Romance: My Bear Boss: BBW Paranormal Shapeshifter Romance (BBW Shifter Romance, Paranormal Shifter Romance)

My Bear Boss

Ashley Hunter

 Copyright 2015 by Ashley Hunter

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced

in any way whatsoever, without written permission

from the author, except in case of brief

quotations embodied in critical reviews

and articles.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any

person, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

First edition, 2015

Chapter 1

Melody sang along with the radio as she drove down the road. The party had run far later than her friend said it was going to, but Melody wasn’t complaining. Good people, good music, good conversation. Good drinks!

Melody wasn’t drunk, far from it. She waited to sober up before driving home, which was part of the reason she’d stayed so late, but man, she’d tipped a few back before she had realized what was happening.

The exhaustion of being on her feet for hours on end made her feet ache while at the same time, relieving her calves and thighs. Talking and shouting over other conversations had her throat feeling raspy. Tomorrow she was going to be hoarse, she just knew it. She should’ve been more tired.

Logically, she knew that the second her head hit the pillow she’d be out, but at the moment, she was still riding the high of a good social engagement. That all evaporated when her car spat and stuttered.

She was able to steer it to the side of the road before it came to a complete stop. A horrible pit in her stomach consumed all of the joy she’d just been feeling.

“Oh come on,” she said, rocking back and forth while pushing on the steering wheel.

Naturally, it did nothing to solve the problem. The entire car was dead. When she tried turning the key, the engine didn’t even try to turn over.

“Really? You have to do this now?”

Grumbling to herself, she looked at the dash for some kind of a warning light. The fact that nothing was on reminded her of the battery. Months ago she’d had this exact thing happen.

Somehow one of the connectors had come free of her battery. With a roll of her eyes, she grabbed her heels from the backseat and opened her door.

A tug at the switch under her dash popped the hood and her heels clacked against the street as she walked to the front of her car.

The air smelled of city nightlife, muggy yet with a stronger scent of smog than normal. It was a crisp, moist night. The street lamps in this area were dim and far apart, which wouldn’t have been a problem if she’d been able to just drive through.

Fortunately, the moon was full and she could see everything she needed to. She couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like trying to do this in total darkness.

Using her cell phone display for light, she opened the hood and propped it up with the stand. Just as she suspected the connector for the battery had come free. The edges were sharp, and without any tools, she was unable to loosen it. Twisting it back and forth, she was able to force it back on, but didn’t know how long it’d hold.

The next day, she’d have to go to the hardware store and pick up a wrench or something to make sure this didn’t happen again.

The sharp hissing of someone in pain startled her from her hardware store errand list. It was quickly followed by pained grunt.

“Hello?” she called toward the alleyway.

If someone was hurt, they may need to be taken to a hospital. This was a bad neighborhood, but she was more worried someone had been a victim of a mugging rather than getting mugged.

A shadowy form stumbled at the far end of the alleyway, the moonlight bright on his back.

“Hello, are you okay?” she called out to him.

The man suddenly threw his head back and cried out. The cry of pain turned into an animal’s roar.

Before her eyes, he grew in height. His torso, arms, and legs all became huge. Hands and feet turned into paws, and even at that distance she could see the moonlight gleam from sharp claws.

“Oh my God,” she said, and then immediately covered her mouth.

The man had turned into a bear! His massive head swung around to look at her, as if now he was aware she existed. Melody screamed and the bear turned to face her. It released a great huff as it dropped to all fours. It charged.

Melody screamed again and ran back to her car, knocking the stand free of the hood and slammed it closed. She got into the car and looked in her purse for the keys but couldn’t find them.

The bear roared as it barreled down the alley toward her. Her knee knocked something that jingled and she realized she’d left the keys in the ignition.

“Come on,” she said as she turned the key. The engine whined but didn’t start.

The bear was almost to her.

“Start!” she shouted and turned the key again.

The engine hiccuped and then sputtered to life. The bear swung a paw at her car. Dropping the shifter into drive, she mashed the gas pedal. The front tires chirped for a moment before the car was off and away.

The bear’s claws scraped through the rear of the car. The fender screeched loudly but fortunately it had missed her tire. Relief at her escape brought on tears and choking breath.

She was safe, but she wished the bear hadn’t seen her face. What if the man recognized her?

She had no way of knowing who it was. Then and there, she swore she’d never go back to that part of town again.

Chapter 2

A week later, Melody woke up in a cold sweat. Panting, she clutched her chest and tried to slow her heartbeat. Another nightmare. It’d been almost nonstop since that night.

Today, however, she was going to push all of that to the side. It was her first day on the new job, and she had to be ready.

In an attempt to get away from the poor section of the city, she took a job in the posh business working as the personal secretary of one of the youngest and richest billionaires in the whole city.

Of course, there were rumors and horror stories about how terrible he was to work for. If she could manage it, though, she’d be paid higher than any job she’d ever had. This was a real career move.

Melody made a point of being meticulous about her hair and make-up, wanting to make the best impression possible. She’d had her car washed and detailed the day before, and her outfit dry-cleaned and pressed.

As far as she was aware, she was as ready as she could be.

How wrong she was.

When she rode the elevator up to the office floor and the doors opened, it took her breath away. She’d never seen such a lavish display before.

