Page 6 of Bearly Frosty

“I was sunning myself in bear form when she stumbled upon me,” he growls and points at the door. “Why don’t you leave so I can start the interview?”

“But… but…” Gianna stutters, “I’m supposed to stay and help you with the interview.”

But her brother cuts her off. “No buts. I can handle this on my own.”

I’m not going to lie; my fight-or-flight response is telling me to leave with Gianna. I suddenly have the feeling my life will never be the same.

Once the door closes behind her, I feel the four walls closing in around us. This office is at least twice the size of my apartment back home, but I’m suddenly feeling claustrophobic. “Have a seat, little goddess.”

“Why do you keep calling me that?” I ask as I walk over and sit on the large brown leather sofa.

“It just fits you.” He walks around the desk and sits in the huge desk chair.

“How so?”

“Because you somehow managed to run away from me yesterday before I pulled my head out of my ass and found out your name.”

“Oh.” Yeah. I don’t really have a response to that.

“Tell me about yourself.” The speed at which he changes subjects causes my head to spin, but I take a deep breath and force myself into interviewing mode.

“What would you like to know?”

“Everything.”

That narrows it down so much. “I’m a recent graduate from NYU. I majored in Business with a minor in Marketing.” I start reeling off all my college accomplishments on autopilot.

“What made you want to take a job in Glacier Pass?”

Great, the one question I was dreading. Do I tell him the truth or make up some BS excuse?

“I… uh…” I bite my bottom lip and start again. “I’m tired of living in a big city and wanted to try something new.”

I’m pretty impressed with my answer until I watch his dark brown eyes narrow as he stares back at me. “Why don’t you try again, and this time tell me the truth.”

Huh? My hackles rise and I’m unable to stop myself from asking, “What makes you think I’m not telling the truth?”

“You have a very expressive face, Emilia, and I can tell you’re hiding something.”

Darn. His internal lie detector is a pain in my rear. “I started looking for jobs far away from New York City because I’m trying to get away from a stalker.”

“Stalker? Is it an ex-boyfriend of yours?” Anger radiates from him in waves, and I have the sudden urge to explain the situation before the hot polar bear shifter implodes.

“No.” This whole interview has gone completely off the rails. “It’s my sister’s ex-boyfriend.” The truth sounds stupid, but I’m in too far to stop now. “I have no idea why he suddenly decided to start stalking me when they broke up.”

“Has he hurt you?”

“No,” I automatically answer and realize we’re getting way off track here. “But what does that have to do with me getting a job with you?”

I feel like I’ve suddenly stepped into the twilight zone here.

“Fuck the job.” His roar fills the large room around us. “I don’t give a fuck about anything else but you.”

“Huh?” I’m betting I look like one of those funny memes right now.

“You’re my goddamn mate, and I won’t have some asshole threatening you.”

“Hold on a minute. What do you mean I’m your mate?” Now I know I’m in a crazy dream, and I’m not too sure I want to wake up.

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