The Billionbear's Bride: BBW Bear Shifter BWWM Paranormal Romance
The Billionbear's Bride
By Zoe Chant
© 2015 Zoe Chant
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
Violet
Violet Simmons's keys fell into the glass dish with a clatter, and she closed the door behind herself gratefully, slumping back. Her knees felt weak; exhaustion coursed through her, culminating in a heavy sigh that no one heard. She was alone.
She hadn't done anything physically strenuous that morning, unless you counted sitting in a waiting room for a couple of hours as "strenuous." But every time she took her sister Jana to her dialysis treatments, she came back feeling completely, utterly drained.
That isn’t right
, she scolded herself as guilt pricked at her. Her financial problems weren't more important than Jana's
health
. She knew that. But every treatment seemed to sink Violet into a deeper, darker hole that threatened to one day close up around her and drown her.
It was still dark in the apartment; Violet reached up to flick the light switch.
Nothing.
At first her brain didn't register the significance. She tried again—and once more—still no light materialized.
After the third time reality finally sank in to her overworked, overstressed brain.
The electricity had been cut off.
She knew her current bank balance. There was no way she could get it turned back on.
That was the last straw for Violet, whose legs crumpled and fell heavily to the floor. She barely felt the impact that jarred her knees as a dark despair welled up inside of her, overwhelming her. She curled into herself.
She willed herself not to start crying, but it was no use. She choked out a sob that couldn't be swallowed.
Dimly she remembered receiving the notice. The bill had been colored pink as an attention-getting warning. She recalled looking at the date specified—
services may be cut off after October 24
—and thinking with hopeless clarity,
There's no way I'm going to make that
. It had been her hope that they wouldn't do it immediately, that they would give her just a few days' grace period before she got paid again. And they had; today was the 27th. But she wouldn't get paid for five more days. Five days without air conditioning, lights, or a refrigerator.
For months Violet had held it together, trying to be strong—both for her sister and herself. Tried to bear up under the weight of her bills and debt. Jana had never seen a hint of her sister's money problems, because Violet had never let her. She knew Jana would beat herself up even more for having not bought health insurance, which was where all these problems had started.
And Violet had kept it all to herself, pushed it down deep where no one would ever see it. She couldn't abide by weakness, at least not weakness that other people could see. But deep down inside, she'd known that she wouldn't be able to pull off that amazing illusory balancing act forever. She was the only resource her sister had had: their parents were gone, and there was no one else to help pick up the slack for Jana. Her meager savings had long since been depleted; her new credit card had just been maxed out. She'd known the day was coming when her bills would become the victim, too.
And here it was, hitting her like a semi-truck.
Violet hated crying, but there was no stopping it now. It rose up in her like a wave, knocking down the walls of her self-control with ease. Huddling on the floor of her dark apartment, she poured out the tears she'd held in for so long.
Each sob wrenched her body painfully, reminding her of her weakness. She tried to wipe away the tears, but they just kept coming, welling up from deep down in her core. Desperate deep breathing exercises didn't help; she just started hiccupping. As if she hadn't lost enough dignity already.
If only she could have taken out a loan for the bank—if only she could have negotiated for a better payment plan at the hospital when Jana went into renal failure the first time—if only (the lonely part of her mind whispered) there was someone in her life who could help her, walk with her through this dark time—
That, of all things, made her laugh. It was half a hiccup, wet and sardonic, but it was a laugh nevertheless.
She didn't want to return to her old fantasy, the one she'd nourished since her college days, but it was inescapably attractive, and she clung to it for a little bit of comfort—a rich man, a real-life prince, one day swooping into her life and sweeping her off her feet. Only instead of relieving her of the boredom of her marketing job, now the daydream had a new twist—he would take care of all of Jana's medical bills, pay for the transplant they couldn't afford, and declare it was nothing—nothing in comparison to the love he felt for Violet.
Stupid
, Violet berated herself half-heartedly. Life wasn't like a Disney movie. Especially for curvy black women.
It would be nice, though, she thought to herself wistfully. Someone who would cherish her, lavish her with attention and love. Someone who would take care of her and make sure she never had a need go unmet.
But Violet just had herself to depend on. She took a deep breath to calm herself. The tears were slowing down now; she swiped at them with the back of her hand.
She had to think of a plan. She couldn't go to Jana's; she still didn't want her little sister to know how bad things were and start feeling bad about that too. Her treatments were painful and stressful enough already.
But maybe there wasn't
just
herself. Violet had never let herself think about that possibility; she was afraid of what lay down that road. Now, in her dark night of the soul, she considered it. She had friends; one friend in particular that she'd known since childhood.
Wanda. There was Wanda. They'd grown up together on the same block, then been roommates in college and nursed each other through their first heartbreaks, first job applications, and first apartment-finding quests. She hadn't wanted Wanda to know how bad things were, either; but she knew Wanda would come for her.
A couch to sleep on for a few days. That wasn't so bad, was it? She tried to feel optimistic about the prospect. She could still keep it under control and under wraps so nobody else would know. She could still salvage this.
She was pathetically grateful to find that her phone was charged; she didn't want to take her charger to the coffee shop down the street with raccoon eyes from mussed mascara. She dialed Wanda's number.
"Hey girl, what's up?" Her childhood friend's perpetual cheer made Violet feel both better and worse: better, because Wanda just had that effect on people, and worse, because Violet knew she was about to ruin her Saturday morning.
"Hey." Just that one word was laden with the remnants of Violet's tears: it came out thick and heavy.
