Adams, Cara - The Hawk, the Wolf, and the Dom [Shape-Shifter Clinic 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting)

by Cara Adams

  “If you work here there will be night work involved, and there is the potential for more than forty hours work a week. Will your woman be unhappy about that?”

  “She works days. As long as we were able to have a couple of nights together each week, I expect that would be fine.”

  Mr. Raymond launched into an unbroken series of questions that kept Gus thinking fast and hard for the next fifteen minutes. Then he said, “If you were able to suggest improvements to this club, what would you say?”

  Surprised, Gus replied, “I’ve never seen your club in action. It’d be quite unfair of me to suggest anything.” Mr. Raymond just stared at him, so Gus thought of the foyer. Slowly, he said, “When I was at the reception desk I noticed the ropes, so I guess you get long lines of people waiting to enter your club. There’s nothing for them to look at or do while they’re in line. I’d put a big screen up on the wall they’re facing and show footage from inside the club. I expect there’s some sound already, but this would make the wait less boring, perhaps.”

  He wondered if he’d overstepped the bounds with his suggestion, but it was the only thing he could think of. He’d never been here before today, so it wasn’t like he was an expert in running a club.

  The older man looked down at his desk, picked up a cell phone, and scrolled through a few screens. “You said you’d performed quite a range of tasks at the club where you work. As well as security, what else have you done?”

  Shit! “I can’t be too precise as I haven’t said anything to my current employer about looking for another job. However, I have done just about everything in the time I’ve been there. I’ve waited tables, been a barman, helped in the office, as well as working security.”

  “How much about managing the club do you know?”

  “Not much on the accounting side, although I’ve received and signed for orders, so I know what a lot of things cost. But just about all the front-of-house type tasks and staff management.”

  “Staff management?”

  “That’s right. Because I’ve been working for the same company for quite a while, people come asking me for help and advice.”

  “Yet, you’re going to throw it all over for some woman?”

  Gus nodded. He was aware what he was doing might seem crazy to another person, but for him, it was the only way to move forward. “I’ll never know if we are right for each other if we don’t spend time together and get to know each other properly. So yes, that’s correct.”

  “I need the name of a reference.”

  Gus had been agonizing over this ever since he clicked Send on the job application. “I haven’t asked him yet, but I believe Mr. Vukic will act as my reference.”

  For just a moment it seemed to Gus that Mr. Raymond looked surprised, but the emotion was so fleeting he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t imagined it.

  “We should make a decision within forty-eight hours. I’ll get back to you then.”

  Thank you, sir.” Gus stood up and turned to see the young man opening the door. He nodded to Mr. Raymond, followed the young man all the way back to reception, then went down to the basement to his car.

  He had no idea whether or not he’d made an idiot of himself, but it was no use worrying about it. It was done now.

  * * * *

  Karen had spent hours writing up her notes from all the interviews, making pie charts, and bar graphs, and pretty color-coordinated spreadsheets. Unfortunately, no matter how pretty they were, there was one teensy tiny, itsy-bitsy, miniscule problem. She had no lead to why George wanted the land. Not one single thread had unraveled into a decent clue.

  It’d been a cool project. She’d had a heap of fun, but she felt rather guilty that all her time had been for nothing. Of course, George was nice and safe in jail right now, and liable to be there for quite a while. Planting a bomb in a health clinic was frowned upon by the authorities. Especially when the bomb blew up quite dramatically when Tegan had run out of the building with it. It’d made a hell of a mess of the garden, and the prosecutor had been quite forthright over how it could have killed a lot of people had Tegan not managed to remove it in time.

  But still, the fact remained the Alpha had tasked her with finding him some evidence, or at the very least a clue, and she’d failed, dammit.

  Karen wasn’t used to failing. She took her work seriously and was almost invariably successful. But this time, not so much.

