10

Aspen

I couldn’t get my phone off the charger fast enough. There were two missed calls from unknown numbers and no messages from Papa, but I wasn’t worried about that now. I needed to see this for myself and make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.

Reality was worse than I imagined.

Who did these people think I was?

There were running polls with early voting, allowing viewers to make predictions on the twenty winning Luna contestants. My name hovered near the top next to Edith and another girl named Meghan. Fallon was a few spots down. I quickly counted about fifty Luna contestants, not proud of myself when I smiled noticing Stef’s name in the bottom ten. This was crazy. I knew viewers got to vote on their favorites, but something about the whole thing made me a little sick. Accidently, I clicked on the Alpha profiles, just looking quickly to see the fan favorites. Chad and Ranger were the top Alphas.

And Trenton was number twenty.

Dead last.

It didn’t matter that much though. The males didn’t have to get voted on. Which was a whole other source of aggravation for me. Right up there with the image that drew the focus of my attention.

Ranger’s dark eyes stared out from his profile picture, making my insides twist. He was dangerous. Even from the model photo posted on the page I could tell he wasn’t an Alpha to mess with.

Says you.

I ignored my wolf. She’d been all worked up since this morning. I exited off the Alpha page and scrolled through the message boards at the bottom of the site, looking for the comments that had my name.

“She’s an orphan!” Not really. My father was dead and my biological mom might as well have been since she bolted after my dad bit the dust. But my papa was still alive so that didn’t leave me completely alone in the world.

“Did you see her face when they tried to take her grandma’s trunk? #waterworks.”

“Quirky, but cute.”

“Down to earth.”

OreoOllie: “They wouldn’t let her talk to me, but she was so nice and pretty!”

User89764: “Jealous you got to meet her!”

This was getting blown out of proportion. There was a really good side-profile picture of me posted on the feeds, but I looked nothing like that. And I had like two whole seconds where I barely spoke in front of the reporters while I was struggling to keep my wolf in check. These people didn’t know me at all.

“My cousin says she teaches the GED program to the inmates at…”

The incoming call blocked out my doom scroll and I hit answer on accident, trying to make it go away.

“An inmate from Holton Penitentiary is calling. Do you accept charges from: You better answer?”

“I accept.” I pressed the phone to my ear and flopped down on my bed, waiting for the line to connect.

“What the hell? I tried calling you earlier,” Clara said.

“I know. My phone was dead and I had to charge it.” Maybe I should have left it that way. Ignorance was bliss, right?

Or something like that.

“So… are we going to talk about the fact that you’re apparently famous now. Joey’s cousin, the horse shifter guy who got released last year, came by for visitation and let us know you were all over the internet. Want to tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t know what’s going on,” I cried, knowing how fast rumors spread around the prison. It wasn’t like the inmates had anything better to do than talk. I could never show my face there again.

Which wasn’t a bad thing.

But still…

“Okay. Calm down.” Clara laughed. “Which reporter did you sleep with?”

“Why are you the second person to ask me that?”

“Because it’s plausible.” She paused for a breath. “Wait, who was the first?”

“It doesn’t matter.” I put her on speaker and continued scrolling.

“I think it does. Didn’t you listen to me the other day? You can’t make enemies if you keep your head down. That’s like prison rules 101.”

“I’m not in prison!” This was a resort in the mountains for Goddess’ sake. “And literally all I’ve done since I got here was sign some forms and eat breakfast. I didn’t do anything.”

“What did you have for breakfast?”

My mind instantly conjured an image of Ranger with his dark eyes and growly voice that sent waves of heat flushing my skin. It was too hot in here.

I looked around for the thermostat. “Bacon and sausage and French toast.”

“Keep talking dirty to me,” Clara panted. “Was there powdered sugar? Real maple syrup?”

“Why are we talking about syrup?”

“Sorry.” She laughed. “But this is even better than reality TV. I get to live vicariously through you. How much can you tell me about the show?”

“Not much.” I thought back over the contracts I signed. If Fallon and Edith were right, I wouldn’t even be able to watch the show when the rest of the world did. I wasn’t sure if that was better or worse. “Are they letting you guys see it?”

“Bishop is already trying to work his magic.” Clara muffled the phone as she spoke to someone. She was probably holding up the line. “They’re saying you are gunning for the sweetheart position this season.”

“I’m not trying to get any position,” I explained. “And I am most definitely not sweet.”

“You are kind of sweet though.” Clara was two seconds away from losing my only real friend privilege. “But you know what I’m sick of?”

“Orange jumpsuits and white bread?” I guessed.

“That and the whole women have to be either sweet or tough idea. Why can’t females be both? There is a middle ground. You can bake cookies with arsenic in them. Knit cozy blankets and also stab someone in the eye with your needle,” Clara said in all her infinite wisdom. “You, my friend, are a prim little miss and a badass bitch.”

