Part Two. Chapter Six. Eric.

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I was sitting in my office, behind my desk, trying to ignore the paperwork that was building up to one side. I flicked through them when it was proved that I could not. Wait, weren't there application forms to join the gym in amongst them? "Sylvie?" I yelled out to my assistant. "Why are you giving these forms to me?"

My office was probably a little extravagant for a gym. There were the expected items: the filing cabinet where I hid the utility bills and complaint letters (not that there was many and most mentioned a missing item in the vending machine like Oreos or Type AB positive), the computer on my desk and a waste paper bin filled with junk mail. I didn't need to know what deals were available at the nearby trade store, I didn't need another menu from the local Chinese takeaway and I really did not want to hire a gardening team, I had a maintenance crew for that sort of thing.

But I also had a large sofa bed against one wall... just in case Michael decided to 'workout' in his spare time and the door next to that lead to a large ensuite shower room. I wasn't about to go to the men's locker room and use the communal showers. Then there was the side table, with my own personal coffee machine sitting on its surface and it's drawers contained my snacks, mostly chocolate ones. There was also the huge photograph on the wall of a massive orange and black striped tiger and a stunning silver wolf. Family portrait. That would need to be updated soon.

My assistant came wobbling in on those nine inch heels she insists on wearing. To be fair, she is really lacking in height otherwise, but her small feet just were not made for human shoes. "What's wrong, boss," She asked, pushing her gold rimmed glasses up her pert nose.

"Why do I have to deal with application forms?" I asked with a slight whine. "Isn't that why I hired more admin staff?"

She raised one excellently shaped eyebrow. "You haven't hired them yet," she informed me. "Those are the application forms for the potential employees. There is also the bank statement, the phone bill and a few arrears letters to sign. Some of your regulars are getting complacent. Really, you should make them set up direct debits, I know they are your friends and all..."

"But they always pay eventually," I dismissed her concerns. Some of those people were self-employed, lone shifters and vampires. Earning a regular income was more difficult than she realised when you were used to the pack or pride or flock bailing you out or lending you cash while you were desperate. I let loose another sigh.

The little dwarf clicked over to me and climbed into the chair opposite. "You're really out of sorts today, Eric," she said, leaning forward as she spoke. "What's wrong? Is Michael not letting you top again?"

"That's not it," I complained with a growl. "I have a mate."

"I thought Michael was your mate," she said, confused.

"He is," I replied. "But he found out that we have another mate, but hasn't let me see him yet!"

"I'm confused," Sylvie admitted. I don't blame her, it was confusing enough for us to accept it and we were living it. "You and Michael are mates, paired together by your Goddess, right? Not chosen mates?" Chosen mates are those we picked ourselves, generally because we have gone far too long mateless. And those who rejected their Goddess given mates chose a mate for themselves. But they will never be as happy, never feel as complete as they would with their fated pair.

"We are fated mates," I confirmed. "Michael was totally stunned when he met our other mate, I've never seen him so lost for words. But he says the boy is skittish, thinks that he might have been rejected by his first mate and wants to take things slow." My tiger roared in my head his impatience and I had to agree with him. "He's taking too long about it."

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