  She had absolutely zero ideas about what to do next, so she sent in her report and turned her thoughts to getting to know Toby and Dom Augustus better. Well, if he was going to be more than her Dom, likely she should just call him Augustus now. Should she cook them a meal and invite them over to her apartment? No, it was small and in Wolf Central, and neither of them were wolves. She really didn’t think inviting them to a restaurant was a good idea, either. She had no knowledge of their likes and dislikes, and besides, the Dom should do that sort of thing, not her.

  The same problem with going to a movie. How did she know which movie to pick? And if she asked them and they disagreed with each other, how then could she choose between them. That could get very messy very quickly.

  Would it be better to leave everything in the Dom’s hands? Let him make the timeline of what happened when? But that wasn’t really a solution to her issue. Yeah, sure, more dungeon scenes and more bedroom scenes suited her fine, but she wanted time to talk to them both, to get to know them.

  Nope, the only solution was to plan something she would like. Something where they could talk and get to know each other. So what would that be?

  Karen’s problem was that mostly she hung around with wolves. She lived in Wolf Central, she worked for the Alpha, and most of her friends were wolves. But these two men were human. Unless, perhaps Toby…Nah, that was just her imagination running wild. He was human. He had to be human. So, what did humans do to hang out with friends? Shop? Go for coffee? Nope, that was girl stuff. Men were more likely to go to a football or baseball game. But she wanted to talk, not be deafened by the screaming of fans.

  Karen tapped her fingernails on the desk while she tried to think. There was some lookout or other in the foothills of the mountains. Some of her friends had been there and said it was a fun challenge to do and the view at the top was worth the effort. Now what was it called again?

  The Thousand Steps. Karen Googled it and read avidly. Yes, this was it. People could park at the top and at the bottom, but obviously they had to walk both ways to get back to their car. Parking at the bottom would be smarter, because then they’d walk up while they were fresh and the downward trip would be easier to do as they got a bit tired.

  But it seemed awfully popular. Huge numbers of people walked it. Which meant it’d be crowded, and they’d have to wait in line behind slower climbers. That might be a good thing as it’d give them more time to talk to each other, but it could also be a bad thing as they’d get bored and might even get chilled if the sweat dried on their bodies. Catching pneumonia was not the outcome she wanted to get from the activity. She really needed to know if these two men were right for her. Fucking them had sure as hell been awesome, but she needed to know more about them, to learn their likes and dislikes, their interests, even their behavior outside the dungeon.

  Karen clicked through the site and found there didn’t seem to be a gate that closed at a certain time, or a fee payable for entry. Good. Next she checked to find out what time dawn would happen on Saturday and Sunday. Finally she was ready to make her plans. Which was when she realized she had neither cell phone numbers nor e-mail addresses for either man. Dammit! Back to old-fashioned pen and paper. How nineteenth century is this?

  Hi Augustus and Toby,

  I’m planning on walking up the Thousand Steps on Sunday. I’d love you both to come with me. It’d be nice to get to know each other better. We’ll meet in the lower parking lot at five thirty a.m.

  Karen

  RSVP 555-0100

  Done. She printed her note out twice, found
two envelopes then hurried out to her car to deliver both letters. I can’t believe I’m doing this in the twenty-first century. At least when they ring me back I’ll have their cell phone numbers for next time.

  * * * *

  “There’s a letter for you, Toby.”

  “What?”

  Toby stared at Wynter. She was holding out a letter to him. Him! How could that be? He didn’t know anyone, and no one knew he lived here.

  “It won’t bite,” Wynter teased him gently.

  He took it from her and turned it over and over. There was no stamp on it, and no address either, just his name. Suddenly he understood. “Is it from Ambrielle? Or Oscar?”

  “Sort of. Karen dropped it in at the clinic for you. She wanted to know why Quinn hasn’t got a mailbox at the end of the driveway.”

  “Why hasn’t he?”

  “All the bills and official mail goes to the post-office box in town. I guess he never thought of friends wanting to write to you. Everyone just posts on Facebook these days.”

  “Maybe I’ll have to join up,” he joked. He’d actually had a cell phone a few times, a disposable one, so his boss could call him if extra shifts came up for him to work when he was working for tips at various restaurants. But he’d never owned a computer or a laptop or the kind of cell phone that would access Facebook.

