Her Enemy Protector Bear by Cynthia Wilde

Chapter 5

Zoe stared off into space for a moment as she pushed the mop across the floor of the shelter's clinic. The weekend had been busy. So far, the faire was delivering on all her hopes, and then some! She’d even made enough money to pay off the truck a few months earlier than she had expected, order more material for her costumes, and take Devon out for pizza. But three-day weekends always left her feeling drained, despite the financial boon. Not that she didn't love what she did for a living, but working three very long days straight, dealing with more than five hundred people coming into her booth per day, stretched her a bit mentally, to say the least. She had had a few minor run ins with her new neighbors, but that was too be expected. If she didn’t stand up for herself they weren’t gonna make it.

But, she felt that it was all worth it. She moved over to where Devon played with the newest rescue dog. It was actually a pug, brought in by a man who had claimed he'd found her wandering the street. After a little standard detective work it turned out this sweet dog was his dog. He had made up the whole “found him on the street story”. The microchip led them directly to the guy's address that he'd given on the paperwork. How could someone abandon their pet? To just return it like a pair of shoes that don’t fit, not to mention lie about it. Some people just don't deserve animals, thought Zoe as she watched her son and the dog. It’s better to find a new home for her than to stay with a man like that anyhow.

The bell rang on the door, pulling Zoe out of her thoughts. They had quickly developed a trusted rapport with Dr. Bently and when he went out on a house call, he'd left Zoe and Devon in charge. With his Veterinary clinic right next door he spread pretty thin. Clearly the rescue was a labor of love though.

Zoe walked out to the front room. The man that had walked in was tall and muscular with dark curly hair and brown eyes. Zoe’s breathe caught in her throat in spite of herself. Hello good lookin’. As his eyes met hers, a shock of electricity hit her hard, sending tingles throughout her body. That was nothing though, compared to the ache from her sex. It had been so long since she had felt such a rise that it temporarily threw her off. She felt her face grow hot, then instantly did her best to compose herself. She put on her most professional persona as she addressed him.

"May I help you?" she asked, trying to act casual. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest. She didn’t know if it were her imagination, or wishful thinking, but she could have sworn the man registered some sort of similar reaction. Zoe, get it together. She set aside whatever she had thought she had just seen in his eyes.

"I'm looking for a female cat. I don’t have a picture, but she is very distinctive. I am fairly certain she is an Exotic Shorthair. From what I understand you would call it a Cow Cat or a Moo cat I think. It is black and white. I don’t have a picture but I do have a pretty good sketch that should suffice," the man said, pulling out a drawing.

"You know sir,” she said, without even looking at the drawing. Of course I want to help you out, and we will put up your picture, but do you see all these cages? Do you know how many strays are put down every day while people go out paying money for designer cats? Sometimes I wish you people would just have a bit more love for your animals than you seem to for your money.” Even as she was speaking she knew she had perhaps gone a little overboard.

And as she spoke she saw the man’s face grow from a subtle pink toward a more pronounced red. “You know, first of all,” he began in a controlled, strained voice, “you assume a great deal. You have no idea just how much love I do have for animals. And this is not my cat. I am searching for a friend in need actually. She is unable to help herself at the moment,” he continued as his voice gained a few decibels, and so I and many of my friends are searching for her. Will you help me or not?”

“You don’t need to lecture me on love of animals. Purebreed farms are a problem. Perhaps I spoke too soon and you did not buy this cat yourself …”

“As much as I would like to debate cat politics with you, I have a very busy today, with much left to do,” he interrupted her. His voice had cooled now. “May I check to see if the cat is here?”

“Of course,” she replied, well aware that any words out of her mouth would not be helpful at this moment.

"This way,"she said, as she led him to the walls of cages. She stood cross armed, watching him check each cage for the cat in question. She realized she was checking out his ass, and scolded herself. He is an ass Zoe, what are you doing. The sooner he left the better. She knew the type, and she hated them.

