Appetite for an Alpha (Omega Quadrant #4)

Chapter 18

18

Seven months later…

B rett walked through the bare bones of their new apartment, smiling now that they finally had walls. Pierce had been able to see the layout with only the wooden studs up, but Brett had struggled to envision it. The drywall had been completed, and for once, he could see the blueprint come to life.

All around him, workmen were busy. There were men plastering the joints in the drywall and smoothing out the nail holes. A crew was installing the new quartz countertops in the kitchen as the electricians finished the wiring in the primary bedroom. He lifted his clipboard, checking to see that the work was on schedule.

Pierce slipped through the front door and smiled when his gaze fell on Brett. He rubbed Brett’s swollen tummy as they kissed. “I woke up, and you were gone. I should’ve known I’d find you in here.”

“I was just checking their progress before I went downstairs and did payroll. We’re on a tight timeline, and I want this place ready before the baby gets here, if possible.”

“Who knew my omega was the perfect project manager? I wish I’d had you around during the restaurant’s remodels.”

“I’ll be there for the next,” Brett mumbled as he watched one of the guys mudding leave a chunk of spackle unsmoothed when he moved down the wall. “Hey, you missed a spot!”

“The next?”

“I was serious when I mentioned it needed a spruce up. We need to entice a slightly younger crowd if we still want to be in business a decade from now,” Brett said, eyes fixed on the walls. “So we need an update. That is, if we can get this job done.”

Pierce gently pinched Brett’s chin and forced his gaze up. “It gets done when it gets done. We have the apartment still.”

“You and Max are on top of each other in your office. Chef asks me almost daily when he’s getting his, and I caught him in there measuring the other day—which reminds me, he doesn’t need to be in there with confidential account information and personnel files when no one else is in there. If you unlocked the door, don’t do it again.”

“Yes, sir,” Pierce murmured. “But it wasn’t me. I’ll talk to Max about it.”

“It won’t be an issue once we’re upstairs in the new offices. We need to stay on schedule and on budget here to make that happen.”

Pierce rested his hand on Brett’s belly. “And you have to take care of yourself and this little one. Stop stressing so much.” He took the clipboard from Brett’s hand. “Have you eaten breakfast?”

“T-Bone’ll make me something when I go down.”

“Let’s go down, then, and get you fed,” Pierce said, urging Brett out of the door. “I’ve got about an hour before the meeting with that charity group who’s interested in booking the banquet space for their winter event.”

“That far out? It’s spring,” Brett said.

“These corporate things are planned way out in advance, but I don’t know that they’re going to book with us. The banquet room can only accommodate a tight hundred, and I told them that when it sounded like they needed more space. Once they see the room, they might back out,” Pierce said, holding Brett’s hand as they walked down the stairs. Brett had given up arguing about being treated like a toddler around a set of stairs, especially as his stomach expanded and it grew harder and harder to see his own feet. “I wish we had a bigger space where we could hold larger events.”

“Is that a dig because I claimed three apartments?”

“No,” Pierce said. “The entire upstairs isn’t as big as I’d want.”

“How big do you want?” Brett asked.

“We’ve catered big events off-site for years,” Pierce said. “It’s a pain in the ass to move that much equipment, china, glassware, and food. If we had space on-site, it would actually save us time and money in the long run.”

“You know, I heard the theater next door isn’t doing so well since the son took over. Maybe we should keep an eye on it.”

“Already ahead of you,” Pierce said, smiling. “I’ve already reached out to Senior. He’s still the owner and not pleased with things since his retirement. He’s interested in talking with us.”

Brett stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “You know, when I suggested hiring a GM, that wasn’t so you could spend all your time building a new event business. Family first, remember?”

“One, we’ve been catering for years so it’s not new. Expanded, possibly. We’ve lost out on so many events over the years because we didn’t have the space for a larger group. A lot of large venues have in-house catering.”

Brett turned back to Pierce. “Between the bakers, prep, and dinner, where the heck do you prep for larger events? I don’t remember any really big ones since I’ve been here.”

