5

"What's so fucking important I had to cancel my lunch meeting and come straight here?" Jackson growled, pushing his dark hair back in frustration. His office almost felt foreign to him after spending the better part of a month attached to Senator Smith at the hip. The man had something for him to shadow at almost all hours of the day and Jackson was due for a long break.

He silently thanked the goddess that the man wasn't re-elected. He was a complete scumbag if Jackson had ever seen one and if those strange meetings in the middle of the night were a sign, he was likely laundering money too. How many times had Jackson had to run interference when Smith’s wife came to bring him lunch?

Funny how a few of Jackson’s well-placed contacts with loose lips brought down what was shaping up to be a landslide campaign against Smith’s competitors. Of all Smith’s failings, cheating on his wife was the nail in the coffin Jackson couldn’t ignore.

Wolves were faithful. Utterly devoted to their families. And as the Alpha, Jackson couldn’t turn a blind eye to someone so devoid of morals. That man wasn’t worthy of the title or the power he wielded.

Jackson prowled from one walled edge of windows to the other, restless and ready to decompress. He only had time to shower at the penthouse before his Beta called him in with an emergency.

The wolf in question watched with the bland amusement Jackson had come to associate with an oncoming headache.

“Any day now, Derrick,” he snapped. He'd been just about to meet Sheila at the penthouse before Derrick called, sounding like the cat that ate the canary. Now he was tired and horny and the two did not mix well for his patience.

"Lunch meeting huh? I didn't know Sheila was looking for security," Derrick snorted then rolled his neck. It was no secret that his Beta didn't care for Sheila, but he was always careful to watch the line of disrespect. Jackson glared but let it go. There was no love lost between the two.

He and Sheila had been on again off again for a handful of years and Derrick didn't think they were a longtime fit. He didn't particularly care for his Alpha trying to settle down with anyone who wasn't his mate either.

How many conversations had the two had about the propriety of waiting until his 30th birthday when the mate bond would fizzle out? How many ways did Jackson have to explain he wasn't even looking for his mate? He didn't trust those kinds of bonds. Never had, thanks to his parents. It had worked out for Derrick but there were plenty of wolves who it hadn't worked out for.

Wolves were supposed to revere their mates. They were supposed to be devoted. But much like the vows the slimy Senator took, there was nothing supernatural at work to ensure it was so. How many relationships had suffered because good wolves were shackled to selfish ones? Abusive ones. Dangerous ones.

Jackson preferred the idea of choosing someone for himself. It was how humans seemed to mate and there was no reason wolves couldn't do it as well. Finding a mate was harder than it had ever been. L.A. was just too big and the fact that his pack was one of the only to actually assimilate into regular human society, made the process harder. The only way anyone in his pack mated anymore was through the wolf socials he'd stopped going to years ago.

Most just settled down with people they knew, and he had no problem with that. Matings between wolves were still as ironclad as ever, so what did it matter if they were chosen mates and not the destined ones? From what he'd seen, Jackson was convinced the chosen mates worked out better in the long run anyway.

He'd seen many mated wolves from other packs that were miserable. And even being unmated, he was by far the best Alpha on the West Coast with the strongest pack and most successful business. There had to be something good behind his beliefs.

He was twenty-nine and far too grown to let the fairytale of mate bonds sway him anymore. The moon goddess was a nice belief but it wasn't reality. He didn't think there was someone behind the scenes choosing perfect matches.

Jackson's mother was gentle-natured and his father was a cold and merciless businessman. They'd been destined for ruin before they even began. Who the hell would purposefully put them together? It had been a nice dream when he was a pup, having someone made just for him. But real world problems called for real world solutions and Sheila understood that. She'd make a good Luna if they could make their schedules work for once.

"Did you hear what I said?" Derrick grumbled.

"Hm?" Jackson turned, awaiting the veiled impatience his Beta was known for. But there was only a sly smile.

"I said… we have a new prospective client..."

"We have new clients all the time. There’s no way in the pack world you dragged me all the way here under the guise of an emergency because we’re vetting a ‘new prospective client’. This couldn’t wait until after lunch?"

Derrick rolled his eyes and the growl that ripped out of Jackson shut down whatever his Beta was about to say. His expression dropped slightly, one hand raising to scratch behind his ears as he studied the floor. "Uh, Sorry Alpha.” He cleared his throat. “It’s just that our potential new client is a celebrity and I need your approval. It's not our usual sort of job but it's discreet and the contract is incredibly generous."

“What kind of celeb?”

His Beta wilted a little more. “She’s an actress.”

“We don’t do Hollywood.”

“I know, but she’s in danger and you always say we’re supposed to protect the defenseless if we can. Even if it isn’t always the smartest choice…”

"Well," Jackson rubbed at his jaw until his fingers burned. "I'm not inherently opposed if it's a low-profile case. Who is it?" Jackson walked around his desk to open a window, pulling his pack of smokes from his jacket pocket. He quickly lit and dragged a few puffs before Derrick could protest. It was yet another henpecking topic and Jackson really wasn't in the mood.