The entire floor of the building was his office. A rich brown desk dominated the entry space in a wide half-circle, nestled back against the opposite wall. There were couches and leather chairs for people to wait to meet with Mr. Drysdale. To the side were two oversized double-doors.

One of them opened, and through it stepped the woman who had hired Melody.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” the woman said.

“He would’ve fired you on the spot if you were late your first day.”

“I’m not taking any risks. Thank you again for the opportunity.”

The woman gave her a crooked smile. “We’ll see if you still feel that way after today.”

Before Melody could reply, the elevator dinged. Both Melody and the woman turned to see as the elevator doors opened.

There, with his hands in his pockets, looking like he owned the world was Mr. Richard Drysdale. Melody had never seen a better-looking man. Short sandy brown hair, piercing blue eyes, and a body that looked like it could cut stone. He strode forward, removing his hands from his pockets as he walked.

Melody thought he was coming to shake her hand, so she held out her hand to him and put on her best smile.

“Hello Mr. Drysdale, it is a pleasure to—“

“Is this the new Tiffany?” he asked the woman.

Not only did he cut off Melody mid-sentence, but also he just kept walking without waiting for the woman to reply.

She was quick to follow him back through the double-doors, saying quickly that she was the best option out of the bunch. Melody was left alone, stunned.

“I didn’t know we were hiring homeless people off the street now. How is she supposed to manage my contacts when she can’t even tell which end of a brush to hold? Where’d she go?”

Was she supposed to know she should’ve followed them?

The way he talked about her like she wasn’t there, she’d somehow assumed it was a conversation that excluded her.

Seconds later, the woman popped her head out from the double-doors and frantically waved Melody to follow. Nearly tripping over her shoes, Melody hurried through.

The office itself was huge!

Three of the walls were nothing but windows, the early morning sun streaming in. A projector shined stats and graphs against one wall, a conference table in front of it large enough to hold at least twenty people.

Glass walls to provide a soundproof room sectioned off the whole area. Couches, a small putting course, bookshelves, desks. It had everything she could think of.

Melody walked quickly to stand in front of the desk as Richard sat down. “Tiffany, I expect—“

“My name is Melody.”

Mr. Drysdale’s face dropped from deadpan into an expression of pure disdain.

His eyes flicked to the woman, and she was quick to look sternly to Melody.

“Do not correct Mr. Drysdale. Ever.”

“Or?” he asked.

“Or interrupt him,” she quickly added. “Is that clear?”

Melody looked from one to the other. Was this a sick game they played? No one could be this rude.

“But my name isn’t Tiffany.”

“It is now,” Mr. Drysdale said.

As Melody opened her mouth to argue he said, “Another word. Any word. Make a sound. Clear your throat. Breathe heavy. Go ahead.”

The threat was clear, and Melody pursed her lips to keep any sound from escaping.

“You will not argue with me. If you ever get the feeling that you simply have to speak up, instead, I want you to pack up your desk and fire yourself. You were not hired for your brilliant mind, Tiffany. You’re a pretty face that can answer a phone. You can answer a phone, I take it.”

When she opened her mouth to say that she could, he held up a finger.

“It wasn’t a question.”

Melody squashed what she was going to say and bit her upper lip.

“You will answer the phone. Take messages. Tell people to wait, and anything else I tell you to do. I want to make this clear, without any chance of misunderstanding.”

“I will tell you to do something. I don’t want to be told how you can’t. I don’t want to hear how difficult it is to do. You will either do it, or see yourself out. Don’t bother saying goodbye.”

Not willing to risk being fired for agreeing, she instead just nodded her head to show that she understood.

“Good,” he said.

“You’re not a complete idiot. Do you have any questions for me?”

Before this moment, she’d been curious about vacation days and paid time off. Now, though, she was fairly certain asking anything would get her fired.

So, instead, she shook her head. Mr. Drysdale looked to his computer and began typing.

Thinking perhaps he was pulling up something to show her to talk about, Melody waited until the woman gave a tug at her elbow. Confused but not willing to argue anything at that moment, Melody followed the woman out.

Once out of the office, the woman closed the double-doors behind them and exhaled slowly.

“Well, I suppose that was as good as one could hope. Thank you for not asking any questions.”

“This was just an act, right?”

“I’m sorry?” the woman asked, resting the palm of one hand against the other.

“That whole speech about firing myself. All that.”

“Mr. Drysdale is a very particular person. He can afford to be. He’s a very busy man, and doesn’t have the time to nit-pick. That’s your job, now.”

Melody sat at her desk and watched as the woman left. What had she just gotten herself into?

For all of the rudeness, her actual job was simple enough. It was just as he’d said, answering phones and managing his meetings. When he couldn’t make one, he would tell her what to say to the client.

Occasionally, she had to blow off someone lobbying for Richard’s attention. Those he left to her to do. Normally, she would’ve put up a fight about it. Lying to someone, or just dismissing them entirely was not something she could do.

However, that first-day speech had done its job. If she wanted to keep her job, she had to figure it out. No two ways about it.

The first time was the hardest. She’d flubbed the excuse, and Mr. Drysdale left the office before she’d had a chance to get rid of the client. The look on the man’s face had been so stricken, like she’d kicked his puppy.

The next couple were just as bad, but she’d gotten better. After that, she slowly gained some confidence and dismissing the unwanted in a polite and civil manner that brook no argument soon became a skill she actually had.