The Maverick Pride Tales - Chapter 143: Chapter 143

“Listen up everyone, today Falcon Limousine Service is proud to announce the opening of our ninth new base of operations on the East Coast,” Hank Garret announced to the room of drivers currently lounging in the break room. “Falcon Limousine Service Station Nine is officially a go.”
He turned to look at his crew, rolling his eyes at the smattering of applause. Fuckers. They were usually a little more enthusiastic about things like this. Especially, ever since he’d given the drivers who had been with him longer than five years stock options.
Then again, the mood around Falcon Limousine Service Station One, located in Manhattan, had been a bit melancholy ever since Antonio was dumped by his ex. The Cougar Shifter had been so distraught, he’d packed his shit and left a note saying he was done. Last Hank had heard, he’d gone back home to West Virginia somewhere.
Poor guy.
“Oh shit, really? That the one by Maccon City, boss?” Carter, a Lion Shifter from Blue Valley, jogged Hank from his reverie with his enthusiasm.
The man was the size of a bus. Literally. Hank could see why as he watched him slap together a triple decker peanut butter and strawberry jelly sandwich.
Fucking Lions.
Hank’s Gyrfalcon bristled. The feline Shifters were always large, not to mention nutty. Not that he was lacking in the size category. Hank was tall and muscular as they come and not without good reason.
His inner beastie was the largest breed of falcon found in nature, and since Shifters often outweighed their wild cousins in animal form, it stood to reason they did in human form as well.
He was as muscular as the feline, but that was as far as the comparison went. Lions, especially the ones from Carter’s Pride, were a handful. As a rule, he steered away from the rascally furballs. Especially when it came to dating them.
“So,” Carter interrupted his musing, taking a monstrous bite. “Company’s really making it then, huh, boss?”
Strawberry jelly dripped out the corner of his mouth and the Lion winked, giving Hank a lopsided grin. The Falcon inside of him closed his eyes, wishing like hell he could unsee the half-masticated sandwich the feline was currently chomping on.
“Yes, Carter. The company is solid.”
Hank had a thing about sloppy eaters. As in, he couldn’t bear to look at them. The raptor half of his dual nature agreed with a shake of his deadly beak.
Sigh.
The Lion kept on chomping without wiping his mouth. Hank almost lost it, but he was rescued from having to strangle his employee and figuring out how to dispose of the body by Henrietta. Apparently, Hank wasn’t the only one who had issues with watching the messy Lion eat.
“How can you do that?” Henrietta, a Rabbit Shifter, shook her head at the admittedly absurd amount of strawberry jelly on the man’s sandwich, and more importantly, on the front of his shirt. Slob. The female growled and grabbed a paper towel from the roll, wiping it hard across Carter’s face.
“Ow! Fuck, Hen, you took off my freaking skin with that!” Carter growled, shoving another enormous portion in his mouth and swallowing it down in one bite.
“Dude!” Hank shook his head at the man and tossed him the rest of the roll.
“Thanks, boss,” Carter replied and winked.
Hank rolled his eyes, wondering if he didn’t do it on purpose just to rile him. Of course he did. Fucking pussy.
“Change your shirt before you head out. And to answer your other question, yes, it’s the Maccon City station. The ten cars I sent arrived, and I will be conducting interviews today for a manager.”
“That’s real good news, boss!”
Carter smiled again and Hank’s eyes widened. The Lion’s smile was a thing of pure horror, considering he had just shoved the other half of his sandwich in his mouth. A gory mess of peanut butter and red goo. Like some B-horror film meant to torture rather than terrify.
Yuck.
“I thought cats were neat,” Henrietta said and made gagging noises. Hank just frowned.
“Only when we eat,” Carter said, waggling his eyebrows.
“You’re kidding, right?” the Rabbit Shifter flicked her hair over her shoulder and turned her nose up at the feline’s antics.
“You know, I might visit the new station sometime soon, if I can get the time off. Maybe apply for manager,” the Lion said.
“Oh, yeah?”
“Hell yeah! We’re a family, man. Anything I can do to help, you know that.”
“Okay then. I’ll look for your application,” Hank replied and nodded.
