His Flash Mate (Dominant CEO Shifter Romance #2)

Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

Returning home with a business degree and a mountain of school debt meant swallowing a few of my principles, like never taking money from men. At least at my uncle’s club, Lunar Pulse, I knew every dollar I made was earned.

I barely made it through the employee entrance before Uncle Jay swooped in with a grin.

“Welcome back, Sophie-Girl!” He crushed me in one of his bear hugs. “I know this isn’t where you want to be, but I’m glad you’re here. I really need the help.”

I patted his arm as I wriggled free. At five-foot-five, I had to look up at him.

He was tall, built like a linebacker, and as much of a draw as the pulsing lights and music were, especially in a place where humans and shifters alike mingled without distinction.

While he might be mistaken for one occasionally due to his size, he wasn’t one.

“Don’t act like you’re not doing me a huge favor,” I said. “At least now I’m old enough to serve drinks instead of being an overpaid dishwasher who can take inventory.”

The man who’d been more like a father to me than my own laughed and motioned for me to follow him so he could get me situated before the club opened. Having worked there before I went off to school, I already knew the basics, but he’d made a few changes since I’d been gone.

“How’s your mom doing?” he asked after showing me the new ordering system.

“Good. We didn’t get to talk much when I got home yesterday. She had to run back to work for something, and I passed out before she got home.”

“Moving day’s hard work,” he said. “She still at Palambers?”

I shook my head. “Her position was cut there. She’s at another department store now.”

He nodded but looked troubled. I could guess why.

Uncle Jay was nothing like his brother, my father.

He was willing to help people even at an expense to himself.

Not for the first time, I wished Mom had ended up with Uncle Jay instead of Dad.

Uncle Jay would have never divorced her like my dad had.

However, Uncle Jay was ten years her junior and had still been in middle school when Mom met Dad in college.

“Well, if she’s ever interested in helping out here, she can have her pick of positions,” Uncle Jay said.

“I’ll let her know.”

I wouldn’t. Despite her shattered self-esteem, Mom still had her pride. She’d once run her own company. How could she go from president to bartender?

Uncle Jay handed me an apron and the handheld tablet we used for orders.

“Play around with it for a bit. See if you can customize a drink order. When Erika gets here, I’ll have you follow her around for tonight.”

I sat on a velvet bar chair as he walked away.

He might think I didn’t want to work at his club after coming home, but I did. It was a stepping stone. Serving drinks near downtown meant money, connections, and a front-row seat to how Uncle Jay ran things.

I wasn’t picky about work. I’d start at the bottom, learn everything I could, and make sure I never ended up as someone else’s tool, like Mom had. She’d built a business from nothing, gained access to the social elites of Motan—the city I called home—and once she was at her peak, Dad took it all.

The lights dimmed in the club, and the decorative ones turned on around the bar’s back mirror. I caught a glimpse of my serious, slightly angry expression. Relaxing, I forced a friendly smile that didn’t quite reach my cosmetically accentuated blue eyes.

You can’t change the past, Soph. Get over it, and smile so the tips roll in.

I smiled wider and ran a hand over my smooth blonde hair that I’d pulled back into a ponytail. The makeup and hairdo, along with the black and white uniform, gave me a high-class look I hoped would gain me some big tips.

With my mood in a better place, I focused on successfully customizing a few drink orders and then sending a group message to my friends, Wrenly and Miranda.

Me: Who’s ready for some drinks tonight?

Wrenly: Are you back? I’m so excited! Not feeling the greatest right now, but I’ll let you know when we can get together. Miss you!

Miranda: Don’t lie. You’re probably already in bed getting what we’re not. But we forgive you. I’m up for drinks. Where and when?

Me: Lunar Pulse. I’m serving until close.

Miranda: Be there soon!

I pocketed my phone as Erika came over to introduce herself.

She was sweet, like Wrenly. Not like Miranda.

Miranda had bite, the kind you’d expect from a wolf shifter.

Yet, somehow, despite that major difference, we had still clicked over fashion—something, Wrenly, my human ex-roommate, never cared about.

Erika showed me which section of the bar was ours and gave me a quick rundown of what to expect and what not to tolerate. I could see why Uncle Jay put me with her. She was close to my age but had the no-nonsense attitude of someone much older.

