Protected by the MC: Bear Shifter Biker Reverse Harem Read online

  “That’s one of the main streets,” Vanessa tells me, thinking. “What did you say the agency name was?”

  “Look Models,” I reply.

  “You’d think they’d have a sign up or something,” she continues, wondering.

  “I’m sure they have it on Hoover Street. This is just temporary. They probably don’t want to invest too much in that location, as they’re already investing in the main office,” I share my reasoning.

  “I guess you’re right,” Vanessa nods and for some reason, I feel relieved. “So, you’re going to Jefferson Avenue tomorrow?”

  “I’m supposed to meet them at a cafe across the street from the current office. I think it’s Cathy’s Cupcakes or something?”

  “I know the place,” Vanessa smiles. “Good coffee and good cupcakes, too.”

  “Well, I’m meeting this lady there tomorrow at 9:00 am and she said we’ll just go together.”

  Vanessa smiles at me again. Her confidence is contagious and the little anxiety that I had in me, is now gone.

  “Did you bring nice clothes?” she asks me. “You could borrow something from me, if you want.”

  I grin widely. Another trip down memory lane, trying out mother’s dresses from the time when she was a girl. She has a box of old necklaces that she never wears anymore and on special occasions, she allowed us to put them on. I still remember seeing those pearls sparkle around my neck, as if someone had picked a bunch of stars and put them there. That was the first time I saw myself as something more than just a dirty, small-town girl who would never amount to anything. Those pearls whispered to me that I could and I believed them.

  “What do you have?” I wonder, giggling.

  “Well, come and let me show you!”

  She jumps up and walks over into a small room that only has enough space for a bed and a wardrobe. The mirror is squeezed in the corner, fitting in there perfectly. She swings the wardrobe door wide open, to show me the selection.

  “You can take whatever you want,” she offers.

  “Thank you,” I reply, not taking my eyes off of the clothes.

  I can’t recognize half of the stuff in there. Her taste has changed somewhat, but her love for colors and flowers remained. We spend the rest of the afternoon trying on different clothes and shoes to go with them. Heels make me feel almost dizzy, but I know they will add to the first impression, so I walk a little, trying to practice. Vanessa finds it hilarious. Heck, I find it hilarious, too.

  That night, we are lying together in bed, like we used to do when we were little girls; when one of us had a sleepless night, she would wake the other one up. There is a little night light in the corner of the room and Vanessa has placed a thin strip of some blue fabric over it, so the whole room looks like it was submerged underwater.

  “I know you’re nervous,” she starts talking first, as we both gaze at the ceiling and the blue infinity all around us. “But I think this is the best way to try to obtain your dream.”

  “I feel like my feet are itching to run back home,” I admit.

  She is the only person in the world I would admit this to.

  “I want to grab mom’s skirt and never let go, knowing that’s the only place where I’ll always be safe.”

  “I know,” Vanessa sighs. “But you’ve taken the first step. Now, you just need to keep moving in the same direction. Even if you’re moving slowly, it doesn’t matter, as long as you don’t stop.”

  “What if they take one look at me and realize I’m not as pretty as in the photos?” I wonder.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Vanessa snaps at me, playfully. “You’ve got the looks. Now, you need the confidence to go with it.”

  “That’s the tricky part,” I sigh. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?” she asks me and I see confusion in her eyes. She really doesn’t know what I’m talking about.

  “Well, you. How do you do, you?” I ask, giggling at the weird question.

  “Oh, that,” she laughs, too. “I just act as I feel. It’s easy.”

  “Maybe for you.”

  “You’re an introvert,” Vanessa tells me something I already know. My introverted nature isn’t what’s causing me problems. “You guys need to be pushed a little to go after your dreams. You don’t lack ambition; I mean you personally don’t. But, if mom and I didn’t push you to actually go ahead with this audition you would have already quit by now, right?”

  I don’t need to say anything. She is right and she knows it, so I just smile.

  “But it doesn’t matter,” she continues gently. “You just need to be careful. And, I’m here for anything you need. I could still try to get out of work for an hour or so and go with you, if you’d like.”

  There’s nothing more I’d like than having her by my side, to be the keeper of my fear. But I know I can’t ask that of her. She has a serious job and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize it in any way. And besides, what would they think if she told them that she needs to be her adult sister’s keeper for a modeling job interview? It would make me look stupid, on top of incompetent. I need to do this on my own. No matter how difficult or scary it is, I need to do it. Me. Myself. No one else.

  “I appreciate it, but I want to do this alone,” I nod at her, coming to terms with it.

  “I’m proud of you,” she smiles.

  “I haven’t done anything yet,” I chuckle, surprised.

  “The very fact you’re here is enough for me to be proud of you,” she continues and I jump to wrap my arms around her. She returns the gesture.

  I feel better than this morning and I know I’ve got Vanessa to thank for that.