“Morning, guys!” both Brett and Pierce called to the prep cooks.

“Morning!” they all yelled back.

“We usually take over the pastry kitchen, which pisses them off. If we expanded, we couldn’t continue to do that. We would need a second kitchen, which means a bigger expense,” Pierce admitted.

“A second kitchen?” T-Bone asked as they passed. “You opening another restaurant?”

“No. Discussing expanded on-site catering,” Pierce said. “And just talking about possibilities.”

“You know, the theater next door would be a great spot for catered events,” T-Bone said. “Junior’s a piece of work. I give that place six months, tops, before it shuts down.”

Brett eyed Pierce before smiling at T-Bone.

“Is that the play?” T-Bone asked, his eyes widening. He crept closer, a conspiratorial look to his face.

“Perhaps,” Pierce said.

“So, this second kitchen… is it dedicated to only the catering angle or what?”

“What else would we use it for?” Pierce asked.

“The shop on the other side of it has been sitting empty for almost a year. They can’t find a buyer,” T-Bone said.

“What would we do with that?” Brett asked.

“One of those fancy bistros,” T-Bone said. “Brunch and lunch. Walk up to order, no servers, just a couple of clerks. A few tables but mainly focus on the folks working here in the AQ in them towers that need a meal on the go. Maybe have a little bakery counter since you’ve already got bakers and pastry chefs on tap—have them bump up production a bit perhaps. Serve some of them fancy coffees and maybe get a barista or two. You know these corporate types eat that shit up.”

“How does that tie into the catering business, though?” Brett asked.

“Catering can be less than consistent, especially early on before the news spreads. Here, we sometimes go weeks without an event upstairs. You can have a consistent early hours business to make sure there’s money coming in to help pay for all that new equipment… then it’s open all evening for events as they roll in.”

“That’s actually rather smart,” Pierce said.

“If only we had the time to run a third business with a baby on the way,” Brett said, glaring at Pierce.

“I could run it,” T-Bone said. “I can help with the catering, too, if you need me to.”

Both Pierce and Brett froze and eyed T-Bone.

“I know I’m rough around the edges, but I can clean my act up a little if I’ve got to face the public.”

“His cooking is good,” Brett agreed before whispering, “I personally think it’s better than Chef’s.”

“Damned right it’s good. I learned from the best. Pierre Lambeau,” T-Bone said.

Pierce stared hard at T-Bone for a few seconds before nodding. “Let me mull that one over.”

T-Bone’s shoulders slumped.

“That’s not a no, T,” Pierce said. “I’m intrigued—but I already had some plans in mind for you.”

A hint of a smile crossed T-Bone’s lips but soon fled. “Pierce, I don’t know if I can stand working prep much longer. I thought I was the obvious choice for sous but then Chef rehired that dick, Vinnie…” T-Bone sighed. “We all know how that worked out. I called it way before it happened.”

Brett glared at Pierce. He’d advocated for T-Bone, but Chef had convinced Pierce to try another route. An old employee who’d once worked as Pierre’s third in command but had left when his ideas hadn’t been used. He’d come in with a big chip on his shoulder and pissed everyone off. Pierce had been on the verge of calling the experiment over when Vinnie had snapped at Brett over a minor payroll issue that he’d caused himself. Pierce had ceremoniously sent him packing, and the entire staff had erupted into applause.

They still hadn’t hired a new sous chef, and the kitchen was limping along.

“Just… give me some time, please,” Pierce said. “I’m making some moves soon. Don’t think about leaving me until I do, okay?”

“Alright, then.” T-Bone nodded. He eyed Brett. “Ready for some breakfast?”

“Yep,” Brett said. He ran a hand over his stomach. “Baby’s hungry, too.”

“Whatcha want?”

“Why don’t you choose?” Brett said. “Something you would love to add to that brunch menu at that shop if you had your way.”

T-Bone cocked a lopsided grin. “You got it, Baby Boss.”

Pierce grasped Brett’s shoulders and urged him into his office. He wouldn’t let Brett sit at the desk. He coaxed him onto the loveseat instead.