“I think there was a compliment in there so thank you, but I’m a wolf. Being sweet would get me killed.” I shouldn’t have to lay this out for her. She was the one with a criminal record.

The front door to the hotel room swung open. Great. I definitely didn’t want to deal with Stef right now.

I took the phone off speaker and pressed it to my ear. “I’ve got to go do this makeup thing.”

“Fine.” Clara sighed. “Hannah needs to call her lawyer anyway. But listen, don’t piss anyone off yet. I’ll see what I can do to help you from here.”

“What exactly are you going to do from jail? You know what? I don’t want to know.”

“You probably don’t.” She giggled. “Keep your phone on you this time. You know how hard it is to get a call out. And don’t sleep with any more reporters.”

“I didn’t s–”

The line went dead.

Instead of throwing the phone across the room like I wanted to, I tucked it in my back pocket.

This was fine. It was all a big misunderstanding. I wasn’t worth the attention. The truth would come out eventually and the media would be disappointed. They’d move onto shinier and flashier things soon. And maybe this was a good thing. I needed the public support to pass the Luna Trials, right?

Everything would work out in the end.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Stef sat perched on the edge of the sofa, smiling weird. “Ready to go?”

“Go where?” I asked slowly, waiting for the punchline.

“To makeup and hair, silly.” She stood, smiling bigger as she held out her arm. “I figured we should walk there together.”

This just became my worst nightmare.

*

I sat down on the hard plastic chair in front of the mirror that had my name tag under the bulb lights attached to the top.

“I want to sit next to my packmate,” Stef said as she changed out the name of a girl–Keshia–with hers on the vanity table next to mine. That earned her a glare and I tried to smile at Keshia as she walked away, hoping she wouldn’t hate us both.

“Packmate?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Of course.” Stef sat down and stared at herself in the mirror.

“I’m assuming this has something to do with the social media stuff,” I added through our mental pack link as the line of women filed into the room looking for their name tags.

“Social media stuff?” She fluffed her blond hair.

“Never mind.” I growled.

“Ladies, please take your seats.” Molly came marching in, clipboard in hand. “The stylists are on their way.”

There was a flurry of chairs squeaking and little squeals of delight as everyone rushed to their chairs. Stef’s excitement was palpable. Their energy made me nervous. I silently scolded myself. It was only makeup and hair. How bad could this be?

A toolbelt of various sprays and brushes landed on the vanity table as big hands gripped my chair, tilting me backwards so I was staring up into the strange yellow ringed green eyes of a man.

My wolf sneezed, growling softly in warning.

“You’re a cat,” I whispered.

“No. I’m a cheetah.”

The chair spun around and he assessed me from head to toe. I tried to remain confident with my best “I’ve got this” face as I looked him over too. He was handsome with sideswept golden hair and the clearest skin I’d ever seen on a shifter or human, wearing stylish Vans and dark washed jeans that fit to his lean muscular frame. The whole look screamed “edgy” in a way that let me know I definitely didn’t belong in this place.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fix you up.” The cheetah shifter winked.

The chair spun again, turning me back to face the mirror. I was seriously getting dizzy.

“My name’s Jesse.” He clipped his toolbelt onto his waist. “And you’re Aspen. I’ve seen the gossip. We’re going to play off that. I’m thinking fringe layers to frame your face. Really accentuate the natural beauty look.”

“Natural beauty?” My nose scrunched as I looked at myself in the mirror.

“Mmm-hmm.” Jesse nodded, twisting a strand of my hair toward the lightbulb and showing off the faint gold strands mixed in with the brown. “I love your highlights. Where’d you get them?”

“Highlights?” I stared at the color. “Um, the sun?”

My hair usually got lighter the more time I spent outside. But spring was just starting so it was still mostly brown.

“The Sun? That’s a fun name for a salon.” He pulled out a water bottle and started misting my hair.

“No.” I laughed. “Like the actual sun in the sky.”

“So natural, natural then. I love it. Let’s cut it off.” He brandished a pair of scissors, snapping them in the air. My wolf started growling and I closed my eyes, nodding.

It’s just a haircut. We’ll be okay.

*

“There.” Jesse took a step back, wiping the sweat from his brow.

I blinked, taking in the light blush to my cheeks and the softness of my hair as it fell around my shoulders. He left most of the length, but my head felt lighter and the makeup wasn’t too heavy. I still looked like myself. Just… enhanced. Glowing.

“What do you think?” Jesse spritzed a fine mist over me that drifted like glitter in my reflection.

“I feel really pretty.” I couldn’t help but smile as I gave my locks a little shake.

“You need to make my eyes darker.” Stef was snapping at the stylist next to me. I’d completely tuned her and the rest of the room out while Jesse was working his magic hands.