  Chapter 3

  Cathy’s Cupcakes is a small, family owned cafe, where you can buy something to go or you can stay there and enjoy a nibble with a sip of delicious coffee. That’s what I read behind the barista, as he makes me a small latte, using a machine that looks like it could churn out mini robots, instead of just regular coffee.

  As I look around, I see that the place is almost empty. There are two girls sitting at the table by the window and a guy with an overly bushy beard is reading the newspapers in the corner. There is a golden retriever by his feet, lying down obediently. No one seems to mind him and he seems not to mind anyone.

  “Anything else?” the barista asks me, placing a dainty cup before me. It looks chipped, but a second glance assures me that it’s just an aesthetic purpose. Meant to look old, but actually new. I never understood that, but OK.

  “I’ll have a blueberry muffin, please,” I point through the window as I speak and a moment later, I realize how rude that must have looked, pointing like that, so I quickly pull my finger back, like a gun with a loose trigger.

  “Good choice,” he smiles at me and I just nod.

  I pay exactly what he tells me and then, I take notice of the tip jar. I take out some change and try to put it inside, without it making too much noise. The second person in line behind me is already being served as I take my stuff and walk out. They have a little terrace that overlooks the street and I take a seat there. I’m the only one sitting outside. The rest are people who hurry past me, lost in thought and looking somewhere ahead.

  I pour some sugar in my paper cup and check the time. It’s 8:55 a.m. Perfect. At least, they won’t be able to pin lack of punctuality on me, if worse comes to worst. I take a sip and it really is good. I love a cup of good coffee. There’s nothing like it. And, on such a nerve-wracking morning, it is more than welcome.

  “Isabel?” I hear my name being said and a short, but smartly dressed woman approaches me.

  She is wearing a pair of dark blue pants and her blouse is the color of summer peaches. It’s just see-through enough to entice someone’s imagination, but Victorian enough to be buttoned at the neck. It’s a strange combination, but I know it’s popular right now.

  She sits down without being asked to, led by my quick, barely perceptible nod. Sh
e offers me her hand and I see a thick, gold colored watch on her left wrist. Her nails are short and red.

  “I’m Hannah,” she says, even though I know her name. “We spoke on the phone.”

  “Of course,” I nod again, feeling like a bobble-head. I try to remind myself to stop gesturing so much.

  “You look much prettier than your photo,” she continues, eyeing me from top to bottom.

  I immediately blush under her scrutiny, hiding my discomfort behind the sip of coffee I take.

  “Oh and you blush!” she exclaims. “Wonderful!”

  I smile, blushing even more. She turns around, as if she is waiting for someone to appear, then checks her watch. There is no one here, apart from a few people walking in and out of the cafe, paying no attention to us.

  “Listen,” she starts again. “I’m here with two of my colleagues, I was supposed to drop off, but they say they need to go back to our regular office for some documents. Do you mind if we take one round trip, so they could pick up their documents and then we could all go up to the office?”

  She looks at me straight in the eyes as she talks. She is barely blinking and what I hear sounds like a rehearsed speech. She just blurts the whole thing out in one go and I feel like there’s something unnatural about it.

  “Well, if you do mind, you could just stay here and wait, but I don’t think I need to tell you, that wouldn’t really leave a good impression on my colleagues. And, they’re involved in the decision process, so…”

  “Of course not,” I shoot my answer out, like out of a shotgun. One big boom.

  Do I mind? I feel like I do. But I also feel like I’m not supposed to say it. I’m supposed to be a big girl. Big girls adjust to new situations, right? And, this is just a round trip. We’ll be back here in no time, hopefully signing that contract. I mean, what could possibly go wrong?

  She presses her thin lips tightly together and for a second, she reminds me of a hyena about to burst out into wild laughter. But she remains calm and composed. She doesn’t laugh. She just keeps smiling and nodding. Suddenly, she gets up and clumsily pushes my cup to the side of the table and it falls to the ground, spilling out all over the floor.

  “Oh, I’m so clumsy!” she shouts, a little theatrically, bending down to pick it up.

  “It’s OK,” I assure her. I really don’t mind. It was obviously an accident.

  “Let me just grab you a new cup of coffee and we can go,” she tells me, heading back inside, before I could even tell her that I don’t need another cup of coffee. That was more than enough.

  But, a few moments later, Hannah returns, adjusting the plastic lid on the cup.

  “Here,” she offers it to me, without sitting down.

  I stand up and accept the cup. It’s a small latte, just like mine was.

  “Thank you,” I mumble. “But you really didn’t need to get me a new coffee.”

  “Nonsense,” Hannah waves her hand dismissively, signaling that she’s going to end this discussion. “It was the least I could do. Oh, by the way, I put just a little bit of sugar in it. Try it, to see if it’s good.”

  “I’m sure it’s fine,” I nodded, but I can tell from the way she’s looking at me that she’s expecting me to taste it.

