”

Kitty gasped. “I am so sorry, Mel. God, if anything bad had happened to you, because I was pushing you so hard …”

“It’s okay. Really. And anyway, if you hadn’t…I mean, if I hadn’t decided to follow them into that dive, I’d never have met Matt, so really, it turned out okay.” She smiled brightly. “Better than okay, really.”

Kitty stood and paced to the window. “I pushed all of you too hard, Mel,” she said. “My father was pushing me, and I was dumping all that frustration onto all of you.”

She turned back. “It was wrong of me.”

“Ms. Konstantine…” Mel began.

“Kitty. Please. Call me Kitty.” She took a deep breath. “I have a huge favor to ask of you, and I’d rather ask it of a friend than of a subordinate.”

She paused and took another deep breath. “Besides, I’m not your supervisor anymore.”

“You’re not?” Mel seemed to forget her earlier misgivings as she sat forward, startled.

“No, I’m not. Or at least I won’t be, as soon as HR passes my letter of resignation along to my father.”

“You’re letter of…” Mel gaped at her. “Holy cats…you really quit?”

Kitty found a smile from somewhere. “I thought I might as well. My father made it pretty clear yesterday that if I didn’t get The Four Saints to sign an Opryland contract, I’d be finished here. And after my evening with Bart, I know that was never going to happen.”

“He told you?” Mel asked, tentatively.

Kitty nodded. “Told and showed.”

A thought struck Kitty. “You said ‘they’ came to your rescue. Does that mean all five of them…?”

Mel smiled. “Yes. I don’t remember it real clearly, but there were lots of growls and screams and, well, if you can imagine a bar suddenly filled with five very unhappy bears…”

Kitty laughed and collapsed into the other chair in front of her desk. “God, I really can.”

She shook her head again then glanced at the clock.

“Anyway, before we’re interrupted, as I said, I need to ask you a favor.”

“Okay.”

Kitty was glad to see Mel seemed genuinely willing to listen.

“I’m going to need to find another job, but I don’t think I want to work for anyone else, so I’m thinking about going out on my own.”

“As a talent agent?”

“Yes, but I’ve learned I don’t like the stiff competition of the big boys as much as I like helping new artists. You know: the up-and-coming singer or band who may or may not make it to the big stage, but is really talented and should at least be given the chance to make a living doing what they love.”

Mel smiled. “You mean like The Four Saints.”

“Exactly. I’ve also been thinking about your sister-in-law.”

“Meg?”

“You mentioned the other day that she’s thinking about soloing again, but she doesn’t want to tour Europe or even the entire U.S. Maybe what she needs is small-scale representation—to protect her from the vultures.”

“Like her father, you mean.”

“And mine. Exactly.”

Mel loosened up enough to cross one leg over the other and bounce her foot, a thoughtful expression in her face.”You may have something there,” she said.

“The thing is,” Kitty said, leaning close, “I can’t do it alone. I’ll need help—a partner or partners—to pull this off.”

Mel looked startled. “Me?”

“You, and possibly Bart, though I haven’t discussed this with him, since I’m kind of making this up as I go along this morning.”

“Wow,” Mel said. She met Kitty’s frank gaze, and Kitty interpreted her expression as hopeful. “Where would you want to base this?”

“Well, we’d need to find an office space and some up-front money. I’m going to sell my condo, so that will give us start-up funding, especially if the boys and Meg are willing to sign with us right away, giving us some immediate income.”

Mel started to nod but then shook her head. “I have a better idea—if you’d like to hear it?”

Kitty offered her hand. “I think we’re on the verge of becoming partners, Mel, so of course I want to hear it.”

Mel grinned and shook her hand.

“You’ve been to Bart’s apartment, right? Well, you may not have seen it, but he’s got a big front room—a parlor, I guess it would have been called—that would make a great front office.”

“We’d have to get permitted…”

Mel waved Kitty off. “That shouldn’t be a problem. You wouldn’t have seen it, coming in from the back as you did, but the street Bart and John’s house is on has several first-floor professional offices in a few of the old houses. So far there’s an attorney, a CPA, a piano teacher—that sort of thing.”