Page 157 of Drama Queen

If the woman thought that was a threat, she could think again. Firstly, Charlotte could organise all of that in her sleep. Secondly, it was no longer her concern.

“Not my job,” Charlotte said, smirking back at her. “It would have been if you’d sacked me, but I resigned, effective immediately, which means I’m not held accountable for it. I guess it really does pay to read the fine print. Maybe you should start doing that Grace.”

The wolf shifter glared at her defiantly.

Charlotte laughed in her face. “What am I saying? You’ll never do that, it’s why you get into half the shit you do.”

With that parting shot, Charlotte opened the door and got out. There really was nothing more to be said. Her heart ached at the thought of having failed, but her pulse surged in anger with the knowledge she never had a chance. Not really. Grace listened to nobody but her own whims, and Charlotte had just been too slow to realise it.

Now it was time to do what she’d threatened. Find someone better to represent the shifters, and get their campaign started. Elections were just over a year away, and that was barely enough time to get the ball rolling.

She’d win. Charlotte would do everything in her power to ensure it. Grace didn’t stand a chance.

Charlotte

The feelingof euphoria and freedom lasted all of five minutes. At least long enough for her to walk into the nearest cafe and get herself some coffee. As soon as she sat down, however, reality decided to intrude.

There were multiple texts on her phone and several missed calls, and the first one she answered was the one Charlotte dreaded the most.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Leonard Styles roared down the line. The lion shifter was bull-headed and elitist at best, misogynistic and blindly obstinate at worst. “That speech was an unmitigated disaster, if Grace doesn’t sack you, I will.”

“Given that she went entirely off-script,” Charlotte snapped, her pulse picking up again, “I’d have to agree. But as I just told her to shove her job up her arse, it’s your problem now.”

She hung up on him without waiting for a reply.

Of course, he tried to call her back, but Charlotte simply rejected the call. And the next five.

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” some guy asked from the table next to her. “It’s fucking annoying.”

“I just quit my job,” Charlotte told him. “In fact, I think I told the head of the shifter council to shove it. My phone is on silent and in my handbag, so gimme a break, please? I’m having a bad day.”

He eyed her up and down, clearly not buying her story, so she took her phone out of her bag and showed him the screen where Leonard’s name was flashing determinedly.

“Now google to see who that is if you don’t already know,” she told him. “Even better, look up Grace Diaz, I’m sure you’ll be able to find multiple pictures of her with me in the background. In fact, after this morning’s shitshow, you’ll probably find a whole heap of crap about me and the poor job I’m doing writing her speeches.”

He snorted, reaching for his own phone while she rejected Leonard’s call again.

It was one thing to mouth off to Grace, finally venting the frustration she’d been harbouring for months. It was quite another to follow through with her threats. It would have been better if she’d held her peace for now, plotting and organising until she could have left on safer ground, yet Charlotte couldn’t truly regret her actions. She might be starting a new path a lot sooner than she’d expected, but it didn’t mean she was on the wrong one.

Rejecting Leonard’s call again, she flicked through her contacts, looking for the right one. Samuels, Saunders…Simpson! Yet just as her finger hovered over the dial button, Leonard called again, and her finger was close enough for her phone to detect, answering the call before she could stop it.

“Don’t hang up,” was the first panicked words Charlotte heard as she reluctantly drew the phone to her ear.

“Sir?” The voice sounded like the president of the shifters, but the tone was certainly not one she was expecting.

“There’s been a development, something neither of us could have foreseen, and yet we should have. Please, Ms Bailey, I need to meet with you urgently. If you agree to hear me out, I promise I’ll get you the job of your dreams, whether you help me or not.”

This didn’t make sense. The head of the shifter government, the most powerful shifter on the planet, was calling her, practically begging for help? No, it had to be a trick. Somehow, someone had hacked his phone — and got a voice actor convincing enough to sound like him.

“Ms Bailey, I am a proud man. A powerful man too. Do not make me beg,” he rumbled.

Yet wasn’t that exactly what he was doing? Her mind stuttered, unable to process what was happening. Today was just too much, even for her.

“Is that really you, Mr Styles? I’m finding it difficult to believe this isn’t a prank,” she finally replied.

A deep sigh sounded down the line. “A prank,” he said softly, sighing again. “I fucking wish it was.”

“Sir?” she queried again. “Are you alright? Do I need to call someone? Should I be instigating code black or something?”

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