Romance: Claimed By The Ape: BBW Shapeshifter Romance Standalone (Spicy Shifters Book 4)

by Ashley Hunter

  “Just let me finish, I’m on a roll,” He leaned against the wall beside her, hands stuffed deep into his pockets, “You seem like the type of person who, I don’t have to watch my back around. That’s a big deal to me.”

  “Really? It seems like everyone likes you,” she flashed him a small, teasing smile.

  He chuckled. “They do, but… it’s not always for me. Trust is a hard thing to come by in this line of work. I learned that the hard way.”

  “Hard to come by even outside of work,” Erin muttered, “My last cheating ex can attest to that.”

  “I’m sorry,” he nodded sympathetically, “Never been cheated on, but I’ve also never given anyone the chance. Can’t afford the risk. There are some things about me that if folks knew, well… can’t say that everyone would still like me after.” He trailed off, staring down at the floor, face awash in melancholy thought.

  He looked so vulnerable, so lost, that Erin had to fight down the urge to wrap her arms around him in comfort, as if she could shield him from his own dark musings. She would never have guessed that a person who seemed to be always surrounded by admirers could look as alone as he did in that long, echoing hallway.

  “But...” he continued softly, glancing at her from only the corner of his eye, “You seem different. Like, maybe we could…”

  “Jack!” The assistant director appeared around the corner, franticly waving their arms, “There you are! We’re resetting for Scene 3!”

  The forlorn expression immediately vanished, replaced instantly by Jack’s usual grin as he turned towards the assistant director. “Coming!” He called cheerfully, then glanced at Erin, “You too?”

  “After I get your snacks,” she said, still lost in contemplation of his words.

  He nodded, and with a wink, turned and trolled back towards the rehearsal room.

  Erin sighed, and shook her head as she ventured deeper into the basement towards the dressing rooms. Maybe she’d never figure out who was the real Jack Silver behind that winning smile.

  ~3~

  Despite Jack’s insistence, Erin knew that even a weekend “off” wasn’t exactly a weekend with no work. She let herself indulge in a rom-com marathon with Amanda Friday night, but Saturday morning made sure to check her emails and turn the volume on her phone to high in case he called. It actually felt a little unnerving, she mused as she cleaned the entire apartment from top to bottom before ten am, having a boss who was so laid-back.

  She’d had clients before who insisted they were easy-going, only to throw tantrums if their coffee didn’t have the exact amount of milk they thought it should have. Hell, she’d even dated a few guys like that, guys who thought money meant the world owed them every scrap of whatever they wanted.

  It was always the same story; an “easy-going” boss who turned out to be a jerk, and a guy who said they loved her boldness, only to dump her when she dared have an opinion of her own. She wasn’t going to let herself be surprised when Jack called and suddenly demanded some impossible task be done by Monday.

  So it was strange that by Saturday night, he still hadn’t called.

  “It’s like you want to work on the weekend,” Amanda commented in exasperation as she watched Erin re-organize the soups in the pantry for the third time.

  “I don’t. I just know what to expect,” Erin shrugged, trying to decide if she wanted to organize the soups alphabetically or by brand.

  “Well, clearly you’ve been wrong so far about him. Unless...” Amanda smiled a little knowingly, “Of course, why didn’t I see it before? You’re not worried about work, you’re worried about him. You want him to call you, and not so you can run his errands.”

  Erin rolled her eyes. “I don’t know how many times I have to say it. I’ve sworn off dating, and I’ve certainly sworn off dating playboy rich guys who I am working for.”

  Amanda stretched lazily. “Whatever you say, hot stuff. All I know is you’ve checked your phone more times in the last hour than you ever did for any of your awful exes. Then again, if you say he’s as shallow and ridiculous as they were…”

  “No, he’s really not,” Erin cut in anxiously, only just realizing her week’s worth of complaining about Jack’s flirtatious nature, “He really is a sweetheart, deep down. I mean, like you said, so far he hasn’t contacted me-it seems he was serious about me having the weekend off. Yeah, he’s a playboy, but most of the women he flirts with seem to know it. Only an idiot would fall hard for him.”