Unfortunately for Uncle Jay, there wasn’t a crazy rush when the doors opened. It was more of a slow trickle, exactly the way I remembered business being before I went to school, too. Lunar Pulse wasn’t losing money, but it wasn’t growing either.

While I slipped into the familiar routine of mixing the standard bar drinks people ordered, I brainstormed marketing ideas.

Uncle Jay always tried to feature a drink special.

Something novel. But people didn’t come here for that.

Really, they came here for him. So, between orders, I took a quick video of him working behind the bar that really showcased his good looks.

Miranda showed up around ten. The crowd hadn’t grown much, and I’d taken enough of Erika’s customers to prove that I could work on my own during the next shift, so I clocked out early and found Uncle Jay.

“Can I have access to Pulse’s social accounts?” I asked.

“Sure.”

I held out my hand for his phone.

“Now?”

I grinned at him. “Yep. You’re going to help me build my business skills portfolio. Marketing is the backbone of business growth, and I have ideas.”

He unlocked his phone and handed it over.

I quickly gave myself permission to all of Lunar Pulse’s business socials and pretended not to notice the messages from women who were hooking up with him.

I didn’t see any harm in hookups so long as both parties knew that’s all it was.

And it seemed all his companions did know.

Once I was set, I gave him his phone back and went to join Miranda.

“I thought you were going to serve, not drink with me,” she said when I handed her a pretty cocktail I’d snagged from my uncle.

“That’s not for drinking. Yet. Just hold it and look sexy for a second,” I said.

She struck a provocative pose, just as I knew she would, and I took a picture. The gorgeous brunette with a soul-searching gaze and lips that would tempt any straight man or queer woman would pull in the patrons as much as the tempting drink she was holding.

“Are you hooking me up with someone?” she asked, watching me upload it.

“Nope, you’re holding tonight’s drink special and helping class up the place. You can drink now.”

She chuckled and took a sip as I finished promoting Lunar Pulse’s drink and dedicated cocktail enthusiast, my uncle. Then I sat back and looked over my friend. She looked as fit and as fashionably fabulous as ever with her glossy hair and chic sleeve dress to accentuate her figure and…

“New earrings,” I said, my gaze lingering on the high-end fashion jewelry. “How long did it take you to save for those?”

“Forever,” she said with a pout before she preened a little. “Wrenly never notices when I wear something new. This is why I like hanging out with you.”

“Is she really okay? It’s not like her to be sick. Ever. One sneeze and her family has her getting a check-up.”

Miranda grinned. “You’re not wrong. The jury is still out on whether she’s sick or just still addicted to going to Pound Town with her mate.”

“It’s been a year.”

Miranda shrugged. “With us shifters, that mate spark takes a long time to fade…if ever, if we’re lucky.”

I made a face. “No thanks. I like my sex life like my bank account—frequent deposits, quick withdrawals, and zero regrets.”

Miranda smirked. “Still no interest in the white dress and tiara.”

“Hell no. I’ve seen firsthand the trauma that follows the ‘I do’ ghost garb and refuse to be another victim.”

“Ghost garb? That’s a new one. Explain.”

“It’s what you wear before you become a faded version of your former self.”

“Ouch. Okay. So you’re saying no man would stand a chance at winning you over?”

“For some stress relief between the sheets? Maybe. Depends on our chemistry. I like fun, but I’m not free and easy. If he’s looking for something more? Hard pass.”

“So if a little birdie told an interested man about your love of fashion in exchange for a designer purse the little birdie’s been obsessing over for the last three months, it wouldn’t be a break in trust, right?”

It didn’t take a degree to figure out who the designer-obsessed little birdie was. I considered Miranda as I took a sip of my own drink.

“Who’s the interested male?” I asked finally.

“A guy I know who saw you and thinks he might have a chance.”

I snorted. “Zero chance, but go on. What does telling him about my fashion obsession have to do with you getting a purse?”

“Like I said, he’s interested. But I already told him you were talking about a gender change.”

I grinned at her, appreciating the deflection on my behalf.

“And it didn’t seem to faze him for long,” she continued.

“He’s still interested and has been asking me for advice on how to win you over.

He was easy to ignore until he said I could name my price.

Of course, I didn’t give him anything—chicks before dicks—but if you give me the nod, I think I can get us matching handbags. ”

My laughter rang out.

“Go for it. Nothing you tell him will help him win me over. The second he hears your price, he’ll go running. Not many people can afford your level of taste.”

She silently toasted me. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”