“I don’t know if I can get up from this thing,” Brett said, sinking into the softness. “I struggled the last time, and that was almost a month ago.”

“I’ll just slide your desk over here,” Pierce joked before rolling the office chair closer. He sat down in front of Brett and lifted one foot to his lap. “How’s the ankle swelling this morning?”

“Meh.”

He pulled Brett’s pant leg up and sighed. Pierce’s gaze whipped to his. “Stay off your feet or I’m going to tie you to the bed and make you do payroll from a laptop up there.”

“It’s not that bad,” Brett argued. “Better than a few days ago.”

After slipping off the shoe, Pierce massaged Brett’s foot and ankle, earning a moan.

“Oh, that feels good,” Brett said, laying his head back on the loveseat. “Keep doing that and I’ll stay off my feet so you can.”

Pierce chuckled, his strong hands easing the ache away.

Brett’s feet and ankles had been an ongoing problem since the third month. No matter what he did, he couldn’t find a way to stop it other than stay off his feet entirely and keep them elevated all day. Pierce wanted him to do just that, but there was too much work to do between the restaurant and the remodel upstairs.

“I didn’t realize T-Bone had worked here when your brother was around,” Brett murmured. “He’s been here a while, then.”

“He was this punk fifteen-year-old that Pierre originally hired for the dish room. That kid had more mouth than sense. You think he can talk shit now? Back then, he was worse. Pierre loved it, though. He loved messing with him and talking shit, too. He ended up teaching T how to cook, and started calling him Bonehead for being too thick to listen half the time.” Pierce grinned. “The front of the house still called him Terry while the back of the house all ended up calling him Bonehead, like Pierre. Somewhere along the way the names melded into T-Bone.”

“I always wondered where he got his nickname,” Brett said, struggling to stay awake with the masterful foot massage he was getting.

“You look tired, baby. Maybe you should go upstairs and take a nap after you eat,” Pierce murmured.

“Maybe after payroll,” Brett mumbled. He smiled at his alpha. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

“It’s my job,” Pierce replied with a grin. He narrowed his eyes. “Why did you ask T to bring you something he’d like to put on the menu?”

“I assume you’re thinking of asking Chef to head this new catering venture of yours since he’s made a few comments recently about how he’s getting tired and wants to slow down. That means you’d need a new executive chef here. Might as well see what he’s got up his sleeves, right? We both know he’d be a strong contender for it, rough around the edges or not.”

“All those years I thought you were playing around and oblivious to what was going on in here—I was so wrong, wasn’t I?”

“Oh, I was playing around, but I think that made it easier for folks to show me their real side. They underestimated me, as everyone usually does. Their pretenses tend to slip when they think you don’t matter.”

“You’d make one hell of a spy.”

Brett grinned. “Who says I’m not?”

Pierce chuckled.

“And this spy is telling you that T-Bone’s food is better than Chef’s. Chef plays it safe. T doesn’t. That’s the kind of chef you should have in your kitchen. Someone more like Pierre. I’m still mad you two didn’t make T-Bone sous chef.”

“Chef saved us after Pierre was gone. I had to let him try his way first. It didn’t work, so now I get my way.”

“I understand your loyalty to him, but this is your restaurant. Your last name is on the marquee. Not Antonio Garzi’s.”

Pierce nodded. “I consider Chef more a partner than an employee. I couldn’t slip into his shoes if he walked out, and he knows it. I have to give him a measure of respect and let him try things his way first.”

“I get that,” Brett murmured, smiling at his alpha.

Pierce left Brett’s foot on his lap as he lifted the other and gave it a massage, too.

Brett fought sleep as Pierce continued. Apparently he lost the fight because T-Bone walked in with his breakfast and woke him up.

“So that’s what you’re into?” T-Bone asked Pierce with a wink. “Feet?”

“His feet, maybe,” Pierce joked. He turned to eye Brett. “My omega’s ankles have been swelling for months now. Maybe you can help me make sure he stays off his feet when I’m not around.”