It was touching the Lion thought of their little car company as family. Hank was not so sure he was management material, but he could be wrong.
Family.
The word stuck in his head like a neon sign. Hank’s father had some very particular ideas about what constituted family. Such as species and genus.
Maybe he was bigoted, but Hank’s father was a good man. Right? Hank cupped a hand over the back of his head and exhaled sharply. He’d recently discovered a breathing regime designed to help ease his anxieties, and he could not deny, his father was a major fucking source of angst.
He'd been pissed when Hank had decided to open a business—and not just any business, but a driving service. Of all the things for a flight Shifter to be into, cars were something his old man just didn’t understand.
It shouldn’t matter what his father thought of his company, but he could not help but feel he let him down. Sure, Hank loved what he did. But he missed his parents. He still wished he could have made them proud when they were alive.
His Gyrfalcon stirred, and Hank took a moment to settle the beast. His inner bird always wanted to Shift when he thought about his parents. Their relationship had been difficult, but Hank tried to be a good son.
Maps had always fascinated him as a kid, and he’d spent countless hours making up routes to get from one place to another. Now, Falcon Limousine used sophisticated software courtesy of Graves Enterprises, protected by the highest security firewalls by Draco Fortis, in order to get his clients the fastest, safest, and most discreet luxury rides of their lives.
“Okay, let’s get to work,” he grumbled when he noticed everyone still standing there.
Hank clapped his hands loudly, and everyone got moving, including Carter, who whipped off his shirt before leaving the room. Hopefully, to change into a clean one.
“Holy cow,” whispered Henrietta as he exited the room.
Her gaze flashed to her boss and her cheeks heated at being caught ogling the man. Hank was so not getting into that conversation, so he just nodded at her to move it.
Fucking Lions.
Carter failed to note the effect his shirtless state had on the females who worked with him. Hank wished he was just as oblivious, unfortunately, he was not. But because he was a good boss, and a smart man, he ignored it.
Possible office romances aside, Carter and Hen, and the rest of his crew, for that matter, were excellent drivers and loyal to boot. He would not have hired them otherwise. Those two had been with Hank since the beginning. They owned a share of the corporation and worked harder than anyone else he knew.
When asked to head their own stations, both refused, citing almost exactly the same reason. They’d rather work with him, and the city didn’t need two Falcon Limousine Service stations. Carter’s interest in the new Maccon City station was an interesting development.
“Okay, everyone, your itineraries will hit your tablets any second now. Back to work, and be safe out there,” Hank said, walking back to his office.
Though he was the CEO and owned the most stock in Falcon Limousine Service, he still drove as often as he could. Yes, he was ultimately responsible for the corporation, the marketing, development, finance, and human resource decisions, but he was most at home behind the wheel of his custom enhanced Rolls Royce Phantom limousine.
While he waited for his laptop to boot, Hank grabbed his work tablet. A familiar zing grabbed his attention, and he grinned. Looked like his Uncle Uzzi was back in the tri-state area. Hank smiled to himself as he read the older Witch’s email.
He could just imagine what mischief the white-haired matchmaker was up to. His honorary uncle, Uzzi, was a friend to both his parents before they’d passed from a rare disease that affected bird Shifters.
He’d been a solid figure in his teen years and later. Hank made sure to always be on call whenever Uncle Uzzi needed him. No one knew him as long or as well as the old Witch.
The strands of gray threaded throughout Hank’s hair were a testament to that. His just reward for causing Uncle Uzzi to have more than one heart palpation when he’d been growing up, or so the man had always said. Hank was something of a daredevil in his fledgling days. At any rate, he loved the old man and was looking forward to seeing him again. As long as Uncle Uzzi didn’t try any funny business.
Uncle Uzzi’s Magical Matchmaking Service might be the reason the Witch was renowned throughout the entire world—and beyond—but Hank did not need his services.
Nope. Period. End of discussion.
When Hank was ready to settle down, he would do so without the famous matchmaker. He could find his own mate in his own time. The female he envisioned would be a lovely Falconess. One who was prepared to be a loyal wife and devoted mother.