Page 1 of Stolen By The Beast
Chapter One
Juniper
Liftingmycellphonescreen above my head, I turned in a slow circle and chanted a plea that I’d get even just a single bar of reception.
I didn’t.
The universe hated me. That was the only explanation I could come up with for the utter crapshow of an evening I’d suffered through.
Trekking through the woods at 2 a.m., while hangry, wasn’t my idea of a good time. Things had been bad enough before the rain had started, and then it had swan-dived into pure misery.
All I wanted was to go home and soak my aching body in a steamy bubble bath. But at this point, I’d be lucky to even get back to my apartment before sunrise.
The rain had quickly turned the hard-packed, dry earth into a muddy mess. With each step I took, I was forced to pull my two-inch heels free from the mud’s powerful suction.
Pushing back the scraggly strands of my long blonde hair, I blew out a humorless laugh. What a sight I made, wandering around in the dark while dressed like a teacher from a prairie schoolhouse over a hundred years ago… except sluttier.
The long overskirt should’ve had a puffy petticoat playing peek-a-boo beneath it, but that had been purposely overlooked by my boss.
While the skirt covered everything in the back, it had a large upside-down V-shaped gap in the front that nearly reached to my crotch. The front slit also gave a great view of the thigh-high stockings and garters that were part of my costume.
Unfortunately, the top wasn’t much better. It was cut low enough that it was guaranteed to create more serious trust issues than a cheating ex in anyone who dared to wear it.
I wasn’t fully furnished on the top floor like my two co-workers, but I’d still spent most of the evening shooting warning glances at my sweater puppies in case they dared to peek out of the freakishly low top.
The ensemble was finished off with a set of vintage-styled ankle boots with ridiculous spiked-heels.
“Freaking idiotic men!” I growled, yanking the clingy skirt from my legs.
Why had my boss thought this catering gig was worth it?
The company I worked for, Catering with Character, also known as CwC, took pride in their over-the-top themed parties. The food and decor were picked based on the party concept the client wanted. And for each event, the staff dressed up in character to create the full package.
We’d dressed as pirates for a boy’s hospital homecoming, mermaids for a little girl’s birthday, aliens for an out-of-this-world neighborhood block party, Sherlock Holmes’s book characters for a ladies afternoon tea party, and too many others to remember.
If I was being honest, I’d thoroughly enjoyed participating in all the parties.
Well, almost all of them.
It was the parties that requested only female staff and had only male guests in attendance that I preferred to skip.
The employee contracts we had with CwC were crystal clear. We were staff, not call-girls or escorts, and under no circumstances was the staff to be manhandled by party guests.
Tonight’s particular client, Mr. Telker, tended to have parties where the men got flirty and a bit handsy after a few drinks. Our boss refused to fire him as a client, no doubt because of the Telker’s standing in the community… and his thick wallet.
I would have skipped this event, but since we were paid a salary and only worked a few days a month, the contract didn’t allow me to opt out of serving at parties. It also required us to wear the ‘uniform’ assigned to us.
And that’s how I ended up serving appetizers for the one client I couldn’t stand, while wearing an outfit that was far too revealing. Telker had decided to host this year’s event at a hunting lodge in the middle of a forest in butt-fart nowhere.
Maybe I’d quit. After the night I’d had, any job sounded better than this one. Although, there was no denying the tips were insanely good. But they weren’t good enough to make me forget this disastrous evening.
We’d driven for nearly two hours into the woods for Telker’s event, and it had started off fine. The guests had been respectful of the staff, and we’d set out the themed buffet and began to serve drinks.
The other four girls and myself managed to swat away the random wandering hand and politely brush off requests for our numbers. It was after dessert that things took a nose-dive off a steep cliff into Crapville.
Telker himself noticed me, and while his friends were easily turned down, he was far more stubborn. He had gotten it into his head that since he was paying my salary, I owed it to him to be open to his advances.
Over the next two hours, his flirting and teasing had taken on a harsher note as I continued to decline his advances. Twice, Telker had grabbed me around the waist and pulled me against him under the guise of dancing, but I hadn’t missed the way he’d ground himself against me.
