Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
When Kymberlie pulled her phone out of her back pocket, Melissa Hartmann’s name flashed on the screen. Perfect timing.
“Speaking of getting things done, it’s the bride,” she told Gabriel and Tyler. “Probably calling to make sure we’re still on track for Christmas Eve.” She flashed them a triumphant smile before tapping the Answer button.
“Melissa! I was just about to call you with some great news. We just passed inspection, and we’re officially reopening tomorrow. Everything is all set for your reception.”
The silence on the other end stretched a beat too long.
“Melissa?”
A shaky intake of breath came through the phone, followed by a voice that sounded nothing like the cheerful, organized bride Kymberlie had been working with for the past months. “Kymberlie, I… I don’t know how to tell you this.”
Fuck. More bad news? A ball of ice congealed in Kymberlie’s stomach. “What’s wrong?”
“The wedding is off.” Melissa’s voice cracked on the last word.
Kymberlie felt like someone had just punched her in the gut, driving all the air from her lungs. “I’m sorry, what did you say?” she croaked.
“Jason and I… we…” A sob broke through. “We’re not getting married. I found out he’s been cheating on me with his ex. He said he’s sorry and he won’t ever contact her again, but I can’t… I just can’t go through with it. I told him we’re through.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath Kymberlie’s feet. She turned away from Gabriel and Tyler, not wanting them to see her face.
“Oh, Melissa, I’m so sorry,” she managed. “What an awful thing to happen to you.”
“I know this probably puts you in a terrible position,” Melissa continued, her words tumbling out between hitching breaths. “With Christmas just a week away… I feel so bad about the short notice.”
Kymberlie’s mind raced, calculating the financial impact of this fresh disaster even as she tried to find words of comfort.
The Hartmann-Koenig reception was supposed to be her financial salvation—a full-service event with an open bar, steak dinner for a hundred and fifty guests, and a hefty venue fee.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” Kymberlie said, keeping her voice gentle even as panic clawed at her throat. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
Another sob. “I’m fine. I’m staying with my sister. I just—I can’t believe this is happening to me!”
Kymberlie closed her eyes, her own problems momentarily eclipsed by genuine sympathy for the bride. Her wolf whined in shared distress. “I’m so sorry, Melissa. Look, I know you’ve got a million things to deal with right now, but please don’t worry about the reception. We can figure that out later.”
“I already called Cinnamon + Sugar about the cake and canceled the DJ,” Melissa said. “They’re keeping their deposits too, of course. It’s all such a waste.”
The word “waste” hit Kymberlie like a physical blow. All that money, all her plans, all her own desperate hopes—wasted.
“Listen,” Kymberlie said, the words escaping before she could stop them, “I know you’re in a rough spot right now. If you need the deposit back, I’m sure I could work something out.”
Tyler’s eyes widened. He shook his head frantically and stage-whispered, “No! What the fuck are you thinking, Kymber?”
“No,” Melissa echoed, surprising her. “No, that’s okay, Kymberlie.
I appreciate the thought but you’ve probably already ordered all the food and booze.
And I know your place almost burned down a few weeks ago.
I can’t ask for that money back on top of everything else.
I knew the deposit was nonrefundable when Jason and I signed your contract. ”
Relief and shame warred within Kymberlie. Melissa and Jason’s deposit had been substantial—five thousand dollars—but it wasn’t nearly enough to save her. Not with the stack of invoices on her desk and the food and drinks she couldn’t return.
And without the remaining payment for the reception, Kymberlie wouldn’t be able to cover payroll to reopen the club. Micah, Zoey, and Karl had all found temporary holiday jobs over at the Bearpaw Springs Lodge, but they were pinning their post-New Year’s hopes on The Hair of the Dog reopening.
“Thank you. And I’m really sorry about what happened to you,” Kymberlie managed.
“I should go,” Melissa said. “I just… I wanted to tell you myself.”
After they said their goodbyes, Kymberlie stood motionless, phone still pressed to her ear long after the call had ended.
Her radiant glow from passing inspection had vanished, replaced by a cold, heavy certainty: she was going to lose everything.
“Kymberlie?” Gabriel’s voice came from behind her.
She lowered the phone slowly, unable to turn and face him. The weight of failure squeezed her chest, making it hard to breathe.
Thanks to their shifter-enhanced senses, he and Tyler had overheard Melissa’s end of the conversation.
“Damn,” Tyler said. “That’s rough timing.”
Kymberlie laughed, a hollow sound with no humor in it. “Yeah.”
She felt Gabriel move closer. “The bride’s deposit should cover you for a while, right? At least until you can book another event.”
“January is always a dead month. Everyone’s all partied out after the holidays,” Kymberlie replied, still not looking at him. “I really needed to make a profit in December to cover me until Valentine’s Day.”
Tyler’s hazel eyes were filled with a mixture of concern and something else. Something that looked dangerously like pity. “Hey, Kymber, we’ll figure something out. You can ask the pack to—”
“No!” The word came out sharper than she intended, her pride flaring up like a wounded animal. “I don’t need them to rub my nose in my failure.”
“Kymberlie—” Gabriel said.
She finally looked up. He, too, wore a rage-inducing expression of sympathy mixed with pity.
“I-I need some time to think.” She backed away. “Lock up when you leave, would you, Tyler?”
