Tiger Bait [10% Complete]

[Shane Lyons]

Prompt List

• Trouble
• Birthday
• New Year's
• Wedding
• Masquerade
• Family
• Halloween
• Triangle
• 3 AM
• Fireplace

[Shane Lyons]

T R O U B L E

  There were some things that Shane would never understand. Why Arielle needed a bra that cost 60.00 dollars - or why she needed one in every colour that Victoria's Secret made. And in that, why there were things like seasonal colours and limited edition colours. He did understand one thing, though: the bras were not to be washed in the machine, under no circumstances. Ever. Something about the dyes that were used, or the structural integrity of the underwire being compromised.

But somehow, it had happened anyways.

Shane stood in the laundry room, the remnants of Arielle's bra in his hands. It had somehow wrapped around the center of the machine and the cord that crossed in the center had been violently ripped in two. He felt like he'd just door-dinged her BMW for the sinking feeling in his stomach, but it was so much worse. He cradled the phone between his shoulder and ear as he raced up the stairs and began flinging her under garments out of her chosen drawer, trying to determine if this was a bra she wouldn't notice was missing after all.

"Hey, this better be an emergency," the smoky voice on the other side said. "Because I was just about to - "

"Syd, I'm in serious trouble," he confessed. His voice was on the brink of panic as he ran his free hand through his blonde hair, eyes surveying the mess he'd made on their California King. His son had crept into the doorway and was watching with a stunned stare as Shane looked back and forth over his mess versus the bra that had been shredded.

"Why, what happened?" she asked, suddenly more alert than before. Shane Lyons didn't really ever panic, so this might be cause for some attention. She moved away from the hotel bar where she'd been following a client to bully them into a new contract and stepped into the lobby, taking a moment to fluff her glossy brown hair in the large, ornate wall-sized mirror she stood before.

"I shredded one of Arielle's bras in the wash. I don't know how it even got in there. I must have scooped it up with my uniforms, but - oh my god, Syd, she's gonna fucking kill me. What the hell do I do?"

Sydney paused. On one hand, this was laughable and not at all any reason why she should be taking a few of her precious moments from her job to indulge. On the other hand, she'd met Arielle, and that woman had... a way. Not that she didn't like her; on the contrary, she admired her attitude and drive. In fact, Arielle might have made a good addition to ISIS if she hadn't been so wrapped up with that law firm run by vampires.

"Syd?" he gulped.

She could hear him ushering his son out of the room in the background, and she tapped her jaw with her forefinger as she considered this. "Okay, fine. What brand is it?" she asked.

"Victoria's Secret. It's white with all these little rhinestones on it. She got it last year and she almost never wears it, so I'm thinking she might not miss it - "

"NOOOOO," Syd interrupted him. "That's a limited edition." She ignored his pained groan as the 'LE' words left her mouth; it was every man's worst nightmare. "It was a holiday release for 2010, white with Swarovski Crystals. They did a limited number with a matching set of undies and they were two-hundred fifty dollars. Each."

"Each?" he parroted.

"Each," she repeated.

"But if it's limited edition than how the hell can I get another one?" he asked. He began gathering all of her bras up and shoving them back in the drawer, not even caring if they were in the right "order" or whatever the hell she called it.

"You can't. BUT, since I'm so benevolent and kind, I've got a friend who owes me a favour, and she just so happens to have bought a few of them with the intent to sell them at a ridiculous price to women who were desperate to add them to their collections. I'll forward her number along to you. I'll warn you though, this bra is going to cost you." She grinned at her own reflection, mentally adding her own 20% onto the price.

"Cost me? How much? Wait, you know what? I don't even care. Just get me her information. Tell her to expect me in like, two hours. Arielle gets home around seven or eight tonight and it's noon now, so this is enough time for me to get away with this unnoticed..." he trailed off, devising some sort of plan.

"Okay, will do. My advice? I'd swing by the mall and buy her something else, too. I bet you yanked all of her unmentionables out of their usual spots and you wouldn't know how to put them back in the right order if there was a gun to your head."

"There's actually an order to this madness?" he squawked.

"Oh, yeah. Some people arrange by season, some arrange by level of comfort, some by colour, some by texture - I could go on, but you get the idea. Look, if you get her another bra, you can just say you ransacked the drawer to make sure she didn't already have it. Right? Good. Okay, going now, you owe me, bye!" And she shut her phone with a snap.

She sent two text messages - one to Shane with the information he needed, and the other to Andy, her friend who was about to make her a nice sum of pocket change. She smiled broadly to herself, and then went back into the hotel bar. When she arrived behind the suited man, she put a firm hand on his shoulder, pinching his nerve slightly.

"Mr. Anderson," she said. "I get the feeling you've been avoiding me."