Heat Island

Chapter 1

ONE

TRINITY

I drum my fingers against the wooden tabletop, eyes darting between my laptop screen and the café entrance.

The virtual meeting that should have ended fifteen minutes ago drags on like a bad blind date.

My sister, Josephine, will walk through the doors of Perk Up any minute for our scheduled weekly coffee klatch.

I will never hear the end of it if she catches me working during this most sacred of hours.

“So as you can see, the Sunset House offers several unique advantages as a wedding venue,” I explain to the pixelated faces on my screen, voice low enough that neighboring tables won’t overhear.

“The lakeside gazebo can accommodate the ceremony for two hundred guests, and our agency has an exclusive contract with a local yacht club for events on the water?—”

A notification pops up on my phone, making me trail off.

JosieGrossie: Running 10 min late. Traffic .

Thank god. I exhale and straighten my shoulders, sitting up a little higher.

Ten minutes is more than enough time to nail this contract, stash my laptop in the bag under my chair and pose with my hand on my chin so my perpetually tardy sister thinks I’ve been patiently waiting for her this entire time.

“Trinity? Did we lose you?” The concerned face of one of my more anxious brides fills the screen.

“Nope. Still here.” I flash my most professional smile. “Let me just share my screen so you can see some examples. Last season, we had a bride make a very unique entrance on a floral-draped canoe. You might have seen the reel that went viral on Instagram.”

The truth is, I’m juggling three major events this week. Two weddings and a corporate retreat for some biotech start-up. My calendar has become a war zone of overlapping commitments.

My coffee dates with Josie might be a recurring fixture on my master schedule, but this is a big-ticket client that I have to accommodate. They could only meet with me at noon or eleven p.m.. Considering that I have to be up at five a.m. for pre-dawn yoga, this is my only reasonable option.

Any omega who wants to be taken seriously at their job has to work hard.

One who owns their own boutique event planning agency basically has to be a machine.

An alpha might land contracts with a handshake and a confident smile, but my reputation is built on attention to detail and an ironclad work ethic.

The fact that I haven’t slept over four hours in a single stretch since high school might also have something to do with my success.

“That’s exactly what I want,” the bride gushes when I pause the slideshow on a floral archway made of imported orchids that matches the color palette of the wedding party. “Isn’t it beautiful, Daddy?”

I wait for a response from my actual clients, the alpha fathers of the blushing bride who are funding her elaborate wedding.

“Trinity, these designs are exactly what we envisioned,” one of them says, his deep voice crackling through my earbuds. “But the timeline seems aggressive. Our daughter’s engagement was just announced last week, and she won’t be getting married until next June.”

I swallow hard, while the bride makes a protesting noise without actually challenging her father’s assertion. Typical omega. They might think of her as their spoiled princess, but only because she lets her alpha daddies believe everything is actually their idea.

It’s my job to play hardball for her, and this is the moment to close the deal.

“The best venues usually book at least eighteen months in advance, especially for a date in the summer. Because of the connections I’ve cultivated, I can secure your date, but we need to move quickly.

” I lean closer to my screen, lowering my voice like I’m sharing a shameful secret.

“If cost is an issue, we could discuss off-peak options. October is very affordable, though it is the rainy season.”

I don’t miss the raised eyebrows or grumbled negations. Alpha pride is always the easiest target to hit, especially when it concerns something as public as a wedding.

Another of them clears his throat. “The budget is certainly not a primary concern.”

The café door swings open, bell jingling. Josie walks in, blonde hair swinging behind her like a cape as she zeroes in on our usual table, which is currently unoccupied. A cute little wrinkle forms between her furrowed brows .

I’ve got about thirty seconds before she realizes I’m at a table in the corner, partially obscured by the long barista counter.

Watching her look around in confusion, I make a point of not hiding my sudden distraction. “Please take all the time you need to decide. Though I do have another meeting scheduled now. I’ll email a list of other venue options that typically don’t sell out for summer.”

“We’re ready to move forward,” the first alpha interjects after a squeak of alarm from his daughter. “Go ahead and send over the contract.”

“Wonderful. I’ll be in touch soon.”