He could feel his Beta brightening from across the room. Asking for more information was tantamount to agreement and they both knew it.

"It's Mara-fucking-Luxe! From that movie we love… damn what's it called… something hot tub cheerleader something murder—"

"The movie you love—" Jackson corrected him with a sign.

"Whatever, man, you know her yes? You know the one that got stabbed?"

"It was a cut on her throat. Not a stab wound. You sound as bad as a teenage girl. And the movie is not called that," Jackson chuckled against his will. There was only so much he could resist of his Beta’s excitement. He turned, blowing a heavy cloud of smoke, "You just always love that damn scene where she's almost naked in the hot tub. It's called Slasher and it was trash. You and those fucking C-list horror movies, man. That's not even what she's known for."

"Fucking movie snob," Derrick grumbled, "Yea, Slasher that's the one I was thinking of! God the rack on her, whew..."

"Good to know you won't be working the case. You want her autograph or a blow job?"

"Fuck you, she's hot. A guy can daydream."

"Oh please repeat that when I call your mate," Jackson teased, "She'd probably hang your balls from the fire escape."

Derrick's face went pale as he looked towards the door nervously, "Don't joke like that. She hears everything, I swear. Can't scratch my ass in peace."

"She the one with the stalker?"

"Christie?"

"Mara dumbass. She's the one that got attacked a couple weeks back, right? She did a big movie that came out recently... fuck if I saw it but Sheila was batshit over it. And then she got attacked at that charity dinner. That's not a low-profile case, D. You sure the contract is discreet? I don't like too much attention on us..."

"Her agent, Richard something, emailed the details over today. Said she's a very private person and that she needs someone reliable and relatable. So we both know you're not going to make the cut," Derrick sneered, "He even sent over a whole list of 'must-nots'..."

"A list of what?"

"Must-nots. You know must not chew too loud, must not wear too much cologne. She's fucking picky. Full disclosure she's turned down fifteen other bodyguards over the last two weeks. Obviously, she's a damn diva. But the money is above market."

Jackson groaned, "Fuck." He stubbed his cigarette on the ledge and pondered for a moment, "Nah, not worth the headache, kick it back to another agency. Colton's firm usually takes on celebs, call him."

"That was my first thought but everybody else in the industry is icing her out. She's been through twelve companies already and I kind of already promised a preliminary meeting,” Derrick winced, "Maybe you could reserve judgment until you've sat down with them?"

"Okay, okay. If we do take the contract, I'm sure that Jason or Mark would jump for freaking joy at guarding a celeb like her. A contract like that might boost morale."

Derrick made a face that told Jackson he wouldn't like what came next, "That's the other thing... uh... because the contract is very specific. It's the kind of contract you said should only go to mated males. I was kind of busting your balls when I said you wouldn't take it... 'cause you're kind of... the only one who can..."

"It's a full-time gig?"

"Worse... live-in... a 24/7 job. And I know our policies but all of the mated males are currently already contracted out. Even I'm busy with the Worthington contract for at least another two months. So...that just leaves..."

"Me," Jackson sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and tossing his cigarette butt into the wind. The rules he'd set in place were clear but he had absolutely no desire to go back to a live-in contract so soon. And with a celeb who had a damn must-not list? But no unmated male could be a full-time bodyguard for a woman. He didn't want any hormones making a mess of the situation and tarnishing the company's good name. It was the only decent thing his father ever did with his life and it was Jackson's biggest pride.

Mixing business with pleasure was a no-go in general and with a celebrity that looked like Mara Luxe, there wasn't anyone else he'd trust but Derrick or him. Not only because he was the damn face of the company but because he had better control of his wolf than anyone else. The perks of being an Alpha.

"The meeting's tomorrow at eight," Derrick continued, Jackson didn't miss the devilish gleam in his eyes as if he already knew they were going to take the contract. "It's honestly not a bad offer, a travel allowance, generous compensation and the type of press you can't buy for the company. If this goes well, we could go global, man. With a face like Mara Luxe's on our books... I think it's worth the risk. And it's really not that bad for an unmated man like you. Imagine all the women you'll get to meet... maybe find your long-lost mate?"

"Mm," Jackson grunted in reply, lost in thought, "You know I'm not on the market. I'm with Sheila. How long is the contract for?"

"No hard deadline. Soft deadline of two months. Extensions could be ongoing but it depends on the police and their search for Miss Luxe's stalker. Her agent is obviously worried for her safety."

"Alright," Jackson sighed, resigning himself to the situation at hand, "I'll handle the first two months, then when your contract is up we can swap out. Send me the meeting details for the morning."

Derrick nodded, turning to leave.

"Oh and, D?" Jackson said, waiting for Derrick to turn back around, before smirking, "I'm taking a long lunch today."