  Wynter was still watching him, so he opened the letter, suddenly curious as to what Karen might be saying to him.

  He read the note and asked, “What are the Thousand Steps? I mean, I get that likely they’re stairs, but what are they and where?”

  “I don’t know. I come from the other side of the country, remember.”

  Actually, he’d temporarily forgotten that she’d grown up in California and Oregon following the coastline up and down in an RV with her family. For a shark, living beside the ocean made good sense, and Wynter had only come here when she’d needed surgery, which the shape-shifter clinic had done for her. Now she almost never limped, and most people would never know how badly damaged her knee had been only half a dozen months ago.

  Toby leaned against the wall. He was hungry, and judging by the delicious smells coming from the huge kitchen behind them, a meal was almost ready.

  “Come on. Quinn’ll know.”

  Wynter led the way into the kitchen and Toby followed her. Rainer was setting the table, and Quinn was expertly tossing a salad to go with whatever was simmering on the stove.

  “That smells good,” he said.

  “Yeah, homegrown vegetables have so much more flavor than store-bought ones,” added Rainer.

  “Tell us about the Thousand Steps,” asked Wynter.

  “You don’t have to walk up them. There’s a parking lot at the top. You can drive right up and see the view without getting out of the car,” said Rainer.

  Toby smiled. Rainer was being protective of Wynter. He was a personal care attendant at the clinic and hated anything to happen to any of his patients. Although Wynter’s knee was almost completely recovered, he was still looking after her, assuming she wanted to see the view and explaining to her she could do that without hurting herself.

  “It’s me. I asked about them,” said Toby.

  There was a bit of a wait while Quinn brought a pot of simmering meat and vegetables over to the table, and Rainer carried over the salad and a pile of plates. Toby picked up the coffeepot and mugs, Wynter brought forks, and soon they were all sitting down and serving themselves.

  “It’s a nice place with a good view, although it’s a bit of a challenging walk. The name is more or less accurate. You can count them if you like, but there’s close enough to a thousand steps up the side of the hill. Are you thinking of going there?” asked Quinn, taking a big mouthful of salad.

  “I don’t know,” said Toby.

  “Karen’s invited him,” said Wynter almost at the same time.

  “Why don’t you fly up there tomorrow and have a look around. Do you have to answer her?” asked Quinn.

  Suddenly Toby knew he wanted to go, wanted to be with Karen and with Dom Augustus. “Can you accept for me? I want to go,” he asked softly.

  “Sure. What’s her number?

  Wynter tapped out an acceptance text and showed it to him. Toby nodded and Wynter clicked Send. It was done. He was going. But he could still fly over it and have a look tomorrow. It wouldn’t hurt to have an idea of the terrain. “Is it okay of I borrow one of the trucks Sunday morning to get there, please?”

  “Of course,” said Quinn. “It’ll be good to see you having fun.”

  Toby smiled. Yes. Yes, it would be good to spend time with Karen and the Dom. He really did want to get to know them better. It’d help him decide if he could one day tell them about being a hawk, too.

  * * * *

  Gus told the manager at the BDSM club that he didn’t want to work as a Dom for the moment. The man just stared at him, then nodded abruptly. “Kelsie can’t cope with the bar alone at night. You can help her and wait tables some as well. At least I can trust you to keep count of how many drinks people order.”

  Gus nodded. He knew how vital it was that both subs and Doms entered the dungeon with a clear head able to make good decisions about what happened there. The club pretty much had a two-drink rule. More than that and a client was unlikely to be allowed into the dungeons. But it could be hard to know when an entire table ordered drinks who actually drank what. Some clients were very cunning. There’d be six at the table and six drinks ordered, but one or two people might be drinking water while others were having twice as many drinks as the bartender thought. He could deal with it though. He was used to having his eyes in one place while his hands were doing something else.

