Wolves Page 2

  Her cell phone rang loudly, singing at her as she scrambled for it in the pile of clothes and items on her bed and she glanced at the screen. “Yeah,”

  “Tay!” Came the cheerful greeting on the other end of the line. “I need you.” Hillary Mason said down the line at her. Tatum sighed, Hillary was almost always, eternally cheerful. She had no idea how she did it. It probably had something to do with not being a lycan, Tatum mused silently. Since being turned Tatum often felt like her life had turned to shit as a result of the attack. But she still had a friend, Hillary and she was starting up her own party planning business.

  “Sorry, now’s really not a good time. Might not be for awhile yet.” She said throwing things one handed into her duffle bag as she spoke into the phone.

  “Why? You leaving town? Don’t say you’re leaving town.” Hillary begged.

  “I’m leaving town. Time to move on.” Tatum replied back quickly.

  “When? Why? What about that bar job at Icon I got you?”

  “They fired me.”

  “What? Why? Look it doesn’t matter, you’re reasons are your own. I just need you for a few short hours, tomorrow night. That’s all. From seven to midnight.”

  “I’m sorry H, I can’t, I was hoping to be gone by tomorrow morning, I’ve just got to check bus schedules.” Tatum replied searching around her room for her laptop.

  “Trust me Tay, do this one last job for me, as a favor and you’ll be able to fly out of town. The pay is incredibly good, and I’m short staffed and need an experienced bar tender to cater to a high-society crowd. It’s dead easy, you serve them some top shelf liquor for a few hours, and you earn a mint.”

  “And what do you get out of this?” Tatum asked suspiciously.

  “Well I cover my ass and my reputation doesn’t get tarnished before it’s even begun on the Manhattan party circuit. If I get this party right tomorrow night, I’ll be set, the word of mouth from advertising my event planning services from this could set me up for next season.”

  “What’s the rate of pay?” Tatum asked intrigued. It wasn’t like she’d managed to save all that much money yet from her bar work, tips weren’t as lucrative as she’d hoped. She listened as Hillary told her.

  “Plus you can keep whatever tips they give you.” Tatum let out a low whistle and stopped packing. “And I’ll pay you cash at the end of the night if you like. Please, I just really need this one.”

  Tatum sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed and thought about the angry pack wolf from Icon. Who the hell did he think he was to make her feel like this? To feel like she had to run. Damn it. “Okay I’ll do it. Give me the details.” Tatum replied. No way was she giving in to another werewolf making her life a misery.

  “Fantastic! Thank you so much, you won’t regret this at all! Uniform is the usual, black pants, or skirt if you can manage it. White dress shirt, full make up, no jewelry. The address is 620 Loft and Garden,” Tatum cradled the phone and wrote down the details as she was told them. “It’s above Rockerfeller center. Ask for me or Wiatt on site.”

  “Who’s Wiatt?” Tatum asked looking at the details she’d written down on the small notepad as she wrote the name Wiatt down and circled it.

  “He’s one of the sons of the host, Marion D’arenberg. He’s the family contact for putting this party together with me. If you can’t find me, when bump in commences, try and find him. He’ll be able to direct you to where you need to be.”

  “Okay. Wiatt D’arenberg. That it?”

  “Dress up. This crowd will eat you alive if you don’t. That’s it, it’s that simple.”

  “Rich people, they’d eat their own if they got bored enough.” Hillary laughed down the line at her. “Alright, black tie dress code, classy, Manhattan style, easy money, see you tomorrow night.”

  “Thanks Tay.”

  4

  Tatum had forgotten all about the werewolf from hell who had had it in for the night before, when she stepped out into the lush green oasis of 620 Loft and Garden. It was a rather spectacular site to behold, sitting on top of the world. Or so it seemed. The sounds of Harry Connick Jnr filled the air as staff went about setting up for the party.

  Either side of the manicured and pretty as a picture garden, was the bright lights of skyscrapers around her. And the rather ornate church spires and windows of the neo gothic St Patrick’s cathedral made the view on the rooftop show stopping stunning. It was by far the most upscale and impressive place Tatum had ever worked serving drinks before.