  And I’m no idiot, she added firmly to herself. Her sudden flash of jealousy had been a fluke; besides, it was her job to make sure he didn’t get too entangled in drama that could earn him any bad press related to the project. She had to watch out for him, especially since he was too charming and smooth by half to watch out for himself. That’s why she was so concerned; she was protective, nothing more.

  By Sunday morning, she still hadn’t heard from him, though he’d mentioned he’d be back sometime in the afternoon. She grabbed a bus downtown and spent the morning sorting his mail, making sure his apartment was in order and, on a whim, bought a large bunch of bananas from the local grocery, just because she’d smiled at the reminder of him.

  It was strange how used to him she’d gotten in such a small amount of time. She’d even started to miss his silly banter and flashes of sudden depth; life didn’t seem empty without him, but it sure felt a lot more boring.

  Finally deciding to take Jack at his word, Erin rode the bus back to her modest apartment and decided to treat herself to a long soak in the tub and a good French classic. She’d just settled down when there was an urgent knocking at the bathroom door.

  “Erin? You in there?” Amanda called.

  “Yeah, just having a bath.”

  “Well, you might want to postpone it. You have to come and see this.”

  “Amanda, I’ve gone practically on my clothes off.”

  “Then put them back on! Or don’t, whatever. Just come outside. Trust me, you won’t be sorry.”

  Baffled and intrigued, Erin shrugged back on her clothes and jacket, and followed her roommate out into the hallway and down to the landing. A man in business-casual attire with a clipboard stood waiting, turning expectantly as Erin and Amanda pushed open the glass entrance door.

  “Are you Ms. Hughes?”

  “Yes…” Erin said uncertainly.

  “Could you please sign here?”

  “I’m not expecting any packages,” she said, taking the clipboard automatically.

  “Oh, it’s not a package,” the man corrected her blithely,” It’s a car.”

  “A what?” Erin squeaked, staring past him. Parked along the curb was a brand-new black Subaru. She tried to shove the clipboard back towards the man. “I’m sorry, you must have the wrong address.”

  He double-checked the clipboard, “Right address, right name, right description.”

  “Description…? I’m sorry, but I can’t pay for this-”

  “Already paid for,” the man insisted.

  “And no need to pay taxes, since it’s a gift,” Amanda spoke up, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet in excitement.

  “Gift?” Erin glanced between them in alarm.

  “Oh yeah, sorry, was supposed to deliver this as well,” the man dug in his jacket and pulled out a simple white index card. It read:

  So you won’t miss any more of those opportunities. -Jack

  Erin stared at it, too stunned to speak. Equal measures gratitude and revulsion battled within her. Who did the jerk think he was, going ahead and giving her such an expensive, inappropriate gift? What kind of thoughtful, charming guy would do such a thing?

  Erin signed the form numbly, painfully aware of Amanda’s incandescent glee beside her. The second the delivery man disappeared, she seized Erin’s arm and pulled her to the car. “Come on, let’s take it for a test drive! You can drop me off at work!”

  “Why?” Erin asked flatly,” I’m not keeping it.”

  “Oh c
ome on, why not?”

  “Amanda, you know how my job works,” Erin tried to explain patiently, “A gift like this-it’ll make people talk.”

  Amanda sighed dejectedly. “All right, fine, return it. But just ONE drive, huh? I’ve never been in a new car.”

  Erin started to argue, but paused. Perhaps one drive wouldn’t be bad. And she knew exactly where to go.

  She unlocked the doors with a click.

  Amanda clapped her hands with delight. “Ooo, thank you, Mr. Silver!”

  Silver-tongued, more like, Erin thought bitterly as she slide into the driver’s seat.

  * * *

  Erin nodded politely to Frank the doorman as she marched through the opulent lobby of Jack’s building, heading straight for the elevator. According to the schedule, Jack should be home by now; with any luck, he was early enough in the process of seducing his co-star that he could fit in Erin giving him a piece of her mind.

