3. Charlotte

Charlotte

“Ms Bailey, thank you for coming so promptly,” the president said, everyone turning to look at her.

Gracefully she gave a simple head bow, not willing to concede dominance just yet, despite the vast difference in their status which honestly rendered the point moot. Several of the shifter leaders frowned in disapproval, but others smiled. Only a few remained neutral, and most of them were avian leaders, so it made sense. They were proud of her for not caving, but not wanting to appear to have favoritism. Well, at least that’s how she was choosing to interpret it.

“I’m a simple speech-writer, sir,” she replied carefully. “I’m not sure how much assistance I can be, but I will do what I can.”

That, at least, reduced some of the frowns. She had declared a generic willingness to help, without any display of arrogance or aggression, only confirming she was neutral and not willing to submit just yet.

The people inside weren’t the only surprise. The room itself was far more informal than she could have imagined. This couldn’t possibly be the conference room, or some official place where the business of governing was done. No, while large and beautifully appointed, the space was far too informal.

Large, overstuffed lounges in varying yet complimentary patterned fabrics, were scattered around the place. Snuggled beside them were small side tables of varying sizes and shapes, an eclectic collection of practical furnishings, allowing whoever was seated to have easy access to a stable surface for their food or beverage — both of which were available buffet-style off to her right.

Five large, arched windows spanned the wall across from her, bringing a sense of light and space to the room. Embraced either side with heavy, mustard-coloured drapes, and held back with black sashes embossed with a fleur-de-lis pattern, they formed the perfect backdrop to the people sitting and standing before them. It almost looked like they were posing for a portrait.

Several armchairs completed the furnishings, each accompanied by their own squat little table, the final touches being tall indoor palm trees in each corner. The room was a statement piece, yet clearly a place for more informal meetings, designed to impress, but not discomfort any guest.

“If you would all excuse me for a few moments, I need a quiet word with Ms Bailey before we begin,” the president announced, stepping towards a smaller doorway on her left that she hadn’t noticed.

He opened the door, courteously holding it for her and gesturing for Charlotte to precede him. Unable to deny his unspoken request, and seeing no reason to do so, she stepped through into what could only be considered a private study.

The furnishings in here were more suited to a library. The room was dotted with several tub chairs made of dark timber, with leather studded across the backs and smoothed across the seat. Dominating the space was a large wooden desk, again dark, covered in books and papers, as though the owner had only just stood up to leave the room. The walls were floor to ceiling bookcases, filled to the brim with leather-bound texts. The few she could read easily were tomes of law. Some shelves had human law, the others were for different shifter species. Overall, it gave the impression of a quiet place where a lot of work was done.

Rather than sitting behind what was clearly his desk, the president moved over to a pair of tub chairs off to one side, turning them to face each other in a more intimate setting.

“Please forgive me for not offering refreshment. I will do so once we return to the other room. This should not take long, I hope.”

Charlotte nodded, sitting at the edge of her seat and waiting for him to begin. The lion shifter watched her for a moment, before his shoulders sagged as he slouched back into his own seat.

“Ms Bailey, before we begin, I wish you to know that there are no listening or recording devices here. This room is my private sanctum, and few of the people in the next room have ever seen inside it. That alone may cause you some difficulty over the next few months if you accept the proposal I am about to put forth.”

Well, that didn’t tell her much at all. Still, she took it as a reassurance that she was safe — at least for now — and sat further back in her chair, relaxing a little. His smile, when he saw it, was wan.

“What I am about to tell you is highly confidential, and I have the permission of the people involved to share it with you. I ask that you treat this matter as a treasured secret, regardless of your feelings for them. It may, I hope, ameliorate some of the stress you are facing right now. I need your word that you will not share this anywhere else without my express permission.”

State secrets? Was that what he was about to share with her? Charlotte wasn’t sure she should hear this, but the president wasn’t a stupid man, which meant whatever he needed her for, she needed to know this information and keep it a secret.

“This is an unusual situation, but given the circumstances, I’m willing to give my promise before knowing what I’m about to agree to.”

The president nodded, then sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“As you know in our world, the knowledge that some of us have fated mates is both a blessing and a curse. That our perfect match is out there waiting for us inhibits many from forming permanent bonds, while others forge ahead with their lives in defiance of it, unwilling to have their choice taken from them,” he began, tawny eyes meeting her own gaze with a directness she found refreshing.

