She was horrified. Her chest tightened, palms sweating, head throbbing, but she couldn't make it stop. Couldn't control what was happening around her. Bear and her mother were getting drunk together.

"She is the same way!" her mom shouted.

Skylar's cheeks burned as faces turned their way. She offered them a cringing, apologetic smile. "Mom," she groaned, covering her face.

"It's true! She had to sleep with a night light until sixth grade," she whispered way too loudly. Bear erupted in laughter.

"I wasn't that bad. I just needed my bedroom door open." She wanted to die.

A woman entered the stage from the side, and the crowd went absolutely silent. Bear leaned over while her mother was distracted and whispered, "That's my sister." She shivered. His lips just barely grazed the shell of her ear, leaving hot breaths in its wake as he pulled back. His mouth curved up, seeing her visible reaction.

"She's beautiful," she muttered. She was. They shared the same dark wheat hair. The same lithe bodies that seemed to glide rather than walk. She wore a floor length dress that trailed behind her when she moved across the stage. Its silky fabric of lace and cream was expertly tailored to fit every curve of her hips and legs. Sparkling diamonds decorated her wrists, neck, and ears. 

Bear smiled. He leaned back, letting his arms splay out over the counter of the bar, and watched his sister grab the microphone. "Good evening," cheers went up, "how is everyone doing?" More cheers. "I just got back from my holiday in Arizona, and I thought to myself, I wonder how everyone back home in Roman Ridge is doing. So I flew back to see for myself." Whistles and shouts of, "Ridger! Ridger!" echoed.

"How old is she?" 

A proud grin split over his sharp face. "Nineteen," he said, beaming. "Aleia is the best, listen," he urged, motioning to where his sister stood, readying to sing.

The voice that came out of her was otherworldly. It was like listening to an angel, and not a single eye was taken off her. "That was incredible," her mother said, astounded at the performance.

"She's been taking singing lessons since she was six," Bear explained. "Singing at Romulus was her first job in high school."

Her mother shot her a look and smiled. "She worked in high school?" Skylar pinched the bridge of her nose. "I was just telling Skylar that she should think about getting a job soon."

Bear's brows quirked up. "Really? Thinking about applying at the juice bar?" Her mom completely missed the hidden meaning in his words. 

"I don't know," she replied smoothly. "I don't really know where to start applying." She tucked her hair behind her ear and Bear's eyes followed her hand. 

His throat bobbed before he said, "Why don't you apply at my company?"

Her mom's eyes went wide. "Because I'm not qualified for any of the positions." She laughed the notion, but Bear's face remained stoic.

"Its not all scientists and geniuses down there. Actually, my last assistant, Natalia, moved to Boston a few months ago, and I haven't had good luck with the temps they keep sending me."

"She's always early! Never on time!" her mother slurred loudly.

"You'd hire me to be your assistant?" Her brows knit together. "But I have no experience," she mumbled.

Bear shrugged. "I like my coffee black, so you don't have to remember a twelve step order when you pick up drinks." A smile cracked on his handsome face. "Plus, I could use a late shift assistant to finish what these temps keep leaving behind. How fast can you type?"

Skylar went to open her mouth, but her mom blurted out, "Super fast! You should see her text!"

"Mom, stop, please," she said, flushing a bit. "I don't want any hand outs," she told Bear seriously.

He let a crooked smirk overtake him as he said, "I wouldn't dream of it." They stared each other down for some time before he broke the silence. "What'd you say? How does four to ten work for you? Say...Monday, Wednesday, Friday? With room for improvement, of course."

"Of course!" Her mom gripped her shoulders and shook her roughly. "Sky, be more gracious! He's offering you a job that will look amazing on your resume!" 

"I make a hell of a reference," Bear said with a wink. Her mom was too sloshed to notice.

Taking a deep breath, Skylar let her head fall into her hands. "Okay," she grumbled into her palms, "I'll do it."

"Excellent!" Bear clapped her on the back and she flinched. His hand lingered, burning on her skin, before he finally dropped it back on the counter behind her. She wasn't blind to the eyes on them now that Aleia wasn't performing anymore. The attention went right back to the prince of Gore Palace--an awful moniker. "Can you start tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" She chewed on her lower lip, turning over her options in her mind. She ditched the girls for her mom, and now she was going to do it again for a job. A job that she would be working directly for Bear Cruor. SHe internally cringed, thinking of how to even begin to word that to them.

"You'll start tomorrow at four." His emerald orbs bore into hers with such intensity. She felt her body warm under his gaze.

"I'll start tomorrow at four," she repeated, not entirely sure of what she was saying.

"Perfect," he stood up, emptying the last bit of rum from his glass, "I'll see you then."

-------

"What!" Charlie squealed at the news. "You're going to work for him!" Skylar had to move the phone away from her ear as her friend screeched.

"Starting tomorrow after school. Hey, do you think Teresa could give me a ride?"

