The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 141: Chapter 141
You are reading The Maverick Pride Tales, Chapter 141: Chapter 141. Read more chapters of The Maverick Pride Tales.
With her heart pounding, her nerves a complete wreck, and her brain a jumble of half-finished thoughts, Annabeth rushed around her desk gathering her purse and the light jacket she’d worn that day.
Mother Nature liked to mess with New Jerseyans during spring. It was like the mystic goddess was playing roulette with the weather. Sometimes it was beautiful, warm, sunny, and just lovely. Often it was cold, windy, rainy, and downright miserable. The thing was, that all happened in the course of one day.
“Whatever,” she mumbled to herself, swapping her work heels for a pair of neon pink crocs.
Comfort whenever she could, that was Annabeth’s motto. Also, probably why she’d never been picked for this gig before. She’d only recently started wearing appropriate footwear inside the office because Toni suggested it.
She hated what she called Annabeth’s orthopedic nurse shoes, but Annabeth did not give a fuck. Crocs were fucking awesome, and she had a dozen pairs in all colors and prints.
Okay, focus.
Annabeth unplugged her laptop and shoved it in her briefcase, then loaded up all her bags, only turning back to grab her cell phone. This was the first time Ms. Pierce had trusted her to represent EWLP at a convention, or anywhere, for that matter. Usually, the company only sent top salespeople, or important board members—you know, the kind of employees who were hell bent on climbing the corporate ladder.
As in, literally anyone else.
Annabeth was just not like that. None of the Goldens were. Maybe Toni, but that was only because she was some kind of numbers genius. Adrianna, Ariella, and Annabeth were far too easily distracted to get anywhere career wise.
This was her chance to do big things and change the Pride’s opinion of her and her sisters. Maybe save their family name, or at the very least polish it up a little.
Holy moly.
The pressure just got real. Annabeth tried to steady her breathing, but she was about halfway to a panic attack. She could not fuck this up.
She had to go home, pack, take out the kitchen trash, and make sure Adrianna had the spare key to bring in the mail otherwise Mrs. O’Reilly, her neighbor, tended to read it—nosy old bitty. Impromptu business trips were so dang inconvenient, and she had zero time to mess around.
“Annabeth, wanna grab a coffee before you go?” Ariella called after her.
But Annabeth was already taking off down the hall, shaking her head, she turned around to answer her sister.
“I have too many things to do, but I’ll call you later,” she was saying, and naturally, as she spun to grab hold of the exit door, she collided with a short, very well-dressed older man, sporting the cutest white beard she’d ever seen.
“OhMyGawdImSoSorryLookOut!” Annabeth screeched as they both tumbled to the ground.
“Whoopsie! Are you okay, my dear?” The meticulously groomed gentleman asked, righting himself last minute.
In fact, he hardly seemed ruffled by all the fracas. Meanwhile, Annabeth was sitting on her ass with everything she’d been holding covering the floor.
“Crash and bash Annabeth, that’s me,” she grumbled, trying to right her skirt over the unflattering beige granny panties she had on.
Oh well.
It was Thursday, for Pete’s sake. She didn’t have a hot date or anything. Annabeth was a comfort over style kinda gal and would continue to choose practical over pretty but painful any day of the week. Not that she was worried about what the nice old man thought of her panty situation.
“Oh my, you dropped your briefcase. Here, let me help,” he said and started collecting her spilled papers.
“Thank you. I am so sorry. I would say I never do that, but I would be lying,” she only half-joked.
“I’m sorry you probably have to be somewhere. I got this,” she began, but the older man glanced around, his blue eyes sparkling, then he touched his nose and something amazing happened.
Annabeth’s papers began to shake and shimmy, and in the bat of an eye, they went from being sprawled everywhere, to being in a neat little pile in her hands.
“There you go,” he said, and seemed very pleased with himself.
Annabeth’s inner Lioness chuffed. She was alert, but did not sense any threat.
Witch, she whispered into Annabeth’s brain, and being the smooth Shifter that she was, naturally, she blurted it out.
“You’re a Witch, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. Come, let’s go outside a moment so I can see you are alright,” the kind man insisted. “Oh, here,” he said, bending down to retrieve the clear organizer bag she kept inside her purse.
The plastic crinkled in his hand. Annabeth froze, mortification rising. Of course, the bag was translucent and revealed an assortment of pads, tampons, lip gloss, and condoms—a whole bunch of them and all were more than likely past the expiration date.
