My Mystery Mate is My Boss

Chapter 2: The Search Begins

Grace’s POV

 Daniel's question made my heart sink.

"I got eliminated for that position. Apparently, I don't meet the hiring requirements."

"Sounds like bullshit, but okay." Daniel was just about to say something when he was interrupted by Rachel's voice. Rachel had come back and teased.

Rachel and I were also good friends. I wasn't angry at all when she said that.

"You know DF Cosmetics is one of the strictest companies in the world. They have incredibly high standards."

Rachel washed her hands while joining us in the cooking process.

“I’ve seen you on the floor of the Makeup Emporium where you work. You HAVE to be making up 50% of their sales,” Rachel pointed out as she scooped a big heap of skillet bake onto her plate while Daniel and I joined her at the table.

“Hey, leave some for the rest of us,” he teased.

“They only accept people with Master’s degrees.”

“That sucks. You would’ve been great for the job, Master’s or otherwise.” Rachel frowned.

“It’s fine. I didn’t even get the position,” I waved off. “Really, it was just one of those pipe dream applications. Gotta at least try, you know?” I shrugged, taking a bite of dinner.

“You dodged a bullet, at least. DF has so many rumors,” Rachel bemoaned. “A company that big will have some, but their boss stars in way too many.”

“Yeah, get this! The newest rumor I heard was that DF’s boss is a pervert who requires all DF employees to have a body fat percentage of 15.5%.”

I almost spat out my drink, coughing into my napkin.

“What the f**k?”

“That’s what I said!”

“There’s no way that could be real,” I denied.

“I don’t know, Grace, we thought that last one was fake, but when it came out as real…woof.” Daniel made a face. “Still, the president of DF, a big shot of Wall Street, owner of three malls, and even involved in the restaurant business, this man is everywhere! He’s all anyone ever talks about since DF became a billion-dollar corporation.”

“Make that multi-billion. AND let’s not forget the fact that he never shows up in person, doesn’t have any personal media accounts, no one knows what he looks like, but he still has women pursuing him,” Rachel said in a hushed, dramatic tone, and I rolled my eyes.

“And your point is…”

“I think the only reason he’s never appeared in public is because he’s ugly.”  

“Oh, no. Ugly. How horrid,” Daniel deadpanned. “Rachel, he’s rich as f**k. No one gives a s**t if he’s ugly.”

“Hey! My idea has merit.”

“Suuuuure.”

“Grace! Back me up!”

“Rach, people marry for money.”

“Oh, right, forget about that.” She laughed sheepishly. “So~ how IS the married life?”

“The contract married life,” Daniel corrected. “Honestly, I thought there’d be more…you know, husband, in this whole ‘marriage for money’ thing.”

“Oh, come on, we both know it was more of a ‘contract marriage for money’ thing and not a ‘dying wish’ thing,” Rachel said pointedly.

“Aww, don’t worry about me,” I snorted, standing up with my empty plate. “I don’t need a man around when I have you two to help me cook and clean while we’re all out being breadwinners.” I leaned over, throwing my arms over their shoulders, still holding my plate.

“That’s not what we’re trying to talk about~!” Rachel called as I moved to dump my dishes in the sink.

I knew exactly what they were trying to discuss, but it wasn’t like I had any answers.

A year ago, my adoptive mother was diagnosed with an aggressive form of ovarian cancer. She needed immediate treatment. 

Back then, we had just escaped our old pack and were accepted into the Blood Moon pack. Our positions were precarious, our funds were nearly nonexistent, and we didn’t really have anyone but ourselves to rely on.

Mom had wanted me to get married, it was her last wish before she died, but I was…stubborn, and, well, my mother hadn’t stated that it needed to be for love.

Young, foolish, and more than desperate, I came up with the idea of a contract marriage. It wasn’t the strangest thing, not with all the packs and political marriages among them.

So, I decided to look for a husband while doing my best to find one that was willing to pay for my mother’s surgery. It was the only clause I had for my future partner.

I’d gotten plenty of responses from one of the secure solicitation websites Rachel had helped me post on, but none of the offers were good or what I needed, until HIM.

A private chat, barely a hello before he laid out his demands, but none of them were s****l, which was what initially caught my attention when every other offer had been.

He could help me, give me the amount I was asking for—needed, but he didn’t want s*x, and I wouldn’t have to sleep with him. His only condition was to marry him.

It sounded too good to be true. My mother’s surgery and recovery treatment would cost a lot of money, but I had nothing to lose by meeting him, so I agreed to a secondary location to discuss the terms. It felt like a real blessing from the Moon Goddess that he was actually legit.

Legit in the way I met up with the man’s ATTORNEY instead of the man himself, but the documents were real, the money was real, and all I had to do was sign. Everything seemed to be in my favor, so I signed the contract and took the money.

I immediately put it to use and cried when my mother was responsive to the treatment. Even if I hadn’t been able to meet my new husband in person, I was grateful for what he’d done.

His lawyer told me that we'd meet after he finished his current project, so I waited. I was still waiting, actually.

