Chapter 10 #2
“I don’t know what to do, Gabriel,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Everything’s gone. The loan officer at the bank practically laughed at me when I called this morning. The insurance money didn’t cover even half of what I needed. When I lost that wedding reception booking, I lost it all.”
He led her to the couch and sat beside her, keeping one arm around her shoulders while he reached for the coffee and pastry with the other.
“First, you’re going to eat something,” he said, opening the bag and pulling out a chocolate croissant and a napkin. “Then we’re going to talk options.”
“Options?” She gave a bitter laugh. “What options? The Hair of the Dog is dead, Gabriel.”
“No,” he said firmly, pressing the warm coffee cup into her hands. “It’s wounded, not dead. There’s a difference.”
She took a sip of the latte, the spicy warmth spreading through her chest. “Easy for you to say. You haven’t lost everything you’ve worked for.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. Gabriel’s past losses were far greater than hers.
But he didn’t flinch. “You know I have,” he responded calmly. “And I know exactly how it feels when you think your life is over. But you’re not alone in this, Kymberlie. The whole town is rooting for you.”
She scoffed. “The whole town is probably placing bets on how long it’ll take before I have to move back in with my parents, tail between my legs.”
“That’s not true.” Gabriel broke off a piece of the croissant and held it to her lips. “Eat.”
She took the pastry, the buttery layers melting on her tongue. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until that first bite.
“You’ve been through hell this past month,” Gabriel continued. “Between the fire, all the code upgrades, and now this cancellation. But I’ve seen how you handle challenges, Kymberlie. You’re not a quitter.”
“There’s a difference between quitting and accepting reality,” she said, taking another bite of the croissant. It tasted so fucking good.
Gabriel shifted to face her more directly. “Have you considered asking your pack for help?”
She tensed. “No,” she said flatly. “No way.”
“Why not? Tyler told me that the Jacobsen Pack has helped other pack members with interest-free loans for their businesses in the past.”
He talked about this with Tyler?
Kymberlie stood, setting her coffee down so forcefully that some sloshed over the rim. “I can’t.”
“Kymberlie—”
“You don’t understand,” she said, pacing in front of the couch.
“My parents, the pack alphas, the senior pack members… they were all against me buying the club from the beginning. They told me I was throwing away my money, that I’d never make it work.
” She wrapped her arms around herself. “If I go to them now, hat in hand, it’ll just prove they were right all along. That I’m a failure.”
Gabriel rose from the couch and sank to his knees in front of her. He reached up and took her face in his hands, his green-gold eyes fierce.
“Listen to me, Kymberlie Tringstad. Bad luck is not the same thing as failure. Working yourself to the bone to bring that club up to code, turning it into a place where everyone loves to go? That’s a success. Having a fire that was completely beyond your control? That’s just shitty luck.”
Her eyes stung with tears. “They’ll never loan me the money. All I’ll get by crawling to them is a big, fat no.”
“Maybe,” he conceded. “Or maybe they’ll respect that you’re doing whatever it takes to save your business. And think that you’re showing strength, not weakness, by asking them for help.”
She drew a shaky breath. “I—I don’t know if I can face them.”
“You won’t have to do it alone,” Gabriel said simply. “I’ll come with you. I’ll be right there watching your back.”
His tone echoed with something primal and possessive. It made her wolf sit up and take notice.
“Why are you doing all this for me?” she asked, searching his face. “Why do you care so much?”
For a moment, his eyes turned amber. Then he smiled up at her.
“Because I know what it’s like to lose everything. And I don’t want that for you.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “Now, I believe you mentioned something about lasagna a couple of days ago. Any chance we can share the leftovers?”
The sudden change of subject caught her off guard, but Kymberlie was grateful for the reprieve from emotional intensity. “It’s in the fridge. I haven’t touched it.”
“Perfect. Then I won’t have to leave to pick up lunch for us,” Gabriel said, heading to the kitchen. “Why don’t you contact your pack alphas while I heat up the lasagna?”
As she watched him move confidently around her kitchen, pulling out the lasagna and salad from the fridge, finding plates in her cupboards and silverware in her drawer, Kymberlie felt something shift inside her.
The crushing despair of yesterday afternoon hadn’t disappeared, but it had lightened a little.
Heart pounding, she went to her bedroom and retrieved her phone so that she could write the most difficult email message in the world.
∞∞∞
Later, as they sat at her small dining table eating reheated lasagna that tasted great after letting the flavors meld for two days, Kymberlie strategized her meeting with the pack leadership. Gabriel provided suggestions and feedback.
By the time they were finished with dinner and loading the dishwasher, she felt a touch more confident about meeting with the pack leadership.
Her stomach still knotted with anxiety at the thought of facing them, of admitting she needed help, but Gabriel’s steady presence next to her made it seem doable.
I have to at least try, even if they turn me down.