“OMG! Kill me now,” she mumbled. “Look, I am so sorry—”
“That’s okay, dear. Best you be prepared for life’s adventures, eh? My Betty would approve,” the elderly Witch said, and his blue eyes sparkled with affection.
“Betty?”
“Yes. She was my wife for a very long time, and I miss her terribly. But I talk to her every day, don’t I liebling,” he said to the side.
“That is super sweet,” Annabeth gushed.
“Thank you, dear. Come, we can sit on this bench here and you can tell me where you were going, taking off like a rocket!”
“Oh! I am so embarrassed,” she replied, and giggled. “I’m sorry, Mr.?”
“Call me Uncle Uzzi,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye and took her briefcase from her overflowing hands.
“You know, I don’t know you from Adam, but I feel like I can trust you,” Annabeth said.
Clearly, she bumped her head on the way down or something. Since when did she trust total strangers?
“You can trust me, Annabeth, I am great with secrets. Now, why don’t you tell me what is going on?”
“Did I tell you my name?” she wondered aloud, but Uncle Uzzi just grinned and waited for her to continue speaking.
“Oh well, I suppose I did. Anyway, the thing is I hate traveling, you know? Flying makes me nauseated. Trains, no way. And I would drive, but I just have zero sense of direction and, well, I get distracted by shiny things,” she mumbled and shrugged.
Annabeth was a lot of things and honest was one of them. She was not down on herself. Hell no. She loved her faults, took them in stride, and anyone who didn’t appreciate them could just keep on moving. But this trip, ugh, this trip, had her stomach butterflies buzzing around like fighter jets.
She felt weird. Like she was on the cusp of something big. She turned to Uncle Uzzi, trusting the strange Witch for some reason, and waited for him to say something. The older man smiled gently, blue eyes sparking with magic and maybe a hint of mischief as he patted her hand.
“It’s okay, Annabeth. Lots of people dislike traveling,” the male Witch said.
His agreement made her feel oodles better. So much so that Annabeth continued her tirade to the total and complete stranger. Uncle Uzzi nodded sympathetically his sapphire stare full of understanding.
“I know it is silly but what kind of woman wants to be completely at the mercy of someone else? Planes shouldn’t even be capable of flight! And who trusts trains? We don’t even see who drives them, for Pete’s sake. Is it an engineer or a conductor, and aren’t those words we use for other jobs?”
Okay, she was getting hysterical now. But there was just no stopping it.
“For all we know, every time we get on public transportation, we could be trusting our lives to some self-driving contraption. Like everything is really just a giant drone or something with a twelve-year-old kid operating it using an Xbox from home!” Annabeth shouted.
“Oh my, I never thought of it like that,” the older man said with a wry grin, but that did not stop Annabeth from continuing her tirade.
“And you know what else?” she dropped to a mock-whisper, as she started going through the things she and Uzzi had collected from the ground, shoving them in the appropriate bags.
“What’s that, dear?”
“You’re a Witch, so I can say this without judgement. I’m a Lioness, right? Well, one of the biggest banes of my existence is having a freaking heat cycle. Oh yeah, you know what I mean. Propagation of the species and all that fun crap,” she mumbled.
“Yes, I am aware of heat cycles. Can’t you use something to stop it?”
“Been doing that since I was eighteen, but being a Shifter, my genetics make it impossible for any potion or medicine to work very long. Eventually, they become ineffective.”
“I understand. That must be difficult,” Uzzi sympathized.
“Oh yeah. And now my boss is sending me on this trip on the very weekend my heat cycle is due to start. Literally, any day now.”
“What is the trip?” he asked.
“It’s the New Jersey Convention for Quality Food Products,” she told him, and shook her head.
“I see, and is there no boyfriend who will travel with you to this event?”
“What? Who me? No! No boyfriend,” she replied and shook her head in denial.
“Annabeth, have you talked to your boss?”
“No! I can’t refuse this trip. This is my chance to finally show my boss I can handle this kind of thing. But really, can you imagine being n a hotel full of horny, and probably married, creeps, looking for a little side bae action, and going into your heat? Happened to my cousin when she was on an assignment with her best friend’s mate, and boy, was shit awkward after that weekend!”
“I see,” the man said, reaching into his coat for his cell phone. “What’s your address, Annabeth?”
“Oh, 645 Willow Avenue,” she told him, and stared wide eyed. “Oh my, you must think I am insane! I am so sorry for basically kidnapping you, and dragging you outside, and making you listen to my nutty rant—”
Annabeth gasped. She slapped a hand over her mouth.
