Sixty
SIXTY
Mia
NAT HAD URGED ME TO take my time with the decision to sell the restaurant. But with every day that passed, my certainty that it was the right thing to do only grew. The thing that still woke me up at night was my uncertainty about what came next.
“A vacation,” Luca had replied firmly, when I shared my misgivings one night in the nest. “What comes next is a vacation .”
And that was all well and good, as far as it went. I’d been joking for a while now that being a stay-at-home omega was sounding better and better. But deep down, I knew I’d only be happy playing house for so long before I lost my mind with boredom.
“I think it’s time I started talking to the staff about this,” I told Nat one morning, as we were stumbling around trying to get ready for work after yet another night of not enough sleep.
“You already know it’s going to affect morale,” Nat said, without judgment. “You’ll start with Shani, I assume?”
I nodded. “Yes. She’s been such a huge part of turning the place around. I don’t feel right keeping her in the dark.”
I scheduled a one-on-one meeting with her on Sunday night, so she’d have her Monday off to process the news. Once everyone else left, I led her to one of the tables in the dining room.
She sat down across from me, her serene expression unchanged, even though sadness shone from her dark eyes.
“You’re planning on closing the place down, aren’t you,” she said, before I had a chance to get a word out. “I’ve known something was off for a couple of weeks now.”
For the first time since I’d made my final decision, I felt my throat tighten around the prospect of tears. I swallowed them down, doing Shani the courtesy of holding her gaze as I spoke.
“Not shutting it down,” I said. “But we’ve made the decision to sell, if we can find new management willing to take it on. And you should know that it can take months, sometimes even years to find the right buyer for a place like this.”
Saying that aloud made me feel like gravity was dragging me down with exhaustion—like my body suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. “So, nothing’s likely to change anytime soon,” I went on gamely. “I just wanted you to know it was on the table—”
“I’d like to buy it,” Shani said, cutting me off.
I blinked at her. “You...would?”
She nodded. “Of course I would, Mia. It’s the Elderflower Inn ,” she added, as though it was an explanation. “I’d have to talk to my co-mates, obviously, since they’d be the ones bankrolling it.”
I sat there for a second, waiting for my brain to reboot.
Shani’s co-mates, who ran a highly successful construction business. Who’d supported her ambition of graduating from culinary school after successfully raising the pack’s pups. Who were, not to put too fine a point on it, loaded .
I realized with a jolt that I was still staring at her blankly, my mouth hanging open in shock.
“You’re serious?” I managed.
She raised a wry eyebrow. “You don’t have to sound quite so skeptical, boss. I know I’m still a wet-behind-the-ears newbie compared to some, but I had a pair of very good teachers.”
“You’re serious ,” I repeated, this time in wonder.
She smiled and nodded.
“Hold that thought for me, okay?” I raised a finger as I pushed my chair back and stood up. “Nat? Nat ! You need to come out here right now !”
On reflection, given the events of the last few months, I probably should have modulated my voice so it didn’t sound like SSG gang members were trying to batter down the doors. Nat came out from the back at a run, sliding to a stop and looking around wildly for the emergency.
“Sorry,” I said, lifting my hands as though to calm a wild animal. “Sorry! We’re fine. It’s Shani—she and her pack want to buy the restaurant!”
His mouth worked silently for a moment.
“You do?” he asked weakly.
“To be clear,” Shani replied, “ I want to buy the restaurant, assuming you’re both dead set about offering it for sale. It’ll take a day or two of looking sweet and fluttering my eyelashes to convince my co-mates it’s something they want to do, too.”
Nat pulled out the nearest chair and sank into it shakily. “Oh my god. This is perfect.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing it. “We need to make this happen.”
Shani’s grin lit the room. “I know I’m getting ahead of myself here, but I don’t suppose one or both of you would be willing to stay on for a bit in an advisory capacity? I’ve got a niece who’s a whiz at more than social media marketing, but she’s also young yet.”
“Maleeka wants to get into restaurant management?” I asked.
Shani chuckled. “Yeah, she caught the bug. I blame you for that, just so you know. I do want her to finish up her business degree, but she doesn’t have many classes left to go.”
Nat met my eyes. “I, for one, would be more than happy to stay on as interim manager while she does that.”
“And while she learns the ropes,” Shani added, still smiling. Her gaze fell on me, soft and inquiring.
I coughed to clear my throat, which still felt suspiciously tight. “You’ve already learned all my tricks,” I told her. “I’m willing to stick around for a bit to make sure you’re comfortable running the kitchen, but I think it might be best for both of us if I didn’t overstay my welcome. You’ll need to make the place your own.”
