Claimed by my Lycan Boss

"This way, please, Miss Evans. Our hiring manager is waiting for you." I took a steadying breath, glancing at my reflection in the large mirror at the lobby. Hourglass curves accentuated by my tailored blazer, the same color as my navy slacks. Nude pump heels helped show off a round ass I had spent months in the gym working for. Confident in my appearance, I followed the timid receptionist to the 10th floor of a large building overlooking the Strip. Sin City. I watched, stone faced, as I waited for the hiring manager to greet me. Cars zipped along the road, people like stumbling little ants making their way down the sidewalk. At face value, Las Vegas was little more than a self indulgent tourist trap, designed to make people from all over the country, all over the world, waste thousands of dollars on a hazy, drunken memory. At its worst, down at the dregs of the city, the seedy underbelly that made Las Vegas what it truly was, it was a dangerous, filthy world full of deception and deceit. It made me sick to think about. I longed to find a way out of the city that had stolen so much from me, but I couldn't leave just yet. When the elevator arrived at the 10the floor, I stepped out of it and almost bumped into someone. I tried to stop my footstep, which made me slip and fell down to the ground. Then the guy gave me a hand by wrapping his hand wround my waist. “Thanks for your help.” I appreciated his help with my heart. He turned his back to me and kept moving forward. “The tricks were not smart enough.” What did he mean? He thought I was using slippery as a trick to seduce him? Who did he think he was? Why should I have to do this to him? I didnt’ see his face and anger urged me to catch up with this guy to see what a disgusting face he had. But I finally stopped myself from doing so, because I still remembered I had a more important thing to deal with. The interview. "I’m Judy, your hiring manager. Miss Evans, I must admit, I'm rather impressed by your resume." The hiring manager was a smartly dressed young woman in her late-twenties, with short black hair and dark, expressive brows. She wore a bright red lipstick that accentuated her sneer. “You can just call me Amara, and thank you," I answered, ignoring Judy’s unfriendly tone. I had no idea why she was a bit hostile towards me, but I wasn't here to get into a fight. "I see you're a second year MBA student. The transcript you've attached is quite… eye-catching," Judy continued. "Thank you again," I repeated. "It does make me wonder, why would someone like you want to take up a job as a bartender? I mean, I can see that you've done this before, but it seems like you might want to pursue an internship in your field. I find it hard to believe that you couldn't attain something like that." Judy’s words were complimentary, but her tone was testing. I knew it and I’d prepared for that question. I wasn't here for the money, I wasn't here because all I aspired to be was a bartender. I was here because I was after a person. Hale Rowe.The owner of the Eclipse Nightclub. However, it of course wouldn't do me any good to admit something like that to her, so I replied with my pre-planned answer. "I like the flexibility of bartending. It allows me to study during the day and make good tips at night," I lied. Well, only half a lie. It was a fact that I could study during the day – even though we were still on Summer break and I wouldn't have to worry about my studies for a few more months – and tips always seemed to flow when I was behind the bar, but it wasn't about either of that. "Well, I can't argue with that.” She nodded. “Let me see your skills. We're not just looking for some tart to make drinks and pass them out. At the Eclipse, we like bartenders to have a little...flair. I would like you to show me what you've got. Now, please collect your belongings and follow me." She took me into the elevator, scanned her security badge and pressed the button "Club". When the elevator door opened again, we were about to enter one of the most exclusive nightclubs in Vegas. It was in the middle of the day and the club was only accessible for employees. I followed her to step behind the enormous bar in the center of the floor, and studied the supplies. "Any requests?" I asked. "Make me an old fashioned," she commanded. I set to work. I selected a sugar cube and placed it in the center of the fat, round whiskey glass. Grabbing a bottle of whiskey, I tossed it behind my back and caught it at my opposite shoulder when I heard a set of heavy footsteps echoing in the air. Judy’s head snapped from watching me to the source of the sound, but I refused to be distracted at this moment. I poured a long shot of whiskey into the glass, watching it dissolve the sugar cube before grabbing a bottle of bitters and splashing a little bit of it into the glass. Judy’s attention was not at all with me now. I couldn’t help my curiosity any more. Who made her so distracted? As I reached out for an orange, I got the chance to take a glance at the cause of the hiring manager’s distraction, and as soon as I saw him, I understood her reaction. He was stunning. He couldn't be more than a few years my senior, devastatingly handsome and dapper in a black pinstripe suit. Dark hair was carefully styled on his head, his face clean shaven and skin clear. The man studied me, blue