Turning his impressive frame back to her he said, “Thank you. I don’t see her here. If you could just keep your eye out for her it would be appreciated. She's a very special cat." His voice was now very businesslike and to the point. “And if you could post that flyer that would help too. It has a contact number if you do learn anything.”

"Of course, I'll post it up on the wall," said Zoe. "And we will keep an eye out.” To call the interaction strained was an understatement at this point.

"Thank you." The man looked at her for a moment as though there was something more that he wanted to say, but stopped himself. "Good day." With that, he walked out the door without another word. Zoe watched him go before realizing that she never got his name. Not that she cared. What a jerk.

Zoe sighed. So why do I feel so rattled.I know why. It was because she was caught in that space where she totally hated everything the guy stood for and where she knew at least part of it was her own issues. Dammit. Stupid self-awareness. She missed the days when she could really get lost in her righteous rage. Plus anybody that good-looking must be a jerk. Oh well.

She had been holding the flyer this whole time but had not actually looked at it yet. The moment he had said the word “Exotic” she had been far too triggered to even think of it. Now as she approached their community board to pin it up, she finally gave it a look. She was surprised to see a somewhat familiar image. She could have sworn that it was the same cat she had seen at the faire. It had the same eyes and coloring, but there were so many cats out there with the same colors that she couldn’t be sure of course.

Just then Devon can walking in from the back room where he had been cleaning out some cages. “I got them all done,” he stated proudly.

“I am sure you did,” she replied as she patted him on the back affectionately.

Trying to forget about the guy and his lost cat, Zoe threw herself into her work. The rest of the day turned into a blur of cleaning more cages, feeding everyone, walking the dogs, and playing with the more friendly and rambunctious animals. By the end of it all, she was exhausted but happy. If she remembered, she told herself, maybe she would call that number the next. Maybe if I see the cat again. She still wasn’t exactly jumping at the opportunity to help the guy. She pushed it from her mind.

* * *

The week flew by.Zoe and Devon worked at the shelter Tuesday and Thursday, while Zoe fit in a flurry of sewing skirts, shirts, dresses, and pants for the next weekend. By the time Saturday rolled around, she was fully stocked and ready to rock the weekend. The only problem she had was the dirt-cheap clothing store across the way. It was clear to Zoe that whoever owned it was outsourcing some rather poorly made mass produced items. She hated to see fair goers spending their hard-earned cash on gear that just wasn’t going to last. She believed in quality and authenticity – especially when it was her handiwork! Her ex had always been the tough one in these situations, but she knew that if she was going to make it she had to step up. She wasn’t going to shy away from standing up for her superior garments. She took a lot of pride in their quality. With the looming fear of failure she couldn’t worry about rubbing a couple of people the wrong way if that’s what it took to gain a following at Ravenstone Realm.

Several of her new customers wore her competitor's wares and complained about how quickly the fabric frayed or how the stitches popped and came loose. They often became her best customers. After they realized “cheap” was actually “expensive” in the long run, it was easy for her to sell them on her quality – especially when it came with a lifetime guarantee.

Around noon every day, the audience made their way out of the merchant circle and over to the jousting arena. Zoe had already begun to adjust to the daily flow. It gave her enough time to take stock, create lists of what she would need, count the till, and send Devon to get them some lunch. Today she had even taken a moment to step back from the booth to get a better view from the customers perspective. She always was looking for ways to improve her displays. That's when she saw him.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight after being in her rather dark booth most of the day. But as she walked across the way there he was. It was the hot-as-sin guy from the animal shelter. The pure bred guy. The jerk. He was standing in the other clothing booth, wearing the most hideous, shiny costume she'd ever seen. He looked at her, and she looked at him; she felt a bolt of electricity shoot through her inspite of herself. Jerk or not, she couldn't help her body's reaction as her pussy once again grew wet.

She felt annoyed just looking at him again, but was highly aroused as well. Holy crud. What is my body doing? This guy is the worst!What is he doing here? He was unmistakable, even in that outfit. Same chisel features. Don’t tell me he works there? Judging by his body language and interaction with patrons that appeared to be the case but she couldn’t be sure.