  So, I do. It tastes slightly bitter, almost like it’s not coffee from the same place I just got mine. I’m guessing there’s less sugar than I usually put in, but there’s no way in Hell I’m going to say anything. I make that happy, satisfied click of the lips when you try something you like and smile at her.

  “Perfect,” I tell her. “Thank you.”

  “Alright then,” she takes a deep breath, as if she’s preparing for something important. “Let’s go.”

  She starts walking without waiting for me, the sound of her heels clicking against the sidewalk. I rush after her, trying to keep up. Even with her in heels, we’re about the same height. The coffee in my hand is still warm and I try to take another sip. It tastes even more bitter this time.

  “I’m just around the corner,” she tells me, as we turn left.

  She heads over to a black van, with no markings on it. The windows aren’t tinted, but the color itself gives off a dark vibe. A moment later, two guys walk over to us and stand by her side.

  “Isabel, these are Michael and David,” she introduces them.

  The guys just nod, without offering me their hand. I smile a little nervously and Hannah notices.

  “I know it’s a bit unorthodox to rush you around the city like this, but I’m afraid these two would forget their own heads if they weren’t screwed onto their bodies,” she talks, ending her statement with a roar of laughter.

  The two men just smile, but it doesn’t feel like any of us is having fun. Once again, I have that weird sense of something not being right. I take another sip of my coffee, realizing that I’m almost done with it at this point, but my stomach refuses any more of it.

  “You can ride in the back with David,” Hannah continues.

  “Oh,” I start, hoping that she might change her mind and let me ride shotgun.

  “You don’t mind, do you?” Hannah gives me a strange look and I lower my gaze.

  “It’s OK,” I whisper.

  “It’ll be just fifteen minutes there and back, I promise,” Hannah rounds it up and she opens the door to the van.

  “We ride in the back,” David reminds me and I hear a slight accent in his voice.

  It’s not South American. It’s European. Eastern European? With that hard R sound? But, before I could give it any more thought, the back door is already open for me. I swallow heavily, hearing my own heartbeat ring inside my ears. A couple passes us by, chatting cordially to each other, paying no attention to us.

  It’s a beautiful, sunny day. The streets are busy and there isn’t a single dark corner anywhere around us. So, if everything is fine, why are my palms sweating? Why is my heart racing? I don’t have to do this. I know I don’t have to, but somehow, I need to remind myself. I could just thank them for the offer and refuse. I could hail a cab, go back to Vanessa’s place and be on a bus home in less than an hour. I could have dinner with my mother that same evening, telling her that I just changed my mind and that there would be other opportunities out there.

  And, yet, I don’t do any of those things. I look up at the sun. Its rays are warm and welcoming, lulling me into a feeling of safety. After all, don’t all bad things happen in the dark, in a hidden alley somewhere? Bad things don’t happen in broad daylight, with people passing you by, in a busy street.

  With those thoughts in my mind, I take a step inside the van. David comes in immediately after me and closes it with a loud thud. A moment later, I feel we’re moving and a sudden sensation of sleepiness washes over me. I rub my eyes and yawn, despite trying to hide it.

  “Sleepy?” David asks me, smiling, but it’s not a cordial smile. It’s a smile hiding teeth, a smile that waits patiently for something to happen.

  “Not really,” I reply politely, sighing.

  “Why don’t you finish that coffee and we can get rid of the cup?” he tells me, eyeing the cup in my hand.

  I can hear that Eastern European R sound more clearly now. He’s trying hard to hide it, but it peers from behind the curtains, like an understudy for the main actor, hoping to get the lead. You can never truly get rid of that native feeling on your lips. The tongue remembers, even when the brain is working hard to make it forget.

  I obediently do as he tells me. I take the final sip of my coffee and again that sleepiness comes creeping back. My fingers aren’t shaking now. They’re loose. They feel too loose, like they aren’t mine. I feel like my limbs aren’t connected to my body with bones and veins, and cartilage and blood, but by mere thread, that is threatening to tear my whole body apart, limb by limb. I slump backwards into the seat and my head bobs back. I can barely keep my eyes open. My eyelids are drooping down.

  “Are you alright?” David
with an R asks me again.

  “I am, just nauseous I guess,” I try to reply, but my tongue is tied. I can barely speak properly.

  “Is she out?”

  I hear from the front seat. The voice belongs to Hannah. To me, it sounds like she is somewhere far away, shouting loudly so we can hear her. The images of passing trees, cars and houses I see through the window are blurred together in one mesh of colors. There are no shapes any more.

  “Almost,” David informs her, not taking his eyes off of me.

  I swallow heavily, feeling my mouth getting dryer by the minute. I don’t understand what’s happening. Why am I so sleepy? Didn’t I just have a coffee? And, even if I didn’t, I’m not tired. I wasn’t tired five minutes ago. How could I be falling asleep like this?