He tickled the tip of my nose with a soft brush, drawing my attention back to him as he rolled his eyes at Stef. “It’s easy to work with a model who is naturally pretty and isn’t a prima donna.”

I chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you don’t hate me. Thank you for doing this.”

“Of course, sweetie. It’s my job.” He started packing his supplies back into his toolbelt. “Do you know what you’re going to wear for the interview?”

“I was thinking pants and a nice shirt.” I glanced up at him, testing his reaction. Somehow in the last hour he’d become my fashion guru.

Jesse gripped the hairspray tightly in his hand. “A nice shirt?”

“I brought my nicest flannel button down.” Saying that out loud sounded worse than it did in my head.

He slid the hairspray into his toolbelt with a frustrated hiss. “Let’s go.”

“Where?” I cried out as he yanked on my arm. A few of the stylists jumped at my outburst.

Jesse paid them no attention as he started clapping, going full drill sergeant on my ass. “Hurry up. We have two hours before the interviews start and I need to see what we’re working with.”

*

“Honey. No.” Jesse looked ready to cry.

I was close to tears too as I stared at the outfits laid out on my hotel room bed. “Seriously. What is wrong with my clothes?”

“They’re not bad.” He was a terrible liar. “But if you want to make a good impression, these are not it.”

“What if I don’t care about making an impression?” I was still reeling from the earlier shock of seeing my name so high in the polls.

“Too late for that.” Jesse pulled out his phone and started swiping. “You’re building a fan base. We have to give the people what they want.”

“Do we really have to do that?” I cringed away from the predatory look in his yellow-green eyes.

“You want sponsors, right?”

Huh?Both my wolf and I cocked our heads to the side. “Sponsors?”

“No.” Jesse froze as his gaze darted around the room. A struggle played across his face and he seemed to come to some sort of resolution as he turned his sad smile back to me. “You poor little pup. They were going to feed you to the wolves.”

“I’m not little.” I straightened my shoulders, hating the pity in his voice. He wasn’t that much bigger. I could probably take him if I had to though I’d never fought a cat before.

Jesse laughed and petted the top of my head. He was only a few inches taller than me. “You’re cute. Come on. We’re running out of time.”

*

“What is this place?”

Jesse flicked on the fluorescent lights that lined the basement level storage room. Rows of plastic bags hung on metal racks stretching from wall to wall.

“Top secret show inventory,” he said in a mysterious tone.

“Seriously?”

“No.” He laughed. “It’s mostly donations and some last season cast-offs from sponsors. But we can find you something that will work. What size are you?”

“Six to eight on the bottom depending on pants and a medium up top.” My wolf stirred in my mind, sniffing around a bit. I wasn’t too prideful to accept the help though. Especially not if it got people to stop complaining about my clothes.

“Why are you helping me?” I raced after Jesse who moved crazy fast through the rows. “I mean, thank you, but you don’t have to do this.”

“Please, and let my hair and makeup go to waste.” He squinted, scrutinizing me as he held up a bag.

“Fair enough.” I nodded. I’d hate for my work to be unappreciated too.

“I’m screwing with you.” He tossed me the bag. “I know what it’s like to come from a small town and stumble into the big city. There’s no need for both of us to live the alley cat life.”

I wanted to know more, but I also didn’t want to press him. It was awfully nice for him to care.

He grabbed two more bags off the hangers. “You still have time to try these on. But if you mess up your hair, our situation-ship is officially on the rocks.”

“Noted.” I smiled just as the basement door swung open.

Jesse’s eyes narrowed at the human woman who came walking in on six-inch stiletto heels and curls piled higher than that on her head. Behind her was a female wolf shifter with long black hair and big doll-like eyes who blinked nervously in the fluorescent light.

I stood up taller, wanting to introduce myself and ask the other Luna candidate what her name was. Since we were both in the secret basement handout section, I figured we would get along. But Jesse was much stronger than he looked, dragging me out while the she-wolf avoided my gaze.

“What was that about?” I asked as the door slammed shut behind us.

“She’s with Genie,” Jesse said.

“And?”

“And my sweet pup, you have much to learn about this world. Starting with, don’t mess with another stylist’s pick.”

*

I looked like a totally different person wearing the Dior pencil skirt and sweetheart silk blouse that came down to my elbows and tapered at the waist. Jesse had pulled some low pump heels out of Goddess knew where which I could actually walk in.

With my new hair and makeup, I felt like I might have a shot at this. I was full of unearned confidence as I walked into the lineup for the interview just as Molly called my name.

I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

Fallon came from the other room dressed in head-to-toe black that fit her curves and left nothing to the imagination. She looked like sex on heels. Even my jaw dropped as she tore off the cord to her microphone and her long black hair swept over her shoulder like some gothic shampoo model.

Fallon’s eyes met mine and she gave me a sympathetic smile. “Good luck in there.”

Luck?

Wait.

Why do I need luck?