Gabriel reached for her arm. “Kymber, don’t shut me out. Let me help.”
She jerked away, unable to bear his pity when she felt so raw. “I don’t need your help or your pity,” she snapped. “I’ve handled worse on my own.”
The hurt that flashed across his face sent a pang of regret through her, but she was already on her way out of the kitchen, heading for the front door with long strides and as much dignity as she could muster.
Her wolf howled in protest, wanting to turn back, to accept the comfort Gabriel offered.
But Kymberlie pushed forward, emerging into the swirling snow.
She climbed into her truck, then sat for a long moment, trying to get a grip on her emotions before she started bawling.
All those years of working seven days a week, all the sacrifices she’d made, all the times she’d insisted to her family and her pack that she knew what she was doing—and now, they were all going to see her lose everything.
The thought of their faces when they heard the news made her stomach turn. Bearpaw Ridge was a small, tight-knit community. She figured everyone would hear what had happened by lunchtime tomorrow.
∞∞∞
The drive home passed in a blur. By the time she reached her small house on the edge of town, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across her snow-covered lawn.
Inside, she didn’t bother turning on the lights. What was the point? In the gathering darkness, she trudged to her sofa and sank down.
Outside her window, snow continued to fall in thick, silent flakes, adding another blanket of isolation between her and the world. She ignored the calls and texts that lit up her phone.
She turned on the TV and watched a cooking show. After a few episodes, she realized it was dinnertime. And she had an untouched pan of lasagna and a bowl of salad in the fridge.
But she wasn’t hungry. In fact, the thought of food made her stomach heave.
Despite her attempts to distract herself with TV, the reality of her situation wouldn’t stop unfolding in her mind.
The large beer, wine, and spirits order she’d placed for the wedding reception, that she’d already paid for.
Another couple of thousand dollars for the large order of unreturnable appetizers, steaks, and side dishes currently sitting over at Justin Long’s Wildcat Springs Restaurant, in the walk-in cooler space he’d kindly loaned her.
The mortgage payments on her house. The loan payments on her truck.
And worst of all, the commercial loan on The Hair of the Dog itself.
She saw her future unfolding in slow motion, like a car hitting a patch of black ice and spinning out of control. Five years of backbreaking work, of proving herself, of building something from nothing—all of it about to collapse like a house of cards.
Her wolf whined again. Wolves and their wolf shifter counterparts weren’t meant to be alone in a crisis. Her beast-half urged her to seek the comfort and protection of her pack. To run to her alphas, to her family, to let them surround her with their strength when her own had failed.
To ask her pack for help.
But the thought made her feel ill. She could already picture the bank taking the club, Dad’s “I told you so” lecture, the pitying looks from those pack members who’d told her she was in over her head.
No, she couldn’t face any of them. Not yet. Maybe never.
And then there was Gabriel.
Her phone lit up again as if summoned by the thought of him, his text message appearing on the screen: I’m here. I’ll come over if you need me.
And then, a moment later: Do you still have any of that lasagna left?
Guilt twisted through her. He’d already gone above and beyond to help her pass the inspection.
And what had she done? Thrown his kindness back in his face. The memory of his hurt expression when she’d snapped at him stabbed her like a knife.
Her wolf sat up at the sight of his text, nearly overwhelming her with the instinct to call him, to hear his voice, to accept the comfort he offered. The bond between her wolf and his sabertooth cat was already so strong, it scared her.
But what could she possibly say to him now? Sorry I bit your head off for trying to help, and by the way, I’m a complete failure who can’t even keep her business afloat long enough to recoup the money I spent on all those safety improvements?
No. She couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in his eyes, couldn’t stand to watch him realize she wasn’t the capable woman she’d worked so hard to project.
Her phone lit up again. Maggie this time. Of course her friend would know what had just happened, since Cinnamon + Sugar was supposed to make Melissa and Jason’s wedding cake.
Just heard from Melissa Hartmann. She’s canceling the wedding? WTF? Call me, hon. We’ll figure something out.
Then Tyler: Hey Kymber, how are you doing? Gabriel’s worried about you. Don’t do anything stupid. We’ll get you through this.
Then her sister Violet: Maggie told me about the wedding getting canceled. You okay?
The messages kept coming, each one a reminder of all the people she’d have to face tomorrow, all the expectations she’d failed to meet, all the help she’d have to ask for if she wanted to save her business.
But asking for help meant admitting failure. And admitting failure meant proving right every person who’d ever doubted her.
Her wolf howled in frustration. Pack means survival. Lone wolf means death.
But Kymberlie wasn’t just a wolf. She was human, too, and she needed time to absorb this wound. Maybe tomorrow, she could get back on her feet and figure out her next move.
With trembling fingers, she powered off her phone and went to her bedroom. She pulled open her nightstand drawer and shoved the phone inside, burying it beneath a tangle of charging cables.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Her bed called to her, the only comfort she could accept right now. She crawled under the thick down comforter, pulling it over her head to create a cave of warmth and darkness where no one could find her.
Gabriel’s scent on her sheets and pillows, fading fast, made her miss his big, warm body draped over her. She couldn’t help remembering how his talented mouth and fingers could drown out her worries and make her forget everything but his touch.
A long time passed before sleep finally came. Her wolf finally settled, not from contentment but from exhaustion, curling into a tight ball of misery that matched her own huddled form.