Chapter 23 Knox
Knox
"Ahem." Arthur stands on a chair, one hand raised for silence. His eyebrow is caked in dried mud. "On behalf of the Lake's Edge, I would like to present this year's Cup to the team whose captain also controls the beer taps."
"Conflict of interest!" someone from the other team shouts.
"Well, we did actually win, so... ignored." Arthur holds up the pint glass. "To us."
"TO US!" sixteen muddy guys bellow.
The Lake's Edge on a Saturday night is loud on a normal day, but tonight it's at a different level, two full rugby squads crammed into a space meant for maybe forty people, plus the regulars.
Mason's at the bar, laughing at something Julio said. He's got his fifth beer, or seventh (I've lost count), and from the outside you'd never guess he was yelling in the mud about an omega an hour ago.
"—and then his mom calls," Julio is saying, "and she's like, Tony, if you don't pick a caterer by Friday I'm hiring the woman who did your cousin's quinceanera—"
I half-listen, nursing my beer. The bar smells like hops and wet grass and a dozen different alpha scents spiked with testosterone, and I should be fully here. Except there's a part of my brain running a parallel thread... with Beth.
The fact that she might leave... that I don't know what to do to make her stay without accidentally nudging her away.
"Knox." Arthur slides a fresh pint toward me. "Everything alright?"
Mason drops into the stool next to me before I can answer, his cheeks flushed, his hair damp. "Big Terry just beat Adam and Matty at arm wrestling. At the same time."
"Of course he did," Arthur says.
"Matty looks traumatized."
Right on cue, a thunderous cheer erupts from the corner booth. Two more challengers bite the dust, groaning as their hands hit the wood. Big Terry flexes, and his omega girlfriend climbs into his lap, kissing him.
I drink my beer and let the noise wash over me, and the parallel thread keeps running.
Here's what I know. Beth opened Wildflower and Vine with a loan. The loan is heavy. The buyout offer from that investment group covers it, but accepting means losing the shop, and losing the shop means there's nothing tying her to Lakeview anymore.
So the equation is simple. If the shop financially becomes something she'd be crazy to walk away from, then the math changes. And one of the reasons she tells herself when she's lying awake at three a.m. disappears.
"—getting a caterer is a nightmare," Julio says to our teammate Dustin over his pint, "but the bakeries? Forget it. Every place doing luxury custom wedding cakes in a fifty-mile radius is booked solid through November. It's like everyone decided to get married this exact year—"
"Everyone is getting married this year," Arthur, who's apparently also been listening, confirms.
"It's like a virus," Mason mutters.
And just like that, the parallel thread clicks.
I pull out my phone under the bar, open my contacts, and scroll to F.
My cousin Felix's omega is Naomi Quinn. And Naomi is close friends with Dorian Beaumont. As in, the billionaire pastry mogul behind Beaumont Patisserie. Who just happens to be expanding into...
"Hey." I lean to Mason and Arthur. "I need to make a call, be right back."
Mason slides my pint closer to himself. "I'll guard your beer with my life."
***
The sidewalk outside the Lake's Edge is a welcome break from the sweltering heat of the bar. Through the front windows, I can my teammates and the other team passing pitchers of beer over each other's heads.
I lean against the brick wall and pull up Felix's contact.
Four rings. Five. I'm about to hang up when—
"Knox! Hey, man!" Felix says over the sound of bubbling water. "Sorry, we're just chilling in our new jacuzzi. Everything okay?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," I say, turning away from the glare of a passing set of headlights. "Listen, I actually need a massive favor. Do you think you could run something by Naomi for me?"
"Yeah, I don't see why not," he says. "What is it?"
"I have a pitch for someone I know. If I send you the details, could Naomi just... put it in front of Dorian Beaumont?"
"Of course, Knox. Send me whatever you've got, and I'll ask her to look at it. It might take a bit, though, as she's swamped right now. Hope that's okay?"
A heavy knot in my chest loosens a fraction. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Felix. Seriously, I owe—"
There's a massive crash from inside the bar, the sound followed immediately by roaring voices: "WHERE IS SHE?!"
"Whoa," Felix says. "Everything okay over there?"
The heavy wooden doors of the bar suddenly burst open, spilling loud music and golden light onto the sidewalk.
"I gotta go," I say quickly, watching Mason and Arthur hurry out. "I'll text you the details tonight. Thanks again, Felix."
I shove the phone in my pocket and push off the wall. Arthur is speed walking, wide-eyed and frantic, and Mason is following right beside him.
I jog to catch up. "What's going on?"
“We have a situation,” Mason says, voice clipped, as we hustle down the sidewalk.
“We need Clementine!” Arthur blurts.