  Workers were carrying in tall potted plants and trees to complete the feeling of intimacy on the rooftop garden. Tatum looked about herself and couldn’t help but smile, what a different world it was to be up there. She walked towards the white marquee that was being set up down the far end of the garden. It looked like the logical spot for the bar to be set up, or the food, which was as good a place as any to find someone to report in to.

  She froze on the spot when she saw him. Again. The werewolf from the night before. The guy at Icon who had seemed hell bent on reminding her how lowly she was because she was a lycan. She watched as he walked towards her quickly, his eyes wide. How the hell had he found her there? What should she do? She couldn’t afford a confrontation with him like the one she’d had the night before that had lost her, the one steady job she’d had since the attack.

  Tatum looked around herself quickly. A feeling of panic creeping up into her. “Wait right there.” He called out to her striding faster towards her. Tatum sighed and stood where she was. She didn’t know what to do other than wait it out and see what this guy’s problem with her, working as it appeared, was. “You.” He said walking up to her and eyeing her over again.

  Wiatt looked over her chosen black and white uniform. She was wearing ankle black cowgirl boots with a hint of white frilly sock at the top. A black pleated skirt and a short sleeved white shirt with a long, thin, black leather tie down the front. Her hair was tied back into a retro styled, pony tail. Wiatt’s mind went to the word, school girl. She looked like a lusciously naughty school girl, tonight. The night before at Icon, she’d been all luscious, corporate, hard ass.

  “And you.” Tatum replied, unable to stop herself. “Look, I don’t know what you’re doing here, how you found me, but I am here to work, I have a job to do. So you need to just let me do it.” Wiatt’s eyebrow shot up as he put his hands in his pants pockets.

  “Do I? You’re working here, tonight, tending bar?” He asked her.

  “Yes. I need to find either Hillary or Wiatt, I don’t suppose you know where I could find them, do you?” She asked him ignoring how nervous he made her feel. He broke into a large smile at her. She wondered if he was going to eat her up. He looked smug and handsome at the same time, a devastatingly horny combination to her seriously lacking sexual needs.

  “I’m Wiatt. Wiatt D’arenberg.” He said holding out his hand to her suddenly. Tatum’s mouth dropped open and she looked at his hand and back up at his face.

  “Are you kidding me?” She muttered softly, looking back at his hand. He looked at her and lifted his hand to her. Tatum reached forward and shook it. He had a warm, strong, firm hand. And he was wearing the watch. The one she’d spilt scotch on the night before, the one he’d yelled at her about.

  “You’re watch,” She said looking at it.

  “Is fine. I got it cleaned up. I might have been a bit over the top about that last night” Wiatt asked still shaking her hand as he kept eye contact with her. Her skin was soft and warm.

  “You think?” Tatum uttered sarcastically.

  Wiatt chuckled “Other than the lycan who made me run after her last night, and gave me the slip, I presume you have a name. Or shall I just keep calling you lycan?”

  Tatum’s eyes dropped down and she let go of his hand instantly. “I hate that word.” She looked back up at him defiantly, her jaw set hard, her whole demeanor hard. “I’m Tatum and I need this job, so please, just let me do my job and I’ll stay out of
your way if you stay out of mine.”

  “Well Tatum, I believe we may have a problem.” Wiatt said putting his hand back in his pants pocket.

  “What? I haven’t done anything, if there’s a problem it’s with you and your attitude towards me.” Tatum fired off suddenly unhappy with him again. Shock filtered across Wiatt’s face. He wasn’t used to being spoken to like this from a female. Normally they fawned over him and said whatever he wanted to hear.

  “Not afraid to speak you’re mind. Normally I’d admire that in someone, but you’re at a werewolf party for the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack leader tonight and as such, I need to know that you can keep that attitude of yours in check. I don’t want any problems here tonight, it’s an important night for my brother otherwise there’s no point you working here tonight.”

