The Mating Game: Big Bad Wolf

by Georgette St. Clair

  All she could do was move forward. She had to hurry – she needed to get home and change, because there was no way she was going to school in this outfit. The other teachers would be at the playground soon for volunteer cleanup day. She didn’t want to leave them doing all the work.

  The pounding on the door grew louder.

  Exasperated, she stalked over and flung the door open, and a reporter stumbled back and then quickly began taking pictures. There was a crowd of reporters clustered around, standing on Ryker’s lawn, cameras aimed at her.

  She spun around and grabbed the door, trying to go back into the house, but it had locked behind her.

  Flashbulbs popped in her face, and she flinched and fell back.

  She glanced down at herself and realized she was wearing her jacket inside out. She looked in the reflective glass of the windows and flinched. Hair standing straight up, makeup smeared – this was the ultimate walk of shame. The walk to end all walks.

  And the worst part?

  She hadn’t even done anything to be ashamed of. Now, that totally sucked.

  And, she remembered, her car wasn’t here; it would still be back at the restaurant. She needed a ride to her car.

  She pulled her cell phone from her clutch and quickly called Larissa and told her where she was.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Larissa said. “But you have to tell me all the dirty deets.”

  Daisy sat down on the front steps, ignoring the questions that the reporters shouted at her, and waited for Larissa to get there.

  A few minutes later, Larissa came racing up the block and pulled to a halt in front of Ryker’s house. As Daisy hurried towards her car, one of the photographers got in front of her and blocked her path. “So, you’re clearly not Ryker’s usual type,” he sneered.

  She tried to step around him. He moved to block her. She stepped the other way. He moved again to block her and shoved the camera in her face and took a picture, and the bulb went off, nearly blinding her.

  Now she’d had it. She believed in the freedom of the press as much as the next person – but this reporter was crossing the line into assault when he prevented her from leaving.

  She put her hands on his chest and pushed so hard that he flew backwards into the bushes, squawking and waving his arms in outrage. Of course, the cameras went crazy.

  Now she’d totally blown any chance of impressing Ryker’s investors. They wanted to see him dating someone respectable and classy? Clearly not her.

  First the horrible walk of shame with the inside-out jacket, morning-after makeup and hell hair, and then she’d assaulted someone in front of a dozen other reporters.

  There was no way that Ryker would want to see her again. Realizing that sent a sharp jab of pain and disappointment lancing through her. Why should it matter? They would only have been together for a couple of weeks anyway.

  Now reporters were crowding onto the pathway, blocking her from getting to Larissa.

  “Move it!” she yelled.

  Larissa drove past the reporters up onto the lawn, through a hedge, over a flowerbed, and pulled up next to Daisy.

  Daisy had forgotten – there was a reason Larissa got so many traffic tickets. Come to think of it, she probably wasn’t supposed to be driving at all.

  Well, that’s the cherry on the sundae, Daisy thought ruefully as she scrambled into the car. Ryker’s probably going to move and go into witness protection to get away from me.

  As Larissa drove off over what was left of Ryker’s flowerbeds, Wynona called her on her cell phone.

  “Hello, I’m not dead,” Daisy said.

  “What was I thinking, opening a mating agency?” Wynona moaned. “All my mating mojo has left me. I set you up with the biggest jerk in the world. I wonder if the bank would take me back.”

  “Don’t do it! You hated working at the bank. And don’t worry about the date,” Daisy said. “It was…unique. It wasn’t all bad. Look, let me call you back later, and don’t do anything rash.” She hung up the phone.

  “Tell me what happened!” Larissa demanded, pouting. She tended to act like a sulky middle-schooler if she didn’t get all the details of Daisy’s romantic life.

  “I had two drinks and fell asleep while he was in the shower. Then I woke and he was gone,” Daisy said.

  “That’s it?” Larissa glanced at her in annoyance. “You went out with Ryker Harrison, and that was the best you could do?”

  “Well, excuse me, it’s not exactly the date I was envisioning either. Eyes on the road!” She shrieked as Larissa swerved to avoid a bicyclist.

