Chapter Two
Kit looked around the hotel room, clutching the handle of her duffle bag in an iron grip.
This place was nice.
Carefully, she set her bag on the bench at the foot of the bed and sank onto the edge of the mattress. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and looked away fast.
Not blond enough.
Not proper enough.
Not enough clothes on.
Bridger had what looked like a brand-new truck, and his house was so nice. He probably had fuckin’ house plants and filtered water and a 401k and stuff.
Her eyes prickled with tears, and she shook her head hard. “Stop it,” she gritted out to herself.
But the thought of going back to her Pack was breaking her heart.
They’d all shamed her for signing up for matchmaking.
Especially since she’d been pursued by the Second.
The only way her Alpha had let her cut ties with the Pack and come here was because she was officially paired.
The paperwork had been signed. Plagiarized?
What those two werewolves had done was so destructive.
It was so messed up. Why had they done that?
She thought back to all the flirty conversations and hated herself.
She was full of shame. They had been engaging in those conversations, but they were making fun of her all along.
Shame heated her cheeks. She hated that she would have to admit to her Pack that they’d been right, and she’d been wrong.
She was always the wrong one.
What did she even do with the matchmaking? She opened up the last message from Lauren, her and Bridger’s matchmaker. The last text was checking in that Kit was still on time to meet Bridger today.
Kit typed out an explanation that she’d been catfished and Bridger wasn’t real, but another overwhelming wave of shame enveloped her, and she backed out of the text before she could send the message.
She tossed her phone onto the bed beside her and curled into a ball, drawing her knees to her chest.
And she fell apart in the safety of her solitude.
She was such a stupid girl who was never going to find the one.
Her phone vibrated, and the instant she saw Bridger’s name, the same instinctive excitement bubbled up in her chest before she remembered he wasn’t real.
The text from the catfishing couple said, We are so sorry.
We really messed up, but we had good intentions.
Bridger has been having a hard time, and we just had a good feeling about you.
Sorry. If you need anything, please ask. We want to make it up to you.
Go fuck yourselves. Both of you. Send.
She blocked their number. She just wanted to put all of this behind her as soon as humanly possible.
Needing to tie up all the loose ends, she connected a call to The Mark Bar and Grill, and waited the three rings it took someone to answer. “The Mark, this is Anna, what can I help you with?”
Anna was the one who hired her. Gah, this was going to be hard. She’d liked her during the Zoom call interviews. Anna was human but didn’t mind hiring a werewolf. She was even up for taking out the extra insurance businesses were required to in order to hire a werewolf.
This sucked.
“Hey, Anna, it’s Kit. I just—”
“Kit!” Anna said loudly. “Bartender Kit! Oh my gosh, I was just looking for your number. Are you a psychic?”
“Umm, no?”
“I know you aren’t supposed to start training until tomorrow, but we had both bartenders call out tonight. I need you, girl. Please tell me you are in town.”
“Ummm…”
“We’re going to be slammed and I’m desperate. Please. You can keep all the bar tips tonight. It’ll be chaos but I’ll help you from the front of the house as much as I can.”
“I just…I’m not dressed for—”
“Please.”
The pleading in Anna’s voice got her. Kit was nodding before she even said yes.
She could help her out tonight and then let her know in person she was going back to Alabama.
Then she could subtract her tips and send Bridger back that much money and feel better about it all.
Plan solidified in her mind, she asked Anna, “Dress code?”
“Jeans, hot top.”
“When do you need me there?”
“Half an hour ago.”
Kit wiped her cheeks and huffed a laugh. “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
She actually felt better with a plan and a challenge. She could avoid the pity party her brain would put her through tonight and could be productive instead. She could be around people and see smiles and make people happy, and that was her jam.
She rifled through her duffel bag and readied as fast as possible. She slathered on another layer of make-up and scrunched up her hair, put some hairspray in it for volume and practiced her customer service smile. Good enough. She would be locked in by the time she got there.
Kit grabbed her purse and bolted for the door.
Today, every single thing had gone wrong, but tonight, she could have some fun and take her mind off it all.