“I can do that, Boss,” T-Bone said. He dragged the straight-back chair across the office closer to Brett and set the plate on the seat before handing Brett silverware. “Brunch is served.”

Brett eyed the plate. It looked utterly amazing—and the smell? Divine. “What am I eating?”

“Pan seared shrimp sautéed in a lemon butter beurre blanc. Served over creamy gouda grits and topped with crispy green onions,” T-Bone replied. “Bon appetit.”

“It’s so pretty I don’t want to eat it,” Brett said. “But I will.” He dug in, taking half a shrimp and a heaping helping of grits. As soon as it hit his tongue, he moaned. “Oh my gods, T. This is amazing.” Brett handed the fork to Pierce to sample.

Pierce scooped some up, and he froze as soon as it was inside his mouth. His eyes watered, and he coughed a bit.

“What’s wrong?” Brett asked. “The bite I ate wasn’t hot.”

Pierce chewed and swallowed, silent.

“Was it that bad?” T-Bone asked, looking defeated.

Pierce eyed T-Bone. “For a few seconds there, I thought I was eating Pierre’s cooking.” His eyes shone. “He’d be proud of that dish, T.”

Brett grinned when he saw the genuine smile that spread across T-Bone’s face.

“Thanks, Pierce. That means a lot coming from you. Your brother taught me everything I know in the kitchen. I owe him for that.”

Pierce nodded, clearly emotional. Brett drew his feet down and leaned forward, squeezing his alpha’s hand.

“Why have you never cooked like that for me before?” Pierce asked T-Bone.

“You’ve never asked me to bring you one of my recipes before,” T-Bone answered.

Pierce chuckled, the sound bittersweet. “If I’d known that was what you’d bring to the table, I would’ve fought to put Maurice in with the prep crew instead of you.”

T-Bone grinned. “Have y’all made any decisions about sous?”

“Yeah. I think I have. Let me talk to Chef today—and then you, Brett, and I are going to have a sit-down tomorrow. Okay?”

“O- kay,” T-Bone replied, a smile growing on his face. “I’ll bring another dish for you two to sample, too.”

“Ten-thirty,” Pierce said. “Meet us out in the dining room.”

“Alright, Bossman. Ten-thirty it is. Thank you,” T-Bone said before nearly bouncing out of the office.

Pierce handed Brett the fork, still a bit misty-eyed.

“Why don’t you take another bite before I inhale that plate,” Brett said. “Because I’m going to inhale it in record time.”

Pierce chuckled and scooped up another bite. He groaned and closed his eyes. “This is as good as anything Pierre ever made. It’s better than Chef’s cooking. Damned sight better than what Maurice was putting out.” He gave Brett the fork. “I should’ve been working with him years ago, developing that talent. What a waste of time. Had I known what he could do? That kitchen would be worlds different.”

“He’s passionate about cooking. You can taste it in his food. We can round out some of those rough edges, but not too many. We don’t want him to lose whatever it is that makes him cook like this,” Brett said before taking another bite and moaning. “I swear this is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

Pierce grew quiet. “T’s been here for over twenty years. He was a bit shaky when he was a teenager, but since his mid-twenties, he’s been consistent, hardworking, and loyal. I should’ve had him cook for me sooner.”

“Yep. You should probably have all your cooks make you one of their dishes on occasion. See where the talent lies.”

“Not a bad idea,” Pierce murmured.

Brett offered the fork to Pierce, but he shook his head.

“That’s your breakfast. Eat.” Pierce sat back and continued massaging Brett’s feet, moving up to the ankles. “What do you think of T’s other idea? The bistro?”

“It’s a lot of work but hire the right people and train them well like you did here. There’s a few of our servers who might make great prospective managers for it, too.”

“Would it take too much of your time to add new businesses? The catering and the shop? You complained about there not being enough work for you to be in the office full-time, but you’ve been busy ever since you got in here.”

Brett snorted, swallowing the bite in his mouth. “I’m only busy right now because of the reno upstairs and playing project manager. Once that’s over I’ll need more work.”