The president had found his fated mate? Was that what he was trying to tell her? How was this a bad thing? Because of his posture and tone, she knew the news would not be good.

“Approximately five years ago, Grace Diaz found her fated mate, a wolf shifter of no consequence except for the fact he completely rejected their connection.”

To say Charlotte was surprised was putting it mildly. Grace had been rejected by her fated mate? It was the nightmare of all shifters, second to that was their own chosen mate finding their fated mate instead. It certainly explained why her former boss had never entered a serious relationship, despite her high status and the adoration of many in the shifter world. Grace had certainly had several offers in Charlotte’s hearing, and she’d only worked with the woman for eight months!

“That makes some things about her clearer,” Charlotte replied. While she felt for the woman, it certainly didn’t excuse her behaviour.

The president nodded. “Nine months ago, the wolf in question mated with another wolf. If you followed Grace’s career back then, you would have seen a marked shift in her levels of aggression and her disregard for protocol. I had several meetings with her, trying to encourage her to either step down or seek counselling. However, when that blow-up happened with your predecessor, I put my foot down. I ordered her to find a suitable assistant, one capable of holding her in check, or to hand in her resignation. Her answer to that ultimatum was to hire you.”

He paused, watching her reaction as Charlotte processed what he said. Had Grace really thought Charlotte could hold her in check? Or was it more about appeasing the president and finding a candidate he thought would smooth things over? Either way, if she’d known all of this prior to applying for the job, she probably wouldn’t have accepted it. This certainly put a new light on all of their interactions, especially their last one, where Grace pushed her for an emotional response.

“If you’re asking me to withdraw my resignation, sir, I can’t,” Charlotte told him carefully. “Especially knowing this now. I can’t be her punching bag, Mr. President. That’s not fair to me, nor to her.”

Golden eyes watched her, cataloguing her every movement, and Charlotte found herself becoming angry. He was observing her as one did prey, and she resented the implication. Could a lion eat an owl? Probably. However, first he’d have to catch her, and if he thought she wouldn’t put up a fight, he was sorely mistaken. Her owl ruffled its feathers, as agitated as she was.

“Please, hear me out,” he asked, waiting until she nodded. “For as long as I’ve known, I’ve kept tabs on the situation, so while disappointed, I wasn’t exactly surprised when she went off the rails today.”

If he had known this was coming, a heads up would have been nice. Whatever he was about to say, it had better be something radical, because Charlotte was ready to walk out of the room and tell him where to stuff his proposition, whatever it was. Knowing trouble was coming and not warning her? That was a dick move!

“Yesterday, Grace’s fated mate and his wife announced to the world they were expecting twins,” he said sadly.

Okay, yes, that would push most people past their limits, but it was still something he could have warned her about.

“This morning, after you hung up on me, I tried to call Grace again,” he paused, chuckling ruefully. “I cannot tell you how astonishing it is to have not one, but two subordinates not only hang up on me, but refuse my calls. Grace’s statement, before she hung up, was no less startling than your own.”

Charlotte wanted to scream at him to get on with it, so she could get up and storm out of the place, but once again the man hesitated to speak. Was he afraid of her reaction? Or of what he was about to say? The indecision on the president’s face was clear, but she had no idea of what was holding him back.

“Sir, if you can’t trust me with this, then I need to leave. Not only does it show this is not the place for me, but you’ve given me no good reason to even consider whatever it is you’re going to ask of me. I’m still incredibly annoyed with Grace, and while I feel sorry for her, none of this is an excuse for her disrespect towards not only myself, but her position, and all of her constituents.”

He nodded, sitting upright again. “You’re right, I just need to spit it out. It’s just—” he shook his head. “Grace answered the phone, panting, and grunting. At first I thought she was under attack, and I was ready to call in extra protection for her. ‘Leonard,’ she said, ‘your timing sucks. Then again, so does mine. Something came up, and my wolf has lost it. I’m in heat, and there’s nothing I can do for the next three weeks. You’re on your own, my friend.’ Then she hung up on me, but not before I heard a male growl, asking her who the fuck she was talking to while he was the one fucking her brains out. While another male grumbled that they’d better hurry up because it was his turn again.”