Mother Nature liked to mess with New Jerseyans during spring. It was like the mystic goddess was playing roulette with the weather. Sometimes it was beautiful, warm, sunny, and just lovely. Often it was cold, windy, rainy, and downright miserable. The thing was, that all happened in the course of one day.
“Whatever,” she mumbled to herself, swapping her work heels for a pair of neon pink crocs.
Comfort whenever she could, that was Annabeth’s motto. Also, probably why she’d never been picked for this gig before. She’d only recently started wearing appropriate footwear inside the office because Toni suggested it.
She hated what she called Annabeth’s orthopedic nurse shoes, but Annabeth did not give a fuck. Crocs were fucking awesome, and she had a dozen pairs in all colors and prints.
Okay, focus.
Annabeth unplugged her laptop and shoved it in her briefcase, then loaded up all her bags, only turning back to grab her cell phone. This was the first time Ms. Pierce had trusted her to represent EWLP at a convention, or anywhere, for that matter. Usually, the company only sent top salespeople, or important board members—you know, the kind of employees who were hell bent on climbing the corporate ladder.
As in, literally anyone else.
Annabeth was just not like that. None of the Goldens were. Maybe Toni, but that was only because she was some kind of numbers genius. Adrianna, Ariella, and Annabeth were far too easily distracted to get anywhere career wise.
This was her chance to do big things and change the Pride’s opinion of her and her sisters. Maybe save their family name, or at the very least polish it up a little.
Holy moly.
The pressure just got real. Annabeth tried to steady her breathing, but she was about halfway to a panic attack. She could not fuck this up.
She had to go home, pack, take out the kitchen trash, and make sure Adrianna had the spare key to bring in the mail otherwise Mrs. O’Reilly, her neighbor, tended to read it—nosy old bitty. Impromptu business trips were so dang inconvenient, and she had zero time to mess around.
“Annabeth, wanna grab a coffee before you go?” Ariella called after her.
But Annabeth was already taking off down the hall, shaking her head, she turned around to answer her sister.
“I have too many things to do, but I’ll call you later,” she was saying, and naturally, as she spun to grab hold of the exit door, she collided with a short, very well-dressed older man, sporting the cutest white beard she’d ever seen.
“OhMyGawdImSoSorryLookOut!” Annabeth screeched as they both tumbled to the ground.
“Whoopsie! Are you okay, my dear?” The meticulously groomed gentleman asked, righting himself last minute.
In fact, he hardly seemed ruffled by all the fracas. Meanwhile, Annabeth was sitting on her ass with everything she’d been holding covering the floor.
“Crash and bash Annabeth, that’s me,” she grumbled, trying to right her skirt over the unflattering beige granny panties she had on.
Oh well.
It was Thursday, for Pete’s sake. She didn’t have a hot date or anything. Annabeth was a comfort over style kinda gal and would continue to choose practical over pretty but painful any day of the week. Not that she was worried about what the nice old man thought of her panty situation.
“Oh my, you dropped your briefcase. Here, let me help,” he said and started collecting her spilled papers.
“Thank you. I am so sorry. I would say I never do that, but I would be lying,” she only half-joked.
“I’m sorry you probably have to be somewhere. I got this,” she began, but the older man glanced around, his blue eyes sparkling, then he touched his nose and something amazing happened.
Annabeth’s papers began to shake and shimmy, and in the bat of an eye, they went from being sprawled everywhere, to being in a neat little pile in her hands.
“There you go,” he said, and seemed very pleased with himself.
Annabeth’s inner Lioness chuffed. She was alert, but did not sense any threat.
Witch, she whispered into Annabeth’s brain, and being the smooth Shifter that she was, naturally, she blurted it out.
“You’re a Witch, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. Come, let’s go outside a moment so I can see you are alright,” the kind man insisted. “Oh, here,” he said, bending down to retrieve the clear organizer bag she kept inside her purse.
The plastic crinkled in his hand. Annabeth froze, mortification rising. Of course, the bag was translucent and revealed an assortment of pads, tampons, lip gloss, and condoms—a whole bunch of them and all were more than likely past the expiration date.
“OMG! Kill me now,” she mumbled. “Look, I am so sorry—”
“That’s okay, dear. Best you be prepared for life’s adventures, eh? My Betty would approve,” the elderly Witch said, and his blue eyes sparkled with affection.
“Betty?”