“You’ve got more work growing inside you right now. We’re going to have our hands full.”

“The bookkeeping here only takes me a couple of days. Adding a new set of books for a smaller company would be a piece of cake and likely only take a day per week to maintain. Since our office is going upstairs, I can have the baby right there with me, taking breaks whenever I need to.”

“I have to think this through. Inside and out. I’ll let it mull today and see what our conversations with Chef and T bring about. I don’t want to overburden us when we have a little one arriving soon.”

“But you really want to do it,” Brett finished.

“I do,” Pierce said. “And I think I’m finally on board with your refresh idea.”

“Oh?”

“Maybe it’s just me emotional over the memory he evoked with that food, but I keep thinking that this is the kid Pierre hauled off the streets and taught how to cook. He saw something in T. A new vibe and a new chef. It feels right now.”

Brett grinned.

“I just needed someone to come into my world and shake it up a bit,” Pierce murmured. “My little tornado.” He smiled. “I love you, my omega.”

“I love you, my alpha.” Brett eyed his plate, getting full but not ready to give up. “I’ve often wondered why T-Bone didn’t work the dinner shift. He’d brought me lunches on office days that blew me away.”

“He and Maurice had pissing contests and swung their dicks around. Chef sided with Maurice because T and Chef used to have pissing contests when Pierre was here. T didn’t want to work with them, so we moved T to running prep to keep the peace.”

“Chef bet on the wrong horse, but then Chef plays it safe. T doesn’t,” Brett replied, scooping up the last of the grits. “Sure you don’t want one last bite? I’m full and really don’t need this. I’ll eat it if you don’t, though. No way it’s going to waste.”

Pierce chuckled. “Only if you’re truly full.”

Brett handed over the fork, and Pierce got the last bite. His eyes closed, and he smiled.

“Pierre would be proud.”

Brett smiled. “I suspect this is as close to your brother’s cooking as I’ll ever get to try. Now I see why he had lines out the door when he first opened.”

Pierce smiled. “I wish he’d had a chance to meet you. He’d have loved you. Or hated you. You and he are a lot alike. Chaotic, creative energies. How you became a bookkeeper, I don’t know. Your choice of profession seems anti-chaotic.”

“I might be outwardly chaotic, but on the inside, I love peace and order. And I was really good at math, so one of my counselors suggested accounting. I shrugged and said okay because I planned to go to college and wreak havoc just to piss off my parents. I was deep in my ‘I don’t give a shit era’ back then. When I got to college, I found out I actually liked accounting, much to my surprise. So it was half wreak, half study. It’s the only reason I was only a semester behind versus flunking out or being kicked out.”

“They really did a number on you. While I don’t like that you wreaked so much havoc that it threw you off schedule, I can understand why you did it. Your parents had it coming, too.”

“Yes they did.” Brett smiled. “And I wasn’t off schedule. All that wreaking made them cut off my credit cards for a while, which made me go look for a job to fund my partying. It brought me to you.”

Pierce lowered his feet and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Brett’s. “Brought you here… where you belong.”

“Indeed,” Brett whispered before kissing his alpha.

A knock sounded at his office door.

“Can’t anyone let me ravage my omega in peace?” Pierce asked. He sat back. “Who is it?”

“Max. The charity folks have arrived for the meeting. Are you joining us?”

Brett had to smirk. Max had never opened another office door without knocking first.

“Work really gets in my way of spoiling you,” Pierce whispered to Brett. He turned his face toward the door. “I’ll be right out.” He scooted closer, stole another kiss, and rose. “Want a hand up before I go?”

“Yep, or I might get stuck here,” Brett said.

Pierce helped Brett to his feet before stealing another kiss. After he laid another kiss on Brett’s round belly, he departed.

Brett grinned, running a hand over the swell. Soft and scratchy. Chaos and order. They fit together perfectly. He sat in his office chair and rolled closer to his computer, ready to knock out payroll before he went upstairs and took a nap.

After checking on the apartment and the contractors, of course.

He scanned his office. Where had Pierce hidden his clipboard?