  Note to self – call an Uber next time. Or walk, she thought.

  Daisy looked up Ryker’s work email on her cell phone and sent him a text with her home address, telling him to send her a bill for the lawn. There went her measly savings – and she’d be eating ramen noodles for the next six months.

  Her phone rang again. Ugh, the mother ringtone. Well, no point putting it off. She answered it.

  “Daisy Bennett, did I see you on the news eating a hot dog? In public?” her mother moaned. “I thought I raised you better than that!”

  * * * * *

  Daisy had moved to Cedar Park from Georgia six months previously for three reasons: Because her aunt lived there, because it was far away from her cheating ex-fiancé and her suffocating family, and because she’d been offered a teaching job at Miss Bolker’s School for Proper Young Shifters. Her parents had cut her off when she’d refused to take Frasier back, so to finance the move, she’d sold the jewelry she’d inherited from her grandmother, and found roommates.

  She’d moved there in May and waitressed all summer while waiting for school to start.

  Literally the day before she was due to show up for orientation, she got a message from Miss Bolker’s saying that they would no longer be hiring her because they’d found a more qualified candidate.

  Daisy had been suspicious – wealthy southern shifters tended to move in the same circles, and her parents knew members of the school’s board of trustees. Had they done this to force her to go back home and accept Frasier’s proposal?

  No matter.

  Daisy couldn’t afford to move, and she liked living near Wynona, so she had gone on a mad scramble to find a job somewhere in Cedar Park that would hire her. Despite her teaching degree and excellent recommendations, none of the private schools were hiring. She’d had no experience with public schools in her life, but she loved teaching and was determined to find a place that would take her. It turned out that there was an immediate opening at the Wildwood Elementary and Middle School – and she very quickly found out why. Nobody wanted to work at that school, or in that section of town.

  She’d been working there for a month now. It was…interesting.

  She felt she was struggling to break through to the kids. She came from a different world than they did, and maybe they sensed that. They also saw teachers come and go all the time, and many of them had been abandoned by adults in their lives. On the one hand, it was very rewarding to work with kids who actually needed her. But she felt as if most of them were wary and untrusting. Would they ever open up to her?

  As she climbed out of her car, she saw that someone had spray-painted over the parking lot security cameras. Now they were bright blue, Daisy saw as she pulled her car to a stop.

  And the prime suspect was leaning on a parked car and cleaning her nails with a pocket knife, fifty-one inches of bad attitude and emerald-streaked hair. Jasmine usually hid her pocket knife somewhere outside the school and retrieved it at the end of the day, to dodge the metal detectors. She’d also sharpened her claws so that when she partially shifted and extended them, she didn’t need any knife.

  “So how’s my favorite terrorist this morning?” Daisy asked Jasmine Diaz, a very bright thirteen–year-old who kept getting held back because she didn’t play nice with others.

  “I haven’t shanked anyone yet,” Jasmine said with a shrug. Daisy couldn’t tell if Jas
mine thought that was a good thing or a bad thing.

  “Would you like to help us clean up the playground?”

  Jasmine stifled a snort of amusement. “You don’t know me at all, do you?”

  “Why are you here on a Sunday?” Daisy asked.

  Jasmine shrugged. “Just finished morning detention. I punched Billy Jordan because he grabbed my butt.”

  Daisy started walking towards the playground, and Jasmine followed her with a bored expression on her face.

  They passed by a dull brick wall that was brightened by a glorious explosion of spray-paint art. “That is something else,” Daisy said admiringly.

  “You like it?” Jasmine said, surprised.

  “I love it. I wouldn’t mind having a painting from that artist to hang on my wall.”

  “I might know how to contact the artist,” Jasmine said cautiously.

  “Is she about ninety pounds and has green hair and a smart mouth?” Daisy asked, looking at Jasmine.

  “Are you a spy for the cops?” Jasmine demanded.

  “No, crazy J. I don’t think the cops have spies, and even if they did, I doubt they’d bother sending one in as a teacher to hunt down a graffiti artist. They don’t really have the budget for that.”