eyes watching the way my hands moved. "I wasn't expecting you to join us, Mr. Rowe," Judy purred. She would do well to tone down how clearly desperate she was for the man's attention. The orange I had been holding nearly slipped from my hands. I recovered my fumble before the man could notice the effect of his name on me. Filthy, lying scum. After taking a couple deep breaths, I forced myself to focus back on my drink. I peeled a twist of skin off of the orange, dragging it around the rim of the glass and dropping it into the glass with a flourish. Finally, I splashed a little distilled water into the glass, then set it gently onto the bar. I was proud of myself for keeping my hands from shaking, gritting my teeth to hold back the sickening fury that plagued me now. "Allow me to introduce you to Amara Evans. She's here interviewing for the bartending position," Judy explained. I stared at the man as he crossed the room. Designer outfit, custom-made shoes, expensive watch. Of course, no luxury was too much to ask for a heartless, greedy and cold-blooded murderer. He got to the bar and extended a hand to me, offering a smile. For a moment, I was stunned by it. I scolded myself. His almost-genuine-looking smile might deceive most women, but it wouldn’t deceive me. It truly was a waste for such a handsome face to adorn the worthless skeleton of a man who would be better off at the bottom of Lake Mead. I took the man by the hand, meeting his rich blue eyes and shook his hand firmly. "Declan Rowe, co-owner of the Eclipse Nightclub," he introduced himself. Declan? So he wasn’t Hale? He wasn’t the one I was looking for! Sure, they shared a last name, but this wasn't him! Was it relief, or frustration, that pounded through my chest? "Amara Evans," I answered him, feeling a bit guilty for my hostile initial reaction towards him. As a matter of fact, now that I looked at his smile, it truly was charming and…genuine. In fact, he had been nothing but polite to me. At my last bartending position, I would have given up half my tips if my manager had just been willing to look me in the eye, rather than trying to get a better view of my cleavage. I knew I was blessed, but I couldn't excuse my own boss trying to ogle me at every turn. Declan, however, looked me directly in my eyes when he shook my hand. He watched my hands as I worked, but not in an attempt to undress me with his gaze. He gave me a sincere smile, one that was warm and inviting. I had no right to hate him. I determined then and there that I wouldn't hate him. I would be wary because he and Hale were probably related – brothers, perhaps – so I would keep being careful during any of our interactions. However, he was not the villain I assumed he was. Declan took the glass I had sat on the bar. He swirled the contents, studying them, and then he took a long sip of the drink, savoring it carefully. "Well, Amara, I must say, I'd be thrilled to have you on our team. This is fantastic," he commended. I couldn’t help the upcurl of my lips. I was proud of my work and I was pleased that Declan appreciated my creation just as much as I did. Yes, he was nice and charming. Just in a short interaction like this, I already like him. However, I was annoyed at myself at how quickly he had won me over. "Thank you, sir," I answered him as I lowered my head humbly. Judy was stuttering behind him. "Well, sir, we haven't even quite concluded the interview. I think it might be too soon to say such a thing." I almost forgot about her. As soon as Declan walked in, he became the center of our attention. "Consider this my glowing endorsement then," Declan told her firmly as he set the glass down on the bar. “Y-yes, sir!” Judy shattered a bit. Then she bowed to Declan. “Now, please excuse us.” He nodded. “Please, go ahead.” Judy turned to me. “Amara, you can join me at the table over there.” “Surely.” I followed her to one of the tables with an easy grace, one acquired from the confidence of years of men howling after me. Declan was still at the bar, seemingly waiting for someone. After we put a little space between Declan and us, Judy cleared her throat. "Amara, it would appear you've impressed one of the owners already. Now, I must be upfront with you regarding our work schedule and protocoles…" She droned on with employee rules and logistics, and I simply nodded my head patiently once in a while to show her I had been listening. After about ten minutes, I heard another set of heavy footsteps echoing in the relatively empty club hall. One that was slow, confident, and self assured. I didn’t turn around because I didn’t want Judy to think I wasn’t paying attention to her. However, she herself stopped talking. "Thank goodness, you made it," Declan called from the bar. “What are you doing here?” a new male voice said. It was a deep, rich and commanding voice, nearly a growl, but it was…intoxicating. I could beg him to speak more. "Judy is just finishing an interview with a new bartender in—" Declan explained. "I was unaware there was an issue with our current bartender," the new voice interrupted, and seemingly displeased. That alone had Judy rising from her chair, clasped her hands together and lowered her head, studying the floor. I stood and turned, wanting to take a look at the person when Declan’s words froze me in place. "Wait, Hale, what are you doing?” Hale Rowe. It was him!