Her smile softened. “Ah, well, we can fight about that part after I talk to my alphas. Which I will do as soon as I get home tonight.”
My heart was doing a strange, thrumming thing that was making me feel a little lightheaded. “You do that,” I told her. “I can’t think of anyone else in the world I’d rather have at the helm, Shani.”
“Oh, my gracious—stop that right now. You’re going to make me all teary-eyed,” she said with a laugh.
I joined her, a bit wetly. “Sorry... I can’t help it. Go on, go home and disrupt your pack’s sleep schedule with the news that they’re buying you a restaurant.”
She pushed to her feet and rounded the table, wrapping me in a hug. “Will do, boss. I’ll let you know as soon as I have a solid yes or no answer.” She pulled back and raised a hand to half-hide her mouth, stage-whispering, “Don’t worry—it’ll be a yes. My eyelash-fluttering skills are excellent .”
I laughed again, feeling lighter than I had in ages. “They’d better be,” I threatened.
Nat and I watched as she disappeared into the back, gathering up her things and heading out of the employee entrance. When the sound of the heavy steel door closing behind her reached us through the silence of the empty restaurant, I turned and half-fell into Nat’s arms, after which I promptly burst into tears.
He clasped me against his chest tightly.
“Good tears, right?” he asked, murmuring the words into my hair.
I hesitated, prodding at the space that seemed to have opened up inside my chest. It ached... but more like the clean ache after an infected tooth had been pulled than the bitter ache of regret.
“Yes, I think so,” I said into his chest.
Everyone else was asleep when we got home—all except for Princess, who acted as our unofficial welcome-home committee of one... mostly because she wanted a cat treat from the bag safely hidden in the fridge.
Then, the following morning, it was our turn to sleep through Luca and the alphas leaving for work, after I fell asleep on Nat’s bed with him still holding me. It wasn’t until Monday evening that we all ended up awake and in the same place at the same time.
I had a pot of French onion soup bubbling on the stove, a salad of roasted winter vegetables waiting in the fridge, and Nat was helping me cut hollows out of six sourdough bread bowls as they trooped in, talking quietly.
“Evening, you two,” Zalen greeted. “Whatever that is, it smells amazing .”
“Come back down as soon as you’re ready,” I told him. “It’ll only take a few more minutes to melt the cheese. Also, we have news to share. Big news.”
Zalen and Byron exchanged a look, but it was Emiel who spoke.
“Us too,” he said. “But you can go first.”
“We’ll be right back,” Luca put in. “News can wait until I’m stuffing my face. I’m starving .”
“Hurry up, then,” I told them, about to burst with the need to relay Shani’s proposal, now that the opportunity was at hand.
They were good to their word, coming back down to the dining room just as Nat and I were ferrying in the hollowed sourdough rounds filled with fragrant onions and thick broth; each one topped with bubbly melted Swiss cheese, barely browned on top.
As soon as everyone was settled with their soup and salad, Zalen gestured with his silverware. “Emiel’s right—you first. Good news, I hope?”
“If it actually materializes, then absolutely,” Nat began.
“One of the chefs at the Elderflower Inn wants to buy it,” I said. “Shaniqua Jones, my second in command. Her pack is in the construction industry, and apparently they could afford to do it, if she can convince them.”
“Oh.” Zalen sounded taken aback, rather than immediately enthusiastic. “I didn’t realize you’d be able to find a buyer that quickly.”
A prickle of unease shivered down my spine. He’d made it sound like if there was any outstanding debt left after the sale, he’d be willing to clear it for us. Had he needed more time to get the funds together?
“Is that going to be a problem?” I asked cautiously.
Byron grunted. “Nah. You’re just gonna force him to modify his grand proposal, that’s all. He had it all worked out in his head before.” He broke through the crust of cheese over his soup and blew on a spoonful before lifting it to his lips.
I glanced back at Zalen, a question in my eyes—but Nat beat me to it. “What kind of grand proposal are we talking about, exactly?”
“Well,” Zalen began, sounding uncharacteristically uncertain. “I thought that maybe...”
“He wants to start an in-house culinary school at the Hope Project,” Emiel interrupted. “We’ve been talking for ages about trying to arrange some kind of college degree program for the kids, but we could never quite make it happen.”
Zalen nodded. “I thought, if it was going to take a long time to find a buyer for your restaurant, that maybe we could collaborate on a work experience program of some kind.”
For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, I was rendered speechless as new possibilities unspooled themselves inside my mind, paving a path into the future.
“Maybe we still can,” I said faintly.