  Jasmine pondered that. “Being a spy for the cops would actually be a pretty cool job,” she observed as they walked along.

  “Where are you going now?” she asked Jasmine.

  “Probably go tag some more buildings.”

  “Why don’t you help me clean up the playground instead?” Daisy suggested again. “Less chance of getting arrested.”

  “What’s in it for me?” Jasmine persisted.

  “The pleasure of my company.”

  Jasmine pretended to think about it. “Nah. Not really feeling it.” She held out her hand and rubbed her thumb against her index finger. “What else is in it for me?”

  “You’re quite the capitalist, aren’t you?” Daisy said, torn between amusement and annoyance.

  “Quite the what?” Jasmine looked puzzled.

  “Never mind.” Daisy fished in her purse. “Fine, I’ll bribe you. Here’s ten bucks. Go get me coffee and a cruller from Debbie’s Donutz, and get something for yourself too.”

  “What if I run off with the money and never come back?”

  “Ten bucks?” Daisy scoffed. “Yeah, that should get you over the border into Mexico, at least. If you run off, you will be deprived of my witty repartee and the chance to sell me your graffiti paintings. Besides, you wouldn’t leave your grandma behind.” Daisy knew that Jasmine was very close to her grandmother, who was raising her and barely eking out a living as a nurse’s aide.

  “I did not say that I was Jkat2016, and I don’t know what ‘re-partay’ is. I might come back if you promise to stop using all those vocabulary words.” And Jasmine left at a fast trot.

  Chapter Six

  Daisy was tired and sweaty and dirty after spending the morning cleaning up the school playground,and all she wanted was a hot shower. But something was wrong. She paused in the doorway of her apartment, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. “Cadence? Larissa?” she called. Their cars hadn’t been parked in their usual spots, so she knew they weren’t there, which was not surprising. It was a bright sunny day – they’d be out shopping or at the movies or at a museum.

  But…someone had been in the apartment. Strangers.

  She scented the air and listened. She was pretty sure that nobody was there right now.

  Hesitantly, she walked through the doorway. Everything in the living room looked fine, but she had the oddest feeling that someone had been there.

  Then she saw a note on the coffee table. It was from her roommate Cadence. “Thanks for telling me about this! Not.”

  Telling her about what?

  Daisy walked into her bedroom, exasperated – and her heart almost stopped.

  Everything was gone.

  The room was completely empty.

  The bed, dresser, nightstand, lamps, pictures…even the curtains.

  She rushed over to her closet. It was stripped bare.

  She rushed back out to the living room. There were a few things missing. The ficus plant. Three paintings. A vase and end table.

  All things that belonged to her.

  Who would do this? Her pack? That seemed the most likely answer, since at a quick glance it looked as if everything belonging to Cadence, Larissa and Doris was still there. If so, she’d never see any of her belongings again. They were wealthy and powerful and owned the police in her county. They’d smugly deny it, thinking that now she’d have no choice but to go home. She’d be left with the clothes on her back.

  With shaking fingers, she called the police to report the robbery, then sat down on the couch to wait.

  What would she do? She hadn’t paid for renter’s insurance, because she was so broke, so if the police couldn’t find her stuff, then she was truly, totally screwed.

  Her phone vibrated, and she remembered that she’d turned off the volume when she’d gone to clean up the school. Her aunt had called, her mother had called, Cadence had called. She didn’t have the heart to talk to any of them right now.

  She sat there by herself, and burst into tears as she waited for the police to arrive.

  A police officer arrived about twenty minutes later. He was a stocky, middle-aged wolf shifter.

  As she started explaining what had happened, a small fleet of cars pulled up. There was Ryker in his little red sports car, and his Uncle Walt and some woman Daisy didn’t recognize in a shiny new Porsche, and a group of other people in a mini-van pulled up next to them.

  They all climbed out and hurried up to Daisy, who was standing outside her front door staring at them in bafflement. A short, round woman who scented vaguely like Ryker rushed up to her, accompanied by a man who looked like an older, lean version of Ryker and walked with a pronounced limp.