Zoe didn't have long to wait for confirmation. She watched him fix his hat at a rather jaunty angle and make his way over to her with a look that held a combination of surprise and determination in his eyes.

"Good afternoon, my lady," he said with a rather forced smile and bow. "It looks as though, for better or worse, we are neighbors."

"Yes," Zoe said, choosing annoyance over her arousal, folding her arms over her chest. He wasn’t going to sweet talk her, that was for sure. Clearly he wanted something. "It appears that is the case."

"I'm Nicholas Barrett, the merchant coordinator and the owner of the clothing shop over there."

"Ah the owner, I see,” she said, her heart sinking. The pure bred jerk is not only my neighbor but effectively my boss. Fook. She was trying her best to come across as at least pleasant, though she feared she was failing miserably. She knew she could have handled herself better when she saw him at the rescue, but he was still a jerk in her eyes. A hot jerk. But she had better at least try to make the best of it. “Well, it's nice to finally meet you, officially," Zoe said. "I mean to meet the person in charge of the booths and I suppose to get your name. Did you find your cat?" Suddenly she remembered her potential sighting, though she wasn’t sure if it would be helpful at this point. She was just about to mention it but had barely gotten the initial question out of her mouth when he cut in.

"The investigation is ongoing," he said. "Thank you for asking, but that is not why I came over here." He cleared his throat. "It's come to my attention that you have been saying some rather unkind things about my wares to patrons and guests. I would greatly appreciate it if you wouldn't do that. For one thing I would say it borders on slander, and more importantly it makes the faire look bad when merchants are badmouthing each other."

Zoe stared at him incredulously. Adrenaline flooded her body. This guy really is a jerk! The arousal was gone, she felt herself heating up in an entirely different way. Well, almost gone.

"You and I both know that you brought me in here with the promise that I would have the exclusive rights to selling apparel in whatever section you found a booth for me. Imagine my surprise when I saw your shop directly across from mine. So on top of dealing with direct competition with your shop I also come to find that your wares are not even hand-made but are outsourced. Does that sound about right? So with your cheap clothing you could easily undercut me!" Zoe waited and refused to back down as she watched him fidget after she called him out. The silence between them was deafening.

Nicholas made a low growl in his throat as his voice went down an octave to not to be heard by people milling about. "Exclusive agreement? That was certainly not my understanding. Many people sell apparel here. I don’t see how that is even possible but I will check with Samantha on that. But regardless, the quality and the source from which I get my clothing is not the issue here. It is your behavior I am speaking about. Even if you did have a point, did it occur to you that badmouthing your neighbors might not be the best move on your first day?" His eyes shot daggers at her.

"All right then," she said defensively, trying not to lose her cool as he attempted to turn this whole thing around on her. "Patrons and guests expect a level of quality when they come into our shops. It wasn't me who started saying your clothing was cheap. It was the customers themselves who were wearing your brand that said it. And let’s face, they aren’t making it up. Your threads snag, the fabric shreds and don't get me started on the general flimsiness. I mean, look at the one you are wearing!? Is it safe to say you sell that? If you don't want people to talk, then up your game, Mr. Barrett. Your reputation is not my problem. I'm not the one making this place look like a common flea market." Zoe's heart thudded as she spoke the last words to him. She couldn't stop herself. First the Pure-bred thing and now this. This man infuriated her.

"I have to get back to my shop now. Nice meeting you, neighbor." Zoe emphasized the word 'neighbor,' then turned her back on him, walking briskly to the relative safety of her booth. She moved as quickly as she could while not looking behind her to gauge his reaction. That temper Zoe. She knew she could work on her approach, but this guy seemed to just know how to push her buttons. The damage was done. Either, he listened to what she said, or by the end of the weekend, she would most likely be looking for a new faire. She knew his type and could tell he wouldn't let a woman best him at anything, and unfortunately, he had the upper hand.