“Yes. She was my wife for a very long time, and I miss her terribly. But I talk to her every day, don’t I liebling,” he said to the side.
“That is super sweet,” Annabeth gushed.
“Thank you, dear. Come, we can sit on this bench here and you can tell me where you were going, taking off like a rocket!”
“Oh! I am so embarrassed,” she replied, and giggled. “I’m sorry, Mr.?”
“Call me Uncle Uzzi,” he replied with a twinkle in his eye and took her briefcase from her overflowing hands.
“You know, I don’t know you from Adam, but I feel like I can trust you,” Annabeth said.
Clearly, she bumped her head on the way down or something. Since when did she trust total strangers?
“You can trust me, Annabeth, I am great with secrets. Now, why don’t you tell me what is going on?”
“Did I tell you my name?” she wondered aloud, but Uncle Uzzi just grinned and waited for her to continue speaking.
“Oh well, I suppose I did. Anyway, the thing is I hate traveling, you know? Flying makes me nauseated. Trains, no way. And I would drive, but I just have zero sense of direction and, well, I get distracted by shiny things,” she mumbled and shrugged.
Annabeth was a lot of things and honest was one of them. She was not down on herself. Hell no. She loved her faults, took them in stride, and anyone who didn’t appreciate them could just keep on moving. But this trip, ugh, this trip, had her stomach butterflies buzzing around like fighter jets.
She felt weird. Like she was on the cusp of something big. She turned to Uncle Uzzi, trusting the strange Witch for some reason, and waited for him to say something. The older man smiled gently, blue eyes sparking with magic and maybe a hint of mischief as he patted her hand.
“It’s okay, Annabeth. Lots of people dislike traveling,” the male Witch said.
His agreement made her feel oodles better. So much so that Annabeth continued her tirade to the total and complete stranger. Uncle Uzzi nodded sympathetically his sapphire stare full of understanding.
“I know it is silly but what kind of woman wants to be completely at the mercy of someone else? Planes shouldn’t even be capable of flight! And who trusts trains? We don’t even see who drives them, for Pete’s sake. Is it an engineer or a conductor, and aren’t those words we use for other jobs?”
Okay, she was getting hysterical now. But there was just no stopping it.
“For all we know, every time we get on public transportation, we could be trusting our lives to some self-driving contraption. Like everything is really just a giant drone or something with a twelve-year-old kid operating it using an Xbox from home!” Annabeth shouted.
“Oh my, I never thought of it like that,” the older man said with a wry grin, but that did not stop Annabeth from continuing her tirade.
“And you know what else?” she dropped to a mock-whisper, as she started going through the things she and Uzzi had collected from the ground, shoving them in the appropriate bags.
“What’s that, dear?”
“You’re a Witch, so I can say this without judgement. I’m a Lioness, right? Well, one of the biggest banes of my existence is having a freaking heat cycle. Oh yeah, you know what I mean. Propagation of the species and all that fun crap,” she mumbled.
“Yes, I am aware of heat cycles. Can’t you use something to stop it?”
“Been doing that since I was eighteen, but being a Shifter, my genetics make it impossible for any potion or medicine to work very long. Eventually, they become ineffective.”
“I understand. That must be difficult,” Uzzi sympathized.
“Oh yeah. And now my boss is sending me on this trip on the very weekend my heat cycle is due to start. Literally, any day now.”
“What is the trip?” he asked.
“It’s the New Jersey Convention for Quality Food Products,” she told him, and shook her head.
“I see, and is there no boyfriend who will travel with you to this event?”
“What? Who me? No! No boyfriend,” she replied and shook her head in denial.
“Annabeth, have you talked to your boss?”
“No! I can’t refuse this trip. This is my chance to finally show my boss I can handle this kind of thing. But really, can you imagine being n a hotel full of horny, and probably married, creeps, looking for a little side bae action, and going into your heat? Happened to my cousin when she was on an assignment with her best friend’s mate, and boy, was shit awkward after that weekend!”
“I see,” the man said, reaching into his coat for his cell phone. “What’s your address, Annabeth?”
“Oh, 645 Willow Avenue,” she told him, and stared wide eyed. “Oh my, you must think I am insane! I am so sorry for basically kidnapping you, and dragging you outside, and making you listen to my nutty rant—”
Annabeth gasped. She slapped a hand over her mouth.
End of The Maverick Pride Tales Chapter 141. Continue reading Chapter 142 or return to The Maverick Pride Tales book page.