  Teeming with nervous anticipation, Erin waited impatiently for the elevator to finally open, and then barrelled out into his hallway like a cannon shot. She noted the muddy footprints on his doormat that hadn’t been there this morning, and knocked insistently on his door.

  It opened at once.

  “Holy cow, you look like hell,” Erin gasped.

  Jack chuckled weakly. She’d just seen him Friday, and yet it looked like had had grown an entire beard and somehow added an inch or two to his hair in a single weekend. His eyes were rimmed with red, and his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “Sorry,” she apologized sincerely, taking in his appearance with alarm, “I didn’t realize you were, um, roughing it so much this weekend.”

  “I tend to like it a little rough,” he grinned, a small scratch of the old Jake shining through, “Wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow-figured I’d let you enjoy the full weekend. What can I do for you?”

  “Oh-” Erin stumbled. The sight of her boss looking so disheveled had taken her completely out of her stride, the righteous anger gone in a puff of empathetic smoke, “Is, uh, now a good time? I can come back.”

  “It’s always a good time to see you. Come on in,” he gestured, and waited patiently as she crossed the threshold, shutting the door behind her. The apartment was clean and silent, their footsteps echoing as they made their way to the vast living room. It was just as she had left it, and yet there was a strange foreboding in the air, as if Jack had brought back a storm with him.

  He threw himself onto a plush chair and raised his eyebrows expectantly.

  “Yes, so, well, I-got your, um, delivery this morning.”

  “Oh, good,” Jack said brightly,” I wanted it to arrive before Monday.”

  “I can’t accept it.”

  “Wrong color? We can trade it in.”

  “No,” she said more firmly,” I can’t accept any gift from you. It’s massively inappropriate.”

  Jack’s eyebrows knit together. “Why?”

  “It-it just looks bad,” Erin fumbled, trying to verbalize the unease in her belly. It’d all been so clear when she’d rehearsed what she was going to say in the car, but under the gaze of her boss’ intense blue eyes, words seemed to fail her. It’s like he either leaves me speechless or makes me say too much, she thought wryly.

  “Bad?” He repeated, “For my assistant to not ride the bus everywhere?”

  “The bus is fine.”

  “The bus has a schedule, as you so eloquently pointed out on your first day,” Jack stood, seemingly suddenly taller and commanding, his broad shoulders squared back, “I need an assistant who can handle potential issues outside of a normal bus schedule.”

  Erin’s face grew hot at at the implication. “Are you suggesting I haven’t been handling issues?”

  “No-”

  “Then the bus is a non-issue,” she said shortly, “I handle it.”

  Jack sighed in exasperation. “Erin, you’re a good assistant. Just let me buy you a freaking car.”

  “No!”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not some fling who can be bought off with something shiny,” the words tumbled from her mouth without any input from her brain. They were raw, and uncontrolled, speaking a truth she didn’t dare acknowledge even to herself. She quickly tried to swallow them back up, “I just mean… that kind of favoritism, and people will talk. They’ll… they’ll say we’re sleeping together. That I’m a… cheap office fling.”

  “And that bothers you; what others might think?” he confirmed softly.

  “Of course it bothers me!” She scowled, “It’s all right for you to be a playboy! I have a reputation to uphold. If clients think I’ve been anything less than one hundred percent professional... You can sleep around, and have a different girl every night, and do whatever you please, and people still think you’re amazing, because you’re Jack Silver, you’re a star, you’re a stud, but some of us have normal people jobs and normal people lives.”

  She saw, even before she finished, that she’d gone too far. His handsome face registered such concentrated shock and pain that her breath caught in her throat at the sight. She waited, the silence cutting at her insides, for him to explode, to order her out of his apartment, out of his sight.

  The gentle tone of his voice then disturbed her even more, “Erin. No one who has met you could doubt you’d ever be anything but professional. And anyone who does… well, they were gonna talk regardless of your actions, just because you’re a pretty girl in a certain occupation, working for, let’s face it, something of a cad.” He smiled ruefully.

