Sam (BBW Bear Shifter Wedding Romance) (Grizzly Groomsmen Book 2) (124 page)

“I guess keepin’ your job’s just gonna have to be one of the stipulations I mentioned before,” he said, as though reading her thoughts.

Mel raised her eyebrows in surprise and quickly scanned all their faces.

“Do you really mean that?”

“Sure I do,” Bart said. “If you’re not our contact at the Konstantine Talent Agency, then we’ll sign with somebody else.”

“Or not at all,” Matt added. “We’re not lookin’ to get rich. We’re just tryin’ to earn some money to send back home.”

“Don’t need ‘rich’,” Luke added. “Not when we got family.”

Mel smiled. “I’m beginning to really like all of you, Mr. Saint.”

Luke grinned. “That’s good, on account of we’re gettin’ to like you real well, too, Miss Darlin’.”

Mel laughed with them and began to gather up the empty dishes.

“Let the boys take care of that,” Bart said. “You and Matt and me, we need to sit down and plan some strategy.”

“All right.”

They settled in the living room while the three younger Saints cleaned up breakfast. Twenty minutes later, Bart nodded in satisfaction.

“Let’s do it.”

Matt reached out to touch her cheek, and when she looked his way, he smiled.

“You might want to get changed and do somethin’ about that shiner before we leave.”

Mel closed her eyes and suppressed a moan.

“There is no way Kitty isn’t going to notice it.”

“You must have one of those ‘power’ suits,” Bart said. “Dressin’ sharp is the first step to distractin’ anybody.”

“I guess. I don’t suppose all of you could…”

Bart grinned. “Don’t worry. We can clean up when we want to.”

Mel returned his grin and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek as she stood and headed for her bedroom, relieved that for the most part, only a headache lingered. She stared at the contents of her closet for a full five minutes before she nodded firmly and reached for her favorite suit. Kitty always insisted her “minions” wear skirts and heels, but with Bart Saint to back her up, Mel decided it was time to make her own mark on the Agency.

She took a quick, very hot shower, dried, then spread an aloe-based lotion all over her body and face. She might not smell like a sexy beauty queen, but her bruises and scrapes certainly felt better for the treatment. Studying herself closely in the mirror, she realized that the bruise on her cheek had not invaded her eye socket, so there was no black eye to cover up. She wasn’t certain if she was relieved or sorry, but decided it was probably a good thing. Standing there in her panties and bra, she did all she could to mask her bruised cheek and get her hair into some semblance of sophistication. Finally satisfied she had done all she could, she reached for her suit.

The charcoal gray pinstripe was just the thing to add classiness and height to her otherwise average build. The suit had slacks rather than a skirt, but the addition of a scarlet silk blouse and black, high-heeled pumps took her from “this is business” to “I have a secret.” She debated letting what she had of cleavage show then decided the bruise on her neck and sternum would ruin the effect, so she buttoned it up to the high collar and added a shimmery, dangling broach that had belonged to her grandmother. For once, her hair was cooperating, and the tone of her blouse gave those wavy locks a deep auburn hue that took her from simple red head to stunning.
 

One last look in her full-length mirror, and Mel decided she would do—if only she didn’t lose her nerve. The bruise on her cheek wasn’t completely hidden, but she hoped Kitty would be so shocked by the outfit that her boss wouldn’t notice the heavy makeup that didn’t quite conceal it.

“Okay, champ,” she said, squaring her shoulders and taking a fortifying breath. “As Bart said, let’s do it.”

Without another glance at the mirror, Mel picked up her tote and headed for the living room.

The stunned expressions that met her entrance warmed her as nothing else could have done. If she blushed with pleasure, it only added to her appeal. Then she noticed Bart and let out a low whistle herself. His suit was coal black, as was his shirt and tie. Highly buffed dress shoes and sparkling cuff links and tie tack completed his transformation. Mel’s smile spread as she took him in.

“I think Kitty Konstantine will meet her match today,” she said.

“And we’re gonna double-team her,” Bart replied, offering her his arm.