  “Daisy!” the woman said, throwing her arms around her. “You’ll have to excuse me – I’m a hugger.” She felt like a soft pillow, and smelled like flour and jam, as if she’d just been cooking. The complete opposite of Daisy’s mother, who felt lean and bony and smelled of Chanel No. 5 and always had lettuce on her breath.

  Then the woman stepped back. “Oh, I’m sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Harriet Harrison, Ryker’s mother, and this is my husband, Lem. I want you to know that we come from good stock, so you don’t have to worry about passing along any crazy genes.”

  “Uncle Torrence,” a tall, skinny teenaged girl piped up.

  “Okay, that’s one,” Harriet said to her impatiently. “But only when he’s been sampling the moonshine. Mostly.”

  “Your great-aunt Susan,” Lem mused. “She was a little tetched.”

  “You are not helping,” Harriet said, looking at him severely. “And she wasn’t tetched before she tried to jump off the barn roof into the swimming pool and missed.” Then she favored Daisy with a big smile.

  “You mean you actually still want me to see your son?” Daisy said in surprise. “After the way I looked on the news, stuffing hot dogs in my face and beating up a reporter, I figured you’d be taking out a restraining order.”

  “Good heavens, girl. I saw a lady with a healthy appetite, who doesn’t put up with any guff from anybody. Two requirements if you’re going to make it in this pack.”

  Then she finally paused to take a really good look at Daisy. “Oh, dear, are you crying?” she said with alarm. “Why are you crying? Lem, give the girl your kerchief.”

  Daisy sniffled and wiped at her nose with the back of her arm. “Oh, I’ll be fine. I’m unfortunately in the middle of an emergency here,” she said. “There’s been a burglary. Everything I own is gone.”

  Harriet went pale and, for some reason, looked away and gulped hard. “Oh dear.”

  Ryker skewered his mother with a ferocious glare. “Yes, that’s why we’re here,” he said.

  “How did you know about
the burglary already?” Daisy stared at him in confusion. “And how did you find me here?”

  “You texted your address to me because of the damage to my lawn? Don’t worry about that, anyway – it’s the reporters’ fault. Just give me one minute,” Ryker said.

  He inclined his head at the police officer, and the two of them stepped aside and had an urgent, hurried conversation.

  “Well, why didn’t she say so?” the police officer said, looking back at Daisy in confusion. Then he gave her grin and a big thumbs-up, said “Congratulations”, and turned and walked away.

  “He’s leaving?” Daisy said, bewildered.

  Ryker stalked back over, his brows drawn together in a thunderous glare.

  “Mother, is there something you want to tell Daisy?” Ryker said through gritted teeth.

  “But…” She looked at him with a wide-eyed, pleading stare. “Then she really will think our pack is crazy.”

  “You don’t think you’d have to tell her eventually?”

  Harriet cleared her throat and looked nervously at Daisy. “Apparently there’s been a teensy tiny itsy bitsy…”

  “Mother!” Ryker barked.

  She shot him a hurt look. “I’m not deaf, you know.”

  “Right. Now,” he growled at her, and his ears briefly went pointy and furry.

  “…misunderstanding,” she finished.

  “It’s my fault,” Ryker told Daisy. “She asked me how my date with you went, and I said great. So, uh…she rounded up a bunch of my relatives, came over here today while you were at work, and moved all of your stuff to my house on our pack property.”

  “Yes, it was meant to be a surprise!” Harriet said brightly.

  “Ahhh…wow. Yes, I certainly was surprised,” Daisy said, blinking in astonishment. Her heart was starting to slow down to something resembling a normal level now. Okay. So she hadn’t just lost everything she owned.

  But she was going to spend the next few weeks pretending to be mated to a guy whose family was batshit crazy.

  “In his defense, that’s pretty much how things are with shifters in our neck of the woods,” Walt said. “Once you find your mate, you know it, and things move very quickly. That’s why the police officer left; he understands how things work around here.”