Fifty
FIFTY
Mia
“YOU COULD COME home.” Nat’s knuckles were white as he clutched the pen he’d been holding when I’d walked into his office at the restaurant. “We could close the place for a few days. And... it wouldn’t have to mean anything more than that. Not if you don’t want it to.”
It sounded like the final words had been torn from him.
“No thanks,” I told him. “I’m good. The others have already agreed to help, on the off chance that my replacement blocker pill is a dud. I just wanted to tell you so you’d know I might be AWOL if it doesn’t work.”
Silence fell for a moment.
“That’s what the package was last week? Your blocker?” he asked, his tone cautious.
“Yeah,” I told him. “It was. Is whoever destroyed it still going after our mail? Did you get anything else useful off the security camera?”
“I don’t know if they’re still going after the mail or not,” Nat said. “Nothing has been delivered to the house since your package came.”
I shook my head in frustration and started pacing, not that there was a lot of space to do so in the cramped, messy office. “There are too many weird things happening in our orbit. Something else is going on.”
Nat loosened his death grip on the pen enough to tap it rapidly back and forth on the desk. “Maybe. I’m trying not to see a bunch of connections that aren’t really there.”
I’d always hated it when people spouted outlandish sounding conspiracy theories, so it wasn’t like I could really argue the point.
‘But, officer! There was a grease spill at a restaurant, and then a heavy rack fell off its hooks, and someone is stealing our mail, and the rival restaurant down the street is run by a gang!’
Yeah, I imagined the authorities would be super interested in that crazy-sounding story.
“I get it,” I said. “I just wish there was some way to root out the cause so we can deal with it at the source.”
“Well, for whatever it’s worth—I have security cameras set up here at the restaurant, as well as the one at the house.” Nat stopped tapping the pen and deliberately put it down. “And there haven’t been any more incidents here, at least.”
I fetched up against a set of wire storage shelves holding banker’s boxes full of old records. “Thank goodness for small mercies.” With a sigh, I scrubbed hard at my face. “I feel awful about maybe having to close things down for a few days.”
“Meanwhile, I’m not happy about the idea of a bunch of alphas you barely know pawing all over you.” As soon as they were out, Nat looked like he desperately wanted to pull the words back.
But I could be the bigger person here.
“Then it’s just as well it’s my decision and not yours,” I said lightly. “Anyway, Zalen has your cell number. He’ll keep you informed if anything comes up, and if I can’t tell you myself for whatever reason.”
I was pretty sure Nat was going to need reconstructive tongue surgery, given how hard he appeared to be biting it—but to his credit, he managed not to say anything else on the subject. Instead, he redirected the conversation to work stuff, as we discussed the last week’s welcome increase in sales volume and nightly covers.
After close, I went home, where I discovered that Luca’s heat hadn’t started yet. He was miserable—twitchy and feverish—but I managed to get some crackers and broth into him.
“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” I asked, still not entirely sure where the two of us stood after the past several days of mishaps and misunderstandings.
He shook his head, not meeting my eyes. “No. Better not. I’ll just be tossing and turning all night. I’ll keep you up.”
I chewed my lip. “Have you thought about what I said this morning? About me sort of being in and out during your heat?”
It sounded wishy-washy to my own ears. Doubly so, since even the underlying concept of me popping in and out of Luca’s nest at my own convenience was wishy-washy.
Luca hesitated. “I mean... you’ve got