Mel laughed as she took it. “The rest of you look pretty good, too,” she added, looking at each brother in turn. They had changed into clean, pressed jeans, tucked in their plaid flannel shirts and added jackets. They must have brought Matt his suitcase, because he, too, had changed.

“You ready, then?” Matt asked, crossing to her.

“Oh, yeah.”

Matt grinned. “Then let’s go.”

Because Mel’s apartment was located between downtown Nashville and Opryland, they were able to avoid the worst of the Monday mid-day traffic as they headed out. Since it was after noon when they arrived, parking near the front door of the Konstantine Talent Agency wasn’t a problem, as many of those who worked inside were out to lunch. Kitty would still be in, Mel was certain, as she stepped out of her car and waited for Bart to park their van. Her boss never took lunch meetings on Monday, and usually spent the day going over the reports from her minions on what they had “discovered” over the weekend. Mel signed in with the security guard at the front desk and had no trouble taking her “entourage” into the heart of the Agency. They certainly all looked as though they belonged there.

Mel felt eyes staring at her as she made her way through the lush interior of the Agency’s home office toward Kitty’s inner sanctum. The few who recognized her were shocked by her appearance, she knew. Those who did not recognize her were equally taken with her companions. Mel kept her shoulders back and her head high, knowing full well attitude was everything.
Always walk into a place like you own it
, Gran used to say,
cause if you do, then someday you will.

Mel put a little extra swing into her stride as they passed her coworkers’ offices, just to be on the safe side.

Kitty Konstantine’s office was guarded by one of her “stud muffins,” as Mel thought of them—a series of very good looking, very young men Kitty hired as her secretaries. Kevin was the latest incarnation: tall, blond, and built like a model of men’s underwear, just as Kitty liked them. Mel had the satisfaction of the young man’s double-take when she sauntered up to his desk. His look of unabashed appreciation was replaced instantly by shock as his eyes rose above her shoulders and he recognized her.

“Where have you been?” he asked sharply. “Ms. Konstantine has had us looking all over for you!”

“I’ve been busy,” Mel said, “but I’m here now. I’ve brought some gentlemen to see Ms. Konstantine.”

“No, way, Ms. Darling. You know she doesn’t like to be disturbed on Mondays.”

“Well, Kevin,” Mel said, settling a hip on his desk and leaning close conspiratorially, “she’ll have to make an exception, won’t she? These gentlemen won’t wait.”

She saw Bart look at his watch, his face a mask of impatience. “It’s now or never, Miss Darling.”

Kevin eyed Bart nervously and visibly shrank back when their eyes met. He glanced nervously at the Saint brothers, but they weren’t paying any attention to him.

“You heard the man, Kevin,” she said, straightening. “Do you really want to be responsible for Ms. Konstantine missing this opportunity? Remember what happened the last time Duncan and Associates signed a new artist Ms. Konstantine never had the chance to get her hands on.

“Oh, that’s right. You weren’t here, then. It was your predecessor who let that one get away.”

The implications of her words were clear, and Kevin took a deep breath. “This one’s on your head, Ms. Darling, he said, pushing the intercom switch.

“You bet!” Mel said cheerfully. She might have felt sorry for the guy, if he had spent less time looking at her breasts just now.

“Ms. Darling to see you, Ms. Konstantine,” Kevin announced.

They didn’t hear the boss’ response, but they could see Kevin wore an ear bud when he got up to open the inner office door.

Mel went in first, wondering if this was to be her last encounter with the woman who had been making her life miserable for the past six months.

“You seem to have forgotten, Ms. Darling, that I don’t take meetings on Monday,” she said, her eyes narrowed menacingly.

“Not at all, Ms. Konstantine, but these gentlemen need to see you.”

Ms. Konstantine seemed to notice Bart and the brothers for the first time, but she seemed unimpressed.

