1 His Life

James Whelan was tired. He was tired despite only waking up thirty minutes ago. His reflection stared back at him as he tried to reason with himself. He had to go to work today. Tomorrow he could call in sick for a mental health day, but today was important.

Tomorrow is when he would finally earn enough money to be okay for this pay period. He was done telling himself that he would be recognized and invited for a higher paying audience. He knew that only happened to a very few.

Being a private chef was not as high paying as it was showcased. Most people who wanted a chef in their home were wanting to look higher than their station. There was a reason he demanded them sign a payment schedule now. More than once people pretended to afford him and then had to resort to a payment plan after one dinner. 

He didn't even charge that much. It was 10 dollars per person per course plus the cost of ingredients and clean up. But some people refused to have anything but the most expensive food, despite them not always being the best. And the amount of times that someone didn't like something and just claimed he was a bad chef.

There were too many entitled people out there. He just wished he drew the eyes of someone more experienced in hiring someone. Or at least someone who could actually afford his skill. He was well aware that he was mid-range pricing. But he couldn't afford anything cheaper. He had bills to pay too.

Not to mention, because of his job, he struck out a lot too. Apparently being a private chef is enough for a date, but God forbid they find out you haven't cooked for someone 'truly' famous and can't get them a meet and greet. Life in the world of humans was too fast.

He could imagine how chaotic his life would be if it was 50 years ago, when the werewolves revealed themselves. He read about it in school, apparently people thought the world was ending. But it didn't. He had heard that it was impossible to hold a relationship because everyone was terrified that they were talking to a werewolf.

Which is why he shaves his face. The time when he didn't, people would get handsy and flirt until they realized he is human so they would move on. One woman openly told him he looked like an alpha. James isn't entirely sure that's how that works. He's read that book, and the paper by Rudolf Schenkel, who then wrote a document saying he was wrong about wolves.

Nothing else really changed, apart from there being yet another group of people being 'other'ed by other people. He shook his head and stepped into the shower. He was tired, but he still needed to go to work. As soon as he was done he threw on his uniform and went to his care. Her name was Teala. He kissed her dented hood for good luck.

She was a 1998 Ford Taurus SE. She was almost ancient. She was older than him. But he couldn't afford newer or better. Not right now. She wouldn't always start, which is why he kissed her hood. Call him weird or superstitious, but he could almost swear it worked.

He got in and turned the key. It sputtered and for a moment he thought it would start first try, for the first time in nearly two years. But then she died.

Fuck.

He tried again.

Nothing.

And again.

Nothing.

He crossed his fingers and kissed the steering wheel. Then he took a deep breath and tried again.

Finally.

She hummed to life and he felt so relieved. He started towards the address he was going to cook at. He got annoyed when they cut a song short to play the weather broadcast. Then laughed as he looked at the clear sky while the man said it was going to snow. That man once said it was going to rain when it was 98 degrees outside. The next day it was declared that it was the worst drought in history.

He sped up the second he was out of town. He couldn't believe how far out he was driving.the houses became entire fields apart from each other until there were more buildingless fields than houses. Then the houses stopped altogether. The fields turned into thick forest really quickly. Nearly ten minutes of nothing but trees before he finally saw the house.

The house gave him hope. It was massive. It had to have more than ten rooms at least. Surely someone with this kind of house would be able to afford him. Though, it almost looked more like a courthouse than a house but it was clearly too well maintained to be owned by the state. He pulled his car into the roundabout before a man directed him to stop.

He had dark hair and was in a suit. He walked over to the window and tapped on it. James gestured for him to step back and he did. So James got out. The man spoke before James could even say hi.

"Present yourself for scent marking." The man said. James felt confused as to what that string of words even meant. But before he could ask questions, the man was against him and had his nose buried into his neck.

James froze for about a moment before moving to push him away. The man caught his hands and pushed James up against the car. Fear slammed through his spine and he brought his knee to the man's dick. The man growled and grabbed his throat.

"Get the hell off of me!" James yelled before the man squeezed on his throat, preventing him from breathing. Just as his vision began to darken. He was on the ground coughing and gasping. As soon as he could breathe he jumped to his feet and got ready to run.

"Chef Whalen, I apologize." He heard. He turned to see the woman, Mrs. Moon that hired him. "My head of security was trying to make sure you weren't secretly from a warring pack. I had no idea he would be so aggressive." She added. James took in her pure silver dress and wide choker.

James blinked as he tried to shake off memories that he would rather forget. The man he had been choking him out had his head down and his neck to the side. He nodded dumbly.

"I just don't know what he was doing." James said. She gave a confused look for a moment before laughing.

"Oh, of course, silly me. We are the Moon Pack. You will be cooking for our counsel meeting." She said. Werewolves? He was cooking for werewolves. Well, maybe they'd be better than humans. "Over there is our caretaker's house, if anything breaks down or something is unacceptable, and over there is my guest house, my son is staying there. He has requested to be alone. He is of age and he doesn't want to spend time with anyone." She said. She began walking inside so James grabbed his chef jacket and followed after her. She didn't seem to be gesturing  with her hands, only nodding which was so vague.

"That way is the bathroom and that way is the dining room, Mariah will help you however you need, she is interested in learning how to cook. She was abandoned in our pack as a pup. But she has shown great promise." She said. He nodded trying to act like he understood everything. As soon as they got into the kitchen he felt himself calm down as zero in.

"What time does dinner need to be starting to serve?" James asked as he walked over to the sink and washed his hands.

"Six." She said. He found the dishes he was being asked to cook next to the sink.

"Thank you very much, I will only need a few minutes to get my equipment from the car-" James started before a short red head came in with a duffle bag. His duffle bag. He felt very surprised. 

"When I parked your car this was in the passenger seat. I saw knives and I knew you would need it." She said. Mrs. Moon looked proud and smiled at James. James smiled back. 

"Thank you so much." James said. Mrs. Moon seemed to nod to her. James didn't know what to do but he took a stab at it, no pun intended. "You must be Mariah." James said. The girl nodded and grinned. "I was told that you love cooking. I would be happy if you would assist me, and in trade I could show you some tricks they taught me in school." He said. She grinned and nodded. Mrs. Moon walked away and Mariah seemed to bounce as she stood there.