  Gus reported for duty at six sharp, ready to work through until midnight if necessary. Until nine the place would be reasonably quiet. People came to eat, watch the floor shows, then maybe spend some time in a dungeon or the bedrooms. After that the floor shows got raunchier, and the clients sometimes got noisier as well. Gus wasn’t fazed. He knew he could deal with it. He also knew that while the manager would be in the back doing his accounts or whatever, he’d have an ear and an eye on what was happening out in the bar and the dining rooms.

  Gus took over the bar and Kelsie went off for a meal break. Her shift finished at ten when the manger himself took a shift until closing. The bar was quiet, so Gus filled the racks with clean glasses, brought up fresh bottles from the wine cellar, and even washed down the empty tables. He found it peaceful and enjoyable, monotonous, soothing, with just enough happening in the big room to keep his brain active.

  By the time Kelsie returned, the room was filling up and the first floor show was about to start. There was a big rush on the bar, as everyone wanted to order before the floor show started, but he was able to keep count of which tables were drinking, and he also had his eye on a particular man who was drinking far more than anyone else at his table. All perfectly normal behavior. Drunks were sent home in a taxi or with their friends. People had a perfect right to drink as long as they didn’t plan to use the dungeons.

  The first show went smoothly, and the early crowd started leaving just as the later group began arriving. All this was exactly as it should be, meaning tables were always filled and the club’s profits stayed high.

  Briana, one of the waitresses on duty, came over to him. “The drunk on table eight just pinched my ass so hard I’m gonna have a bruise for sure,” she complained.

  Gus followed the direction of her gaze, and it was the man he’d been watching.

  “Is he a big tipper?” asked Kelsie.

  “Actually no, but that’s not the point,” said Briana.

  “I’ll handle it.” Gus walked to the table, which was on the upper level overlooking the stage, and spoke quietly to the drunk and his friends. “I’m sorry, sir, but you are not permitted to touch the wait staff. I think it’s time for you and your friends to leave now.”

  The man slitted his eyes and stared at Gus. “Do you k
now who I am?”

  “You’re a client at the BDSM club who manhandled a staff member. Which is not permitted.”

  “I can get you terminated. I can put this little club out of business.”

  “That’s nice, sir. But I’m only one man and this is only one club. We can move anywhere else in the US and retain our identity.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Now the drunk looked confused. Gus stood back while his friends stared at each other. Two of the other men stood up and hitched an arm around the drunk. “Time for us to leave now, good buddy,” said one.

  The fourth man at the table dropped a pile of bills among the glasses. “See the waitress gets the twenty,” he said. Then they left.

  Well, that was easier than I thought it’d be. Gus collected the dirty glasses, put the money in his apron pocket, and wiped the table, then went back to the bar.

  He handed Briana her twenty and put the rest of the money in the till.

  “How did you get rid of them so easily? I felt sure they’d cause trouble,” asked Briana.

  “One man tried to, but he was drunk. Essentially I told him he was only a big fish because this is a little pond.”

  Kelsie nodded at him, but Briana still looked confused.

  Now if only Sunday with Karen and Toby goes as smoothly as that did, life will be perfect.

  * * * *

  Karen went to bed early Saturday night, after laying out the clothes she planned to wear. She wanted to look good, but it was more important that she be able to keep up with the men. She was a wolf, but they were both bigger and stronger than her, and they both looked quite fit as well.

  Consequently she wore sweatpants and top, with a bright pink T-shirt, bright-pink socks, and well-worn and comfortable running shoes.

  She packed a couple bottles of water and a change of clothes and shoes into her gym bag just in case they showered somewhere then had coffee together or something. And in her head was a list of topics she wanted to talk about. Were they both truly human? Did she have that correct? She couldn’t get that damn hawk out of her mind even though she knew the thought of Toby being a bird was crazy. Secondly, did they want to form a relationship outside the dungeon, or was that all in her mind as well. And finally she wanted to know all about them. What were their likes and dislikes, their favorite and least favorite things? That should be enough to talk about for the entire morning.