Grace was in heat? And she spoke to him while someone else was?—?

Why was this startling news that Grace Diaz spoke to the president, who could clearly hear what was going on, all while she was having sex? Then, to top it off, she had not one, but two males, helping her through it?

The president leaned forward again, reaching towards her face, as a bug-eyed Charlotte watched him, while he used the tip of one finger to push her jaw closed.

It was the final straw. As her frantic brain processed all the raw data she’d absorbed that day, Charlotte exploded out of her chair and paced across the room.

They won the court case. Grace fucked the speech. Charlotte quit her job. The president begged for her help. Grace was in heat — which certainly explained her increased aggression and need to grandstand, even if it was inappropriately. Charlotte had a private meeting with the president in a room most people would give their eye teeth to be invited to — and he was right, it would bite her in the arse. Grace spoke to the president while fucking two males. And the president? He reached out and touched her face intimately — proving she was gaping at him in shock, without even realising it. If that wasn’t a breach of protocol, she didn’t know what was.

“Charlotte?” he murmured, not rising from his chair. “I hope you don’t mind me calling you that just now and I also want you to call me Leonard, just while we're in this room. I think with the conversation we’re having, formality is an unnecessary impediment.”

An unnecessary what now? He wanted to talk about protocol and propriety when her head was just exploding with too much of everything? Her brain was melting. Everything was wrong. This was just too much. Charlotte could roll with the punches, but this wasn’t a fair fight. This was being ganged up on. Everything was coming at once.

“Charlotte?”

“I just need a fucking minute!” she snapped at him. “It’s been a day, you know?”

He sighed, nodding and leaning back in his chair again, golden eyes watching her as she paced back and forth across the room.

Alright, so she was still jobless, although by the sounds of things, the president wanted her to work with whoever was going to fill in for Grace for the next few weeks. She could understand that. If that was the case, she wanted input into who it would be, or maybe that was too much to ask. Yes, that was getting above herself. She did, however, need to know who it was before she agreed to be their aide. There was no way she was going to jump out of the frying pan and into the fire.

As for Grace? Well, the rush of hormones preceding a heat would certainly make her unstable, both mentally and emotionally. Perhaps they could mend their fences, but the woman would have to put some actual effort into it, and Charlotte intended to be more proactive in her role.

Which told her she would give the job one more chance. Fine. Yes. She could do that. The next time she paced back in that direction, Charlotte would sit calmly and face the president, hearing out his proposal, and then she would accept her old job back — with some provisos, of course.

Except, it didn’t add up.

Why would he invite her into a private meeting, in a privileged location no less, just to tell her they needed her at least for a transition, if not to ask her one more time to withdraw her resignation? An aide should have handled this, although perhaps it was because of the confidentiality of Grace’s situation. Yes, that made more sense. He was protecting someone he respected, sticking his neck out for her even, which was admirable. Charlotte was simply the tool he was going to use to do it.

Too late, Charlotte realised she’d already turned again, walking away from the president. Rather than appearing indecisive, she continued her previous path, turning gracefully and heading back to her chair. She took those few extra moments to calm herself, connecting with her owl and reassuring it. Yes, they were both overwhelmed with information, but now that she’d processed it, catalogued it, and neatly compartmentalised things, they could move on. It was time for the next step, and Charlotte intended to take it with poise and confidence.

“Obviously, you can’t leave the position vacant for three weeks,” Charlotte said. “You also need someone with the institutional knowledge to oversee the transition period until Grace returns, which I assume is me.”

The president nodded, relaxing a little, although his gaze still tracked her every movement. He needed to stop doing that, especially when she was already riled up. A cat like him only watched a bird like her for two reasons — to fight, or to fuck. As she had no intention of humouring him in either, his predatory gaze annoyed her. Something she couldn’t afford to indulge under the circumstances. It was just one more irritation on a day that she truly wished was over already.

“May I ask who you have in mind to take on Grace’s job? I’m not aware of the protocols for a situation like this, but I gather the pool of suitable candidates is rather small.”

He looked at her in confusion. “You,” was all he said.

Her?

The president wanted Charlotte to be the acting shifter representative to the human government — an elected position no less — and he wanted her to fill it.

Her.

HER!

Charlotte saw the ground rushing toward her, but her mind blanked out before she met it.