I slam my laptop shut just as Josie spots me. Her eyes narrow suspiciously as she weaves through the tables.

She slides into the chair across from me, unwinding her scarf. “Were you working?”

“Just finishing up an email,” I lie, shoving my laptop into my bag. “You know, since you were running late.”

She sighs dramatically. “Trinity Jones, workaholic extraordinaire. You promised no work during sister bonding time.”

“I know, I know.” I raise my hands in surrender. “But this was for my biggest client to date. Potential six-figure contract.”

“There’s always another contract.” Josie waves that away with the unearned confidence of someone who has yet to fully enter the real world. “When’s the last time you did anything just for fun? Or went on a date?”

I roll my eyes. “I don’t have time for dating. Besides, you know how alphas get when they discover I own my own business. They either try to mansplain my job to me or immediately start planning for our future litter.”

“Not all alphas are like that. ”

“Enough are.” I grab my purse. “What are you drinking? My treat, since I broke the rules.”

“Caramel macchiato. And don’t change the subject.” Josie leans forward, her expression softening. “I worry about you, Trin. All you do is work.”

“I’m building something bigger than just me. Before and After Events is finally gaining some traction with high-end clients, and I just hired my third full-time employee. I can’t ease up now.”

Her concerned gaze trails after me as I head to the counter to order our drinks. I do my best to ignore it.

The truth is always more complicated than it needs to be.

Work and career success fills a void, keeping me too busy to dwell on anything else.

In a world that expects omegas to prioritize family and mating, my ambition makes me an outlier.

Easier to bury myself in color swatches and venue contracts than face the pitying looks from relatives at every family gathering.

I return to the table and find Josie scrolling through her phone.

“How’s the hospital?” I asked. Josie just started a new job as a nurse aide. I’m hoping she’ll like it enough to consider going to nursing school.

“Understaffed, as usual.” She sets her phone face down on the table. “But I watched twins get delivered yesterday. It was so sweet. The parents had been trying for years.”

“That’s amazing.” I stir a packet of artificial sweetener into my black coffee, already dreading the taste.

Consoling a parade of brides anxious over their wedding dress sizes going from 4 to 6 has given me a complicated relationship with carbohydrates this week.

“You think you might stick with the nursing thing? ”

Josie points a whipped cream covered finger at me before popping it into her mouth. “Don’t start.”

“Start what? I didn’t say anything.”

She rolls her eyes. “Not all of us want to earn two degrees in four years and keep our noses perpetually on the grindstone, you know.”

Blonde, blue-eyed and candy sweet, Josephine Becker excelled in every aspect of college except for the academics.

If only she could earn course credits for attending sorority mixers or sweet-talking professors into overlooking drop deadlines for the classes she stopped attending a few weeks into the semester.

She changed majors at least seven times before taking this semester off to focus just on working so she can figure out what she wants to do long-term. Something tells me the bodily fluids and general horror of a hospital floor will not hold her interest for long.

Our general attitudes about life are as different as our appearances.

Her pale skin burns with even a hint of sun, while mine roasts to the golden brown of a toasted almond.

The blonde hair that I used to do up in pigtails when she was younger looks like it grew on a different family tree from my dark and coiled curls that look more like a bush in the humid, city summers.

Our mother describes my rich, brown eyes as soulful, while Josie’s are the piercing blue of a pool so clear, you can see all the way to the bottom.

For the sake of my self-esteem, I try to spend as little as possible dwelling on the differences in our physical features.

“I just think nursing isn’t really my calling, you know?” Josie sips her caramel macchiato, leaving a smudge of whipped cream on her upper lip. “I mean, I like helping people, but the hours are brutal, and there’s so much gross stuff.”

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “So you’re changing jobs. Again.”

“Not exactly.” She fidgets with her straw wrapper, twisting it around her finger.

Something in her tone makes me set my coffee down. I know my sister, and this particular brand of nervous energy usually precedes something dramatic.

“What does not exactly mean?” I ask, already bracing myself.

“I’m going to extend my break from school.” She rushes the words out, then looks up at me with those big blue eyes, searching for approval.