  Tatum shifted her weight to one foot and crossed her arms over her chest. What was with this guy? Just who the hell did he think he was, pushing her buttons? For no good reason either! “What is it about you, you just like this all the time or you like aggravating the hired help? Is that it?”

  “Tatum, I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but here in Manhattan, lycans are not wanted or well received. Whilst this event tonight isn’t a pack party, it will be predominately filled with werewolves, a lot of them from both Manhattan and Brooklyn and a few from other places. I need to know you won’t go starting any fights with my guests. Especially if they try to antagonize you into one. Which given how newly lycan you smell, is in a likelihood, bound to happen. That is the only way you will keep your job to work here tonight.”

  “Unbelievable.” She muttered to herself, looking up at him.

  “Well?” Wiatt asked her. “Do we have an understanding?”

  “Sure, we do. The lycan works the bar then collects her pay check and leaves Manhattan, is that about right Mr big shot?”

  “If she leaves Manhattan without a fight, or trying anything on me. She might even get a bonus.” Wiatt replied back at Tatum in clipped tones.

  “Great.” Tatum uttered sarcastically.

  “Then yes, you can keep this job.”

  “Just as well, since you owe me for making me lose my job last night.” Tatum fired off a parting shot as Hillary came into view and waved her over. Wiatt D’arenberg laughed and followed behind her and waited as she set up the rooftop bar for the party.

  5

  She eyed him as he leaned on the bar top. “Let’s get one thing straight, I don’t need you’re charity.” Tatum said back at the smug face of Wiatt D’arenberg. He had the good grace to look surprised. “I realise you think you’re above my standing in this high society. In werewolf society.”

  “The way I see it, you do.” Wiatt replied holding eye contact with her deliberately. Tatum sighed and brushed her hair back off her face. She knew, some small part of her knew, she would regret asking him why, but she was going to do it anyway.

  “How do you figure?” She asked bracing both hands on the bar bench top.

  Wiatt smiled back at her. Her attitude was up, and damn if that just didn’t add to the attraction of her. “Well, as you so pointedly said the other night, I lost you your job. Therefore, it’s my responsibility to get you another job.” He said picking up his drink off the bar bench top. Tatum drummed her fingers on the bench top. “So here you are, here we are and now I do believe, that I’ve helped you keep this job, we’re even.” She watched him pick up his drink and sip from it, eyeing her the entire time.

  “Life must be just perfect from where you sit.” She muttered relaxing her arms and pushing off the bench top. “I’m not a god damn charity chase. I can handle myself just fine without the so called help of the D’arenberg name to my cause.”

  “You have a funny way of saying thanks.” Wiatt replied putting his drink back down.

  “Typical werewolf, arrogant.” Tatum muttered walking away from him and moving towards another guest who had walked up to the bar. Wiatt waited until she had served the other male and he had walked away from the make shift bar area, leaving them alone again.

  “And what would you know about werewolves Tatum? After all, you were about to lose this job. Again.” Wiatt pointed out to her. “A lycan walking into a werewolf dominated party for a highly respected and powerful pack full of players?”

  “For being a lycan.” Tatum fired back at him. “Hired to work bar at a god damn high society werewolf party. You’re party. If you didn’t want lycans on staff, you should have told the recruitment company who hired me that, not waited for me to show up.”

  Wiatt looked over at Tatum. “One, it’s not my party, my mother is throwing this. For my sister in-law to be, two; I don’t think it ever occurred to her to have to consider whether lycans would be on staff or not. We’ve never had a problem with it before, when having staff at these events.”

  “So now I’m a problem? Because I’m a lycan?” Tatum shook her head. “You know, I don’t need this job that badly that I have to put up with listening to you.” She walked off down the other end of the bar. Wiatt stood up and followed her movement from the other side of the bar.

  “I didn’t mean to offend you, I just meant…”

  Tatum stared at him in disbelief. “Didn’t mean to offend me? Let’s see, so far since being in the same part of the universe as you Wiatt D’arenberg, you’ve lost me my bar job at Icon, Now you’ve taken to putting me down, to my face by using my race of wolf against me because it doesn’t meet with your lofty, werewolf standards.”

