The Hunt Masquerade - Milly Taiden Page 0,43
masquerade too, didn’t you?”
“I did! He took me away from those two meatheads and waltzed me around that floor before making a woman out of me—if you know what I mean.”
“Yup. Even this piece of material knows what you mean. Is this man of yours, Marlon Jensen, by any chance?”
Margie gasped before dissolving into giggles. “How did you know?” She clapped her hands. “No! Do not tell me that you’re the reason Marlon’s big brother is suddenly no longer carrying a big stick up his butt?”
Chantal shook her head. “He never had a stick up his butt. But, really nice. I just think the two brothers are very different from one another.”
“You don’t say.” Margie looked around, scanning the aisle. “Does that mean you’re his mate?”
“Yes. And you?”
“Yes! Oh my god! How the hell does that even happen? We go to one shifter party, one time, because one of your clients is going cray-cray and what happens? We find hot shifter mates. It’s like—”
“Fate?” Chantal offered.
“Definitely fate.”
“That is what Rush thinks it is too. Like somehow, life puts you on your mate’s path to be sure you will meet.”
Margie leaned against the counter where they cut from bolts and rolls. “This is wonderful. Really. At least now it makes sense. You have fallen so hard, so fast for this guy. It was so out of character. Especially after what happened with the major douche you dated before. I’m happy for you. This can only mean good things.”
“It can,” Chantal said with a giggle. “It only goes up from here. Now, let me work. I’ve got a store to run.”
Chantal made her way through the store to check on the few patrons. A tall man wearing a blue baseball cap was standing by the zippers and buttons. She approached him with a broad smile on her face. “Can I help you find anything, sir?”
Immediately, her entire body shouted that he was dangerous. It didn’t make a heck of a lot of sense. He was just some patron.
But there was something in his eyes. Something dark and terrifying. He eyed Margie, and he took a step back, mumbling something unintelligible. He pushed past her and quickly left the store.
Chantal watched him go, nasty little shivers running up and down her spine. The man had been up to no good, she was sure of it. Margie was in one of the aisles, the one with all of the white satins, silks, and tulles.
“Did you see that man?” she asked her best friend.
“No, I’ve been obsessing over this color. Would it wash me out? Be honest. I want you to make me the best wedding dress when I marry Marlon. I need to start looking at colors now so I know just how much to tan.” Margie snapped her fingers in Chantal’s face. “Are you not listening to me? Should I start tanning now if we get married this summer? Too soon?”
Chantal’s eyes were still glued to the door the man had left through. There was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Something was off.
“Have you ever had a stalker?” she asked Margie.
“I’m in no way famous enough for that. Why would you even ask?”
“No reason.” The damage was done, though. All of her senses told her the man was bad news. She didn’t want to frighten Margie, but she would tell Rush that Marlon should go all mate protector. She had a feeling that Margie had picked up a stalker.
Later that night at her apartment, Chantal tossed and turned, finding her bed uncomfortable for the first time since she had splurged on the luxurious mattress. It wasn’t the same without Rush beside her. With a sigh, she grabbed her phone from the bedside table and tapped out a kick note.
I think Margie is being followed. Could you tell Marlon to watch out for her? I should have told her today, but I wasn’t sure, and I really didn’t want to freak her out.
No sooner was the message sent that her phone rang. “Hey, Rush. I’m sorry for texting so late the night before your big meeting. I just couldn’t sleep without telling you that.”
“I will let him know, of course. But why are you so sure he was after Margie?”
“Simple. She was the only other person in the store at that time. Plus, she’s a pretty model. What if this guy saw her at a fashion gig and fixated on her?”
“Do you have a shift at the store again tomorrow?”
“No,