"No can do," Charlie's lips smacked, chewing something, "she's gone on some family weekend thingy. They do it every year right before Thanksgiving. I think it's so they don't have to do some big mundane meal with people they can't stand, so they just get a hotel in Mexico and do their own thing."

"I wish my family did that," Skylar sighed. 

"I bet Jake could drive you. He doesn't work until six," Charlie whistled into the phone.

Skylar grimaced at the sharp sound and mved the phone again. "I told you I'm not a dog, Charlie. What?" She recognized Jake's raspy voice in the background and paled.

"You don't have to ask him," she got out quickly.

"Shut up," Charlie hushed her. "Can you take Skylar somewhere tomorrow after school?"

"Sure, where?"

A pause. "Gore Palace," Charlie sang.

Yeah sure," he agreed, and Skylar loosed a breath at his willingness.

A door clicked shut on Charlie's end and she returned to her bubbly self. "So what are you going to wear? Oh I know! You should wear something of your mom's! You know, look all professional and shit."

Skylar giggled. "I think I'm just going to stick with my usual clothes."

Charlie gasped. "No! Are you insane? You're going to wear Converse and knit sweaters to Gore Palace? Everyone there dresses like supermodels. Borrow. Your. Mom's. Clothes." Skylar winced as each word was shouted into the receiver.

"Alright, alright, I will," she gave in. "I have to go, someone's calling me."

"Ooh, who?"

Bear's name flashed on her phone. "My dad," she lied.

"Boring," Charlie said before hanging up.

"Hello?" She jumped out f bed, already feeling flustered. He'd texted her, but she'd never actually had a phone call with him. Her nerves were frazzled, her heart beating out of control.

"Answer that," he said casually.

"Answer wh--" The doorbell rang. He said nothing while she went to the front door. Her parents had gone out for drinks to continue the celebration. It was just her, and the basic satellite package her dad had splurged on for television.

"Skylar Carrow?" A man in a navy blue jumper stood with a long, white box in his gloved hands.

"Yes?" Her eyes narrowed.

"Package for you," he said, extending the box to her. 

"Oh," she balanced the phone between her ear and shoulder and took the box, "thanks."

"I thought you could use it for tomorrow." She opened the box and gasped. Nestled within blue velvet was an entire outfit. Strappy heels in lavender suede, a black pinstriped pencil skirt, and a matching lavender blouse. "We have a dress code," he explained.

"Is the dress code Meryl Streep in The Devil Wears Prada?" She lifted the materials and gaped at the price tags still attached. "I can't accept this, it's too much."

"Well I guess you could always wear your Converse," he teased.

"You didn't have to do this for me," she muttered. "Any of it."

"I know," she could hear the smile in his voice, "I wanted to." She didn't know what to say to that. Another knock sounded on the door, and she pulled it open half expecting another gift.

"I can return them if you like." Bear grinned down at her from her doorway and hung up the phone. "If purple isn't your color."

It took her a moment to let her own phone drop away from her ear. "I--"

Bear waved a hand dismissively. "Before you say anything, let me explain. I'm not in the business of giving hand outs. In fact, I'm actually known as quite the prick." He wagged his brows at her and she scoffed. "I really am looking for an assistant, and you're looking for a job. We could help each other out. I can train you on the down low, and you can save me the month long headache that is my hiring process."

Skylar took a step back as he entered her home. Anxiety settled in. His home must have been something out of a magazine. She looked around at her stained walls and dirty floors. "But the clothes--"

"Were purchased with a company credit card." His eyes caught hers and held them, his pupil nothing more than pinpricks. "It was only a thought I had. Everyone that works there is a reflection of me and my work. I like my employees to dress nicely."

"Employees," Skylar repeated with a breathy laugh. Bear smirked and leaned against the entryway wall. "Wait, how did you know where I lived?"

His smile didn't falter. "Your dad works for me. I pulled his file."

Skylar shook her head. "Stalker," she quipped.

"Boss," he corrected, winking. 

"Boss," she said, swallowing. He was staring at her, his green eyes flicking from her lips to her eyes and...

"Your eyes are two different colors." 

It caught her off guard. "They're brown," she said shortly.

His thumb came up and he bent down to get a better view. She could smell his minty breath, feel its heat on her skin as his warm hands caressed her face. "No," he said softly, "one is green in the center. Beautiful," he breathed.

Her lashes fluttered under the compliment and she was acutely aware of the heat rising in her cheeks. She looked down at the floor--anywhere but back up at him. Back up at his parted lips, his burning gaze, his noticeably hungry eyes. He took the hint and stepped back. "Sorry," she apologized, trying to laugh off the awkwardness.

Bear didn't seem to feel as odd. He had a cocky, satisfied look on his face. The angles of his cheekbones were sharpened by his wide smile. "I'll see you at work tomorrow," he uttered the words in a husky voice, backing out the opened door. "Sleep well, Skylar."