A Dragon Baker for Dante (Omegas of Animals #17)
Chapter One
Dante
“We never use an event planner at Animals.” Karma’s words threatened to ruin my chances for a contract that could make my career. “It’s my job.” She stood rigid, hands fisted at her sides. “I can do it.”
“And one you do beautifully.” Warren, the other owner of the club and a few others from what I understood, stood from behind his desk and moved to take his mate’s hands and smoothed them open.
“But with groundbreaking for the new club and the other projects you have going, we need to make an exception in this case.” He lifted her fingers to his lips and kissed the backs of her hands.
“You’re extraordinary, but only one person. ”
Watching them gaze into one another’s eyes, I felt an ache deep inside.
They were known to be devoted to one another, but seeing it in person stole my breath.
There were two of their employees here, as well, for our meeting, but Karma and her mate might have been alone.
It was as if we’d faded into the woodwork, and the two wolf shifters bracketing me didn’t look the least bit discomfited.
I’d heard about this power couple for years, and never dreamed of meeting them myself.
Having moved to the Arizona desert only recently, my previous life had not prepared me for the community that centered around a shifter night club that made every para and even the occasional human welcome.
As the story went, when Karma came to the club one night, Warren recognized her as his mate and changed policy to allow everyone to come as long as they were respectful to others.
My dragon flight did not operate in that way.
Rather, we lived apart from not only humans but all other shifters as well.
Traveling into town only for the most necessary shopping, young were warned not to associate with others who were not our social equals.
For most of my peers, that was enough said, but not for this dragon.
All the warnings only made me curious about those who did not dwell in our den.
As we drove into town, I hung out the truck window, watching all the antics of the townspeople and wishing to participate.
They seemed to have so much fun, riding bicycles, skateboarding, running along the sidewalks.
I got glimpses of fairs and celebrations so far from anything I experienced that I actually snuck out and hitched a ride along the highway just to attend one—getting caught and returned home before I rode even one ride.
Our life was one of wealth and rules, with little laughter, a stifling existence for me, and I was forever in trouble for breaking decorum. Until the day I left, with nothing but the clothes I wore and a small amount of money I’d hidden away because nobody who left could take their hoard.
Separating a dragon from their hoard was a painful and damaging thing, something I did not truly understand until the door slammed behind me.
Well educated in a classical way, I could speak Latin but didn’t know how to rent an apartment or get a job.
I could play piano but had never arranged for electricity or any other utility, paid a bill, or even cooked a meal.
I wanted to live for real—but didn’t know what that meant.
I caught a bus and traveled far from home, not wanting running back to be an easy option.
I’d stay somewhere for six months or a year, experiencing other people’s lives and how they lived them, expanding my horizons, and learning everything I could about how to survive in the wider world.
It wasn’t easy, and I spent some nights living on the street as I figured out how to be part of the human and non-dragon shifter life. I met kindness and cruelty in turn, learning when to let people know who I really was and when not—mostly not.
Gradually, I began to learn how to blend in, learning that a thrift store offered inexpensive options for job interview clothes and that many communities had soup kitchens or food pantries to keep me going.
Finally, with my last dollars spent on personal hygiene items and after a good bath in a creek, I convinced a convenience store manager to hire me to clean the bathrooms, mop the floors, and restock shelves.
I stayed there just long enough to get a little money built up, assisted by the fact that the manager let me sleep on the floor in the back room, then I was off again, wanting to see more, learn more, expand my horizons, and figure out what I would like to do.
At each stop, I spent time getting to know people, learning how to be a good listener.
By the time I arrived at the meeting in Warren’s office, I’d worked a number of fast-food jobs, waited tables, vacuumed vehicles at a truck wash, and had so many other low-level occupations that they were all a blur, as were the towns I’d stayed in.
One thing that struck me was how many folks were lonely, either because they had no family or friends or because they feared the ones they had would not accept them if they knew their true selves.
I could really identify.
Often, they found it easier to talk to a stranger about their fears and worries, their traumas…and their dreams and desires.
When I was young, I wanted to be part of the happy times. The picnics and fairs and other joyous occasions I only caught the barest peek at from the family vehicles on those trips to town. We were supposed to be better than all the rest. But, if so, why didn’t we smile more? Laugh? Hug and kiss?
I still didn’t get to spend much time at celebrations because I was busy working two or three jobs at a time.
But when I was invited to a birthday party or baby shower or, once, a mating reception, I took notice of the details.
What made the occasion festive and what was just wasted money.
In many cases, I could attribute the waste to those hired to run the event. Party planners of various iterations.
And why did some do better than others?
I wanted to know.
So, I made it my business to find out. Speaking with partygoers and staff. The planners themselves, if they would take the time. I worked a few events as a waiter or bartender. Dragons were fond of elegant cocktails and we knew how to make them. People really liked to chat with bartenders.
And, in the end, I learned something that should have been a no-brainer, but somehow was not.
The successful event planners took time to get to know the client.
They didn’t just hand them a binder of predesigned parties with little room to customize.
They found out what the happy couple, loving parents, relatives, and friends of the person being honored truly wanted for them.
Finally, I offered myself as a pro bono assistant planner to an iguana shifter whose reputation for excellence preceded her.
She did larger events, many charity fundraisers and civic organization events as well as the usual types of parties, and she refused my offer. Then insisted on paying me for my time.
“I would like to open my own business one day, so asking you to take me on is more training than employment,” I protested.
Elisa tsked. “Never sell yourself short. I have seen you bartending at several events and I believe you have what it takes. Just don’t compete with me for contracts for your first five years, and I will pay you and train you.
Deal?” And now I had my own fledgling business just outside of Phoenix, Arizona. The city nearest Animals.
What would the den say if they could see me now? An iguana as my former boss, even on a temporary basis? The idea of their reaction made me smile.
“Dante?” Karma said my name in a way that made me think it wasn’t the first time. Last time I looked at her, she’d been lost in her mate’s eyes. “You okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Woolgathering.”
One of the wolves who’d come in with me chuckled. “Karma, we all check out when you and Warren get all kissy face like that. Can’t blame us for being jealous.”
Her cheeks flushed a pretty rose-red, but she waved him off. “You will have your own mate one day, and then you’ll understand.”
The other wolf snorted, “I have been around a lot of mated couples, but not one has been quite like you two.”
Warren growled, and they subsided. “Karma, what do you want to do?”
“You said Elisa recommended him?” She had? I had only told her I was going to try for this because I wanted to make sure I wasn’t stepping on her toes, per our agreement. But since Karma said she never used a planner, why were they acquainted with my old boss?
“I spoke with her the other day,” her mate said. “She says he is one of the most intuitive planners she knows and she couldn’t say enough nice things. He’s relatively new but very well trained.” Had she told them it was by her? Didn’t matter, I supposed.
“Well, then. If your cousin’s mate likes her, let’s do it.” Karma reached out a hand and shook mine. “Warren, let’s get the contract signed so I can get back to work.”