“That would be my fault, Ms. Konstantine,” Bart said, stepping forward to hand Ms. Konstantine his card. “I told the boys that this meeting wasn’t really necessary, since we already have an appointment with Timothy Duncan this afternoon, but Ms. Darling was so good about showing us around last evening and providing breakfast for us this morning, they insisted we give her agency a chance, first. If you’d rather we didn’t, then…”

“No, no,” Ms. Konstantine said, finally standing and coming from behind her power desk. “That’s quite all right, Mr…?”

“This is Mr. Bartholomew Saint, Ms. Konstantine,” Mel said. “He represents his nephews, The Four Saints. That’s Matt, Luke, Mark, and John.”

Ms. Konstantine shook hands with Bart and nodded to the others.

“And just what kind of music do you play?” she asked, leaning back on her desk.

“They have a CD, Ms. Konstantine,” Mel said.
 

“Of course they do,” Ms. Konstantine muttered. She didn’t quite roll her eyes, but she definitely was not happy as she took the offered disk from Bart. She wasn’t foolish, though. If she thought Tim Duncan was interested in this band, she couldn’t not listen to what they had.

“After seeing them perform on Saturday night,” Mel said, accepting the CD from her boss and heading for the sound system built into her wall of shelves, “I am certain you will enjoy it.”

Mel put in the CD and cued up the third cut, which Bart had suggested. In another moment, the brothers’ voices filled the room, and Mel smiled. It was the love song that had so taken her on Saturday night. It was a song about a man’s love of home and hearth, kids and family, but most of all, his love for his wife. She had to blink back tears before turning back to the room, knowing Ms. Konstantine could always hide her own response to music but hoping for some hint of approval.

Ms. Konstantine hadn’t moved from where she leaned on her desk, but her expression showed far more than polite interest. Mel smiled to herself.
Even Ms. Machiavelli can’t stand up to it,
she thought. Mel had wondered if their songs would lose their punch when heard in a recording rather than live, but she needn’t have worried.

Mel glanced toward Matt, and their eyes locked. The deep golden light of his made her insides tremble, and though it was only a recording, she knew he meant to sing this song for her.

When the song ended, Ms. Konstantine took a deep breath.

“All right, Mr. Saint. Let’s talk.

“That will be all, Ms. Darling,” she added to Mel, as she tried to herd the men to a seating area across from her desk.

“I don’t think so,” Bart said.

“What?”

“I understand this is your agency, Ms. Konstantine, but Miss Darling here did all the heavy lifting to get us here, and we’ll only do business with her. We’ve gotten to know her over the past couple of days, and we trust what we know. So if we consider your representation, it will only be with Miss Darling in the mix.”

Ms. Konstantine looked about to argue, but the CD had moved onto the next song, and Mel suddenly knew her boss wouldn’t give them up.

“All right. We’ll do this your way.”

Bart’s smile was predatory, but he sent a wink toward Mel. Mel had to suppress a giggle as she reached for her notebook. This was going to take awhile, but she didn’t doubt that Bart would have every one of his conditions met in the end.

Mel stepped into her apartment and slipped off her shoes. She had been in them for far too long today, but it had been worth every excruciating minute. Bart Saint had handled Kitty Konstantine like a magician handled a rabbit. Kitty hadn’t known what had hit her, only that she had to have The Four Saints in her stable of artists. She’d even unbent toward Mel at one point, promising that she would see a bonus in her next paycheck. Mel wasn’t going to spend the money until it actually appeared in her account, but she had confidence that Bart, whose control of Kitty throughout the meeting would have been unimaginable to Mel only last week, would see that she got her bonus.

“What’re you thinkin’, darlin’?” Matt asked, coming up behind her as she stared out the front window.

Mel smiled. “I still can’t believe how well Bart handled Ms. Machiavelli.”

Matt chuckled. “Uncle Bart can handle just about anyone ’cept his mama. Great Aunt Cecilia’s the only one who handles him.”

Mel laughed. “I’d like to meet her.”

“You will.”

She turned and stared at him, for his voice had turned serious.

“Will I?”

Matt nodded slowly as he crossed to her. Mel felt something move inside as his golden eyes locked onto her blue ones.