  His words struck her speechless. Amazement and horrified guilt at how badly she had acted, and yet how gracious he was, seemed to short-circuit her capacity to think. She could only gape in astonishment as he stepped closer-so close she could have brushed her cheek against the soft cotton of his fitted gray t-shirt. She should have recoiled, but she was frozen. She watched, transfixed, as he smiled again, a sadder, softer smile, his crystal eyes crinkling at the corners, a smile that seemed to ignite every nerve within her.

  “Take the car,” he ordered quietly, never breaking his gaze, “It’d be a load off my mind. Think of it as a favor-something you’d be doing for me.”

  “For you?” She said stupidly.

  “Yeah. It’d made me happy. Okay?” Dear Lord, how could she say no to a smile like that? When he looked at her with that expression, the heat in his gaze melted every defense she had. Hell, if he asked her to strip naked and swim through all five of the Great Lakes, she’d do it. Wow, I really am that pathetic, she thought weakly.

  “Ok,” she said.

  “Good,” he nodded. He hesitated, indecision flashing through his body, but slowly, reached up and brushed a lock of hair away from her face.

  “I’m sorry about-” she started, unable to help herself.

  “Don’t,” he cut her off, “You didn’t say anything that… wasn’t true. Never apologize for being honest with me. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

  “But I should have found a better way to say it,” she insisted desperately.

  He shook his head, “You say what you think. I like that; I like you. I could act like the world’s biggest jerk, and no one would ever say anything, because… well, I’m Jack Silver. People don’t really care who I am; arrogant, kind, funny, stupid. All they care about is that I keep the money coming.”

  “And yet, you are kind. You’re not a jerk. That means something-you should be proud of that,” before she could stop herself, Erin reached forward, as if to touch his shoulder in reassurance. He quickly stepped back, as if suddenly afraid to be too near her.

  “I’m sorry-”

  “No, it’s not you, just… had a rough weekend.”

  “Oh, right. Of course,” she paused, hopelessly casting around for any topic of conversation, “Would you like me to grab you dinner?”

  “I’m fine. Why don’t you head home-try to enjoy the rest of your weekend,” he smiled, but his
expression was wary and tight, no longer the gregarious flirt.

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah. I… think I’d like to be alone, if that’s okay.”

  “Of course!” She said hurriedly, “If you need anything, just let me know. And I’ll-see you tomorrow?”

  “Bright and early,” he agreed, with a touch of his old humor back. He walked her to the door, and waved her off with a smile, but Erin had a feeling that, as soon as the door closed after her, the smile went too.

  ~4~

  The next six weeks went by in a blur. Jack had finally returned to his gregarious, charming self; for the first week after their fight, he had been withdrawn and wane, speaking to almost no one except in polite “yes’s” and “no’s” when he wasn’t rehearsing. The next camping trip saw him come back looking even more disheveled than before.

  Erin considered putting her foot down and demanding to know what was happening to him out there in the northern woods and why she should tolerate it, but he rapidly returned to his normal self right after. Not daring to cause another rift between them, she wisely dropped the subject.

  The four weeks before opening night, Erin was sure neither she or Jack ever saw anything except the four walls of the theater or their own apartments.

  Despite working at a frantic pace, there always seemed to be something to do; making travel arrangements for Jack’s family, organizing an after play celebration dinner at the trendy Butcher and Boar (locally renowned for their banana splits), and doing the thousand little odds and ends that even a laidback star like Jack needed done.

  Once they’d started dress rehearsals, Erin had decamped to Jack’s private dressing room, where she could adequately spread out her many to-do lists. Jack found her there the day before opening night, her curls seeming to crackle with energy as she paced around the small room.

  “The interview looks good, but could you strike the mention about the upcoming movie, they’re still in negotiations,” she told the Star Tribune reported on the other end of the call as Jack slipped discreetly through the dressing room door, “Thanks, we really appreciate it. It’ll be in tomorrow’s edition? Fantastic. Thank you so much for letting me take a look at it, Mary, I really-gah!”