Immediately Wanda picked up that something was wrong. "Is everything okay? Are you okay?"
Violet sniffed and forced the difficult words out, even though she hated them. "Wanda, I'm really sorry, but I—I need your help with something."
"Anything! What's going on?"
Her eyes grew hot and prickly. Of course Wanda would be there for her. How could she have feared otherwise? "Can I come by your place?"
* * *
Wanda made them a pot of coffee while Violet sat on the couch, twiddling her thumbs and feeling bad for being a burden. On the shelf across the room was a much-beloved photo of Wanda and Violet as kids, playing. They were maybe ten or eleven, Violet guessed. They looked happy and carefree—those were the days, she thought with mingled nostalgia and envy. Days with no worries, no idea of what lay ahead for them.
As soon as she'd walked in, Wanda had seen immediately from Violet's expression that something was wrong. Maybe she'd also seen that Violet would have trouble talking about it, because she hadn't pressed the issue, just invited her friend in and immediately began mother-henning about.
While Wanda busied herself getting the cream and sugar, Violet thought about what she would say. There was no way she could ask Wanda for money; although she was a personal assistant to an important businessman, she didn't make
that
much, and Violet didn't want to put a strain on her.
Besides, money problems could put a quick end to a relationship—Violet had seen that herself, from the other end, from back when she'd been dating Chad. Chad had had serious gambling problems, and was always asking Violet for money. It wasn't the fact that he didn't make much that strained the relationship, but how irresponsibly he'd treated it, how it was a constant, ongoing source of irritation between them that had eventually eroded the relationship. Violet didn't want anything like that to happen to her friendship with Wanda. That would just be too much for her to take.
Wanda knew how Violet took her coffee, with way too much cream and sugar—her words—and she set what looked like a perfect cup into Violet's hands.
Violet was perched on the edge of the couch, almost hunched over; Wanda sat down across from her on the coffee table, cradling her own cup. Wanda bumped their knees together amiably.
"Something's been going on for a while now," said Wanda quietly.
Violet's head jerked up. That wasn't what she'd expected to hear.
Her lack of response told Wanda the answer was
yes
. Violet's gaze dropped guiltily.
"How did you know?" she asked, her throat thick.
Wanda arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow. "Girl, are you kidding me? We've known each other since kindergarten. I've known something was up for
months
."
Of course she had. Who knew her better than Wanda? Hot shame flooded her. She hadn't even been disguising it as well as she thought—she was just failing at everything lately, it seemed like.
"Why didn't you say anything?" asked Violet.
One shoulder lifted and dropped. "You obviously didn't want me to," Wanda said matter-of-factly. "You keep to yourself, you know—so much, way more than you have to. Sometimes it's impossible to get you out of that shell."
While she tried to delay the inevitable conversation, Violet took a sip of her coffee. It
was
perfect for her. No one knew her like Wanda. Her eyes dropped again.
"I guess now you're ready to talk to me…?" Wanda asked, a little pointedly, and one corner of her mouth quirked in a small smile.
"You know how Jana's been having kidney problems?"
Wanda nodded; that wasn't a secret.
"She didn't have insurance when she first had to go to the hospital…" Violet continued, watching Wanda's eyes widened as events progressed. She told the whole story, from when Jana first began getting sick to how she couldn't pay for the hospital bills from her part-time, no-benefits job to how Wanda began picking up the slack for her—not realizing at first how bad it was going to be, how the bills would stack up and the interest would just keep growing and growing into a mountain that was impossible to scale.
Even though it was difficult, even humiliating, Violet couldn't deny there was relief in finally,
finally
unburdening herself. In telling another human soul what was going on with her.
"So I got home from the dialysis center today, and I hadn't paid the electricity for a while, I guess, and they cut it off," Violet concluded, turning the cup between her hands nervously. She hadn't sipped any more of it, and it was beginning to grow cold.
She tried to smile, like it was nothing, but Wanda saw right through that. "Violet," she said, half-sympathetically and half-reproachfully, and that broke through Violet's carefully constructed dam again. Warm tears flooded her eyes, and she felt her throat tighten.
Impulsive Wanda reached across the gap between them and hugged her hard. Violet sniffled into her shoulder and felt two more tears run down her cheeks to stain Wanda's yellow cardigan.
"I just don't know what to do," she confessed. "It can't go on forever, but I can't stop, either. Someone has to pay for Jana, and there's no one else, there's just me."
Wanda rubbed her back. "It's okay, it's okay. I know"—she sounded frustrated and sad—"I know you just want to help your sister."
"Don't tell Jana," she pled tearfully. "I don't want her to know about this—at least not yet.
Please
."
"Not telling people things is what
got
you into trouble in the first place," warned Wanda, sternness in her expression, but then she sighed. "But I won't tell her if you don't want me to."
"Thank you." Her words were fervent. Violet knew Wanda was almost as protective of her little sister as she was herself; there had been many times when Wanda had stepped between a playground bully and Jana, defending her with all her little-girl strength. Violet knew she could trust Wanda's word.
"So you're staying with me, right?" asked her best friend, pulling back to check.
Violet felt helpless. "I—you don't have to—"
Wanda gave her a Look. "I didn't ask if I
had
to, I asked if you were staying here."
"If that's okay," said Violet meekly.
"I have a couch, don't I? It even folds out and everything. C'mon," Wanda cajoled at Violet's hapless expression. "Everything's going to be all right. You hear me?"