“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’m off to my night shift.”

“Bye, Grace.”

“Good luck, working on Valentine’s Day.”

“Ha! Yeah, yeah, wish me luck for dealing with all the lovey-dovey couples I have to cater to,” I snorted, waving goodbye and hurrying into my beat-up buggy. It was no use waiting for a mate who might never show. I was a big girl. I could take care of myself.

Richard’s POV

What would one do when their mate was cheating on them?...Possibly cheating on them—but I knew what I heard! I didn’t see anything, but still, that was definitely a man living with her.

If I could just figure out who she’d been with—but even that would’ve been a bust. I couldn’t sense pheromones, hadn’t been able to for almost a year. Brokering peace during a war hadn’t been easy, but I’d done it. I just hadn’t come out unscathed.

A ceremonial battle between alphas might’ve fostered a promise and peace treaty, better together as allies and all that bullshit. Still, I’d taken some nasty blows to my face, one that broke my nose and screwed up my ability to sense pheromones.

Even now, I was still injured, and my wolf couldn’t do anything about it. Even though we had a mate, we didn’t know her well enough to sense her or track her scent.

It was an irksome dilemma since it would have been so much easier if I could just smell if she had cheated and been unfaithful, but Alan had at least been sympathetic when I stormed back into my office.

He distracted me before my temper could make me do something I’d regret.

Now, we were going to one of the malls the pack owned to examine the employees.

While it was a different business from DF, it was still under the pack and company’s purview and would be held to the same standards.

So there I was, in the mall, irritated beyond belief. The heart motifs didn't help my mood, and the distraction wasn’t doing what I hoped. I didn’t know how to deal with what I heard, let alone fix it or confront my wife.

As I inspected the stores and workers, noting which ones needed more training and whatnot, I passed by a perfumery, the smell of vanilla catching my attention.

It was a pleasant scent, warm and inviting. Then I froze, whipping around, looking at the store where the scent was coming from. Because my nose was damaged, I didn’t smell pheromones—in fact, I could barely smell anything at all.

So, why the hell could I smell this—and who exactly was it coming from?

The scent was coming from a makeup store, and it didn’t take long for me to pick out its owner. It was one of the sales attendants.

A woman with her hair pulled into an immaculate bun with a few curls framing her face. She was dressed in black kitten heels, a pencil skirt, a white blouse, and a shiny name tag, ‘Grace’ in black font.

She was an attractive woman, but her scent…I couldn’t help myself as I stepped into the store. I needed to get closer, to understand why her scent was registering with me and what it meant.

“Hello, I’m Grace. Welcome to the Cosmetics Emporium. We boast the widest selection of cosmetics of any store. What can I do for you?” She came over and greeted me with a professional smile.

“…I’m looking for a new lotion,” I said after a moment. “Facial lotion, for a daily routine. I want one that doesn’t leave an oily residue—unscented, and I don’t want anything that’s tinted.”

“Of course, sir.” She smiled, despite my demands. “A light moisturizer would be perfect for you then, especially since your skin is already so clear. These three would suit you, un-tinted, full coverage, and perfect for regular use.”

“Which is better?” I asked, wondering how she’d answer, each one was honestly a good choice.

“Well, it depends on what you’re looking for. The first is a moisturizing toner that uses mushroom extract to help your skin's natural glow. The second is meant for morning use and has SPF 15, while the last is DF’s newest product from the Cloud Collection, with a guaranteed lightness. It’s more expensive, but it delivers and even helps restore your moisture barrier.”

“Hm…I don’t need so many, though. I’m surprised you recommended the most expensive moisturizers in the store.” I commented, but even that didn’t trip her up.

“Our high-end products for a high-end customer,” she explained coolly. “The watch you’re wearing is a Rolex diving watch, the newest model, and most are still on a waitlist for theirs. You have a keen gaze, a decisive step, and knew exactly which product I was showing you.”

“…You have a talent for sales,” I complimented, watching her smile turn a tad real before regaining her professional stance.

“Thank you, sir.”

Minutes later, I was leaving the shop with a moisturizer I didn’t need, and my thoughts caught on the doe-eyed attendant. She wasn’t the prettiest woman I’d ever seen, but something about her was attractive, and not just her scent.

She wasn’t intimidated by me and remained wholly professional, even when dealing with a furious customer who wanted to complain about the store’s products, only to leave with more of them.

She wasn’t just professional, she was competent, and I needed something like that.

“Welcome back, what’s that?” Alan asked as I handed him the bag and lotion.

“Face lotion. Never mind that, though, take the receipt and look through our employee profiles. The name Grace, Cosmetics Emporium. Do a quick background check for me.”

Alan looked confused but did as asked.

“Okay…Grace Fitzgerald. 25, joined the pack about a year ago. She applied for a position at DF but was rejected on account of not having a master's.”

“Rescind that.”

“What?”

“Have her come in for the interview. I want her as my new assistant.” I said simply. It was honestly the best answer I could give him.