  Wiatt stood staring back at the infuriating female before him. He leaned across the bar top towards her. “You talk too much, bar keep.” He smirked before walking off back into the party’s goings on, leaving Tatum watching him through narrow eyes from behind the bar.

  Wiatt walked back into the throng of the party looking for a familiar face, one of the boys, anyone to distract him from the lycan behind the bar who was making his skin very hot and is body, unwittingly hard.

  He’d been around plenty of women with attitudes before. That seemed to be his type. The ones he truly attracted. Why the hell else would he have embarked on a sexual affair with Gabby Colton for nearly six months last year? Gabby was a god damn man eater and ball breaker and a fine piece of ass to pass the time with too. She was an alpha female wolf in the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack and sometimes when he looked at her, his cock still ached for a ball breaking hard fuck when he was hard up for it.

  Attitude with highly sexual appetites, the wolf females seemed to be the combination that always called out to him and he went to them, without question. Of course, they never lasted. They were never meant to and Wiatt didn’t really mourn the loss of them, because there were plenty of female werewolves to keep him company in his bed.

  But he’d never come across a lycan female before and he’d never been involved with one, and now, here he was for the second night in a row, sharing the same space as a very attractive one. Where was his head at? The same place his cock was, it kept pointing to the brunette lycan, called Tatum. He wanted her and now, she was all he could damn well focus on. Ah the fun of werewolf biology, it consumed you when you didn’t control it.

  It probably didn’t help that the D’arenberg males were well known for being sexually aggressive and active wolves. Though he supposed, weren’t most werewolf males in general? His family name did have a somewhat sexual reputation associated with it, probably because he and his older brother Paris, had earned they’re way to that reputation through the Manhattan Maen werewolf pack females.

  Of course, Paris had calmed down somewhat since hooking up with a Breukelen werewolf female who’d done more than capture his attention.

  “Hey man,” Addison Harrington a fellow alpha Manhattan Maen werewolf said walking up to Wiatt. He was dressed in a suit and looked sharp. As was required dress code and expectation of the Manhattan Maen pack wolves who were attending tonight’s event.

  “Hey,”

  “Saw you getting chatty with the bar
staff.” He asked half turning and eyeing Tatum as she stood behind the bar, waiting for customers.

  Wiatt looked from her back to his friend. “Isn’t you’re plate already full?” He threw back at Addison. Addison Harrington was like Wiatt in that he was rarely if ever alone for very long when it came to sexual needs being for filled. They were both as bad as one another. “She isn’t you’re type.”

  Addison looked back at Wiatt, his eyes narrowing. “What type is that?”

  “The type that isn’t yours.” Wiatt responded with doing his best to ignore the urge to turn around and look back at Tatum. He kept surveying the party crowd.

  “You’re keen on the bar attendant?” Wiatt signaled a floating waiter. “I don’t remember seeing you with her before. I’m pretty sure I would remember if you’d been with her before. She doesn’t look like your average man eating piranha.”

  Wiatt stared hard at Addison. “We have history.” He grabbed a beer of the waiter’s tray of drinks with Addison swapping an empty beer for another full one on the waiter’s tray.

  “Really? Who is she? Do I know her?”

  “You don’t know her.” Wiatt replied far too quickly causing Addison to pay him too much attention. He glanced back at the bar attendant. “Maybe I should get to know her.” Addison said turning now, fully to look back at the bar and Tatum serving some other party guests. “She looks like someone I could get to know.”

  “I have dibs.” Wiatt replied trying to remain calm, he knew Addison was just riling him up, it was what they did to one another all the time when it came to the female of the species.

  “You have dibs on the bar attendant?” Addison asked seeking clarification.

  “I have dibs on the hottie. Yes.”

  Addison chuckled back at his friend. “But I have seniority and hierarchy.”

  “Bullshit, that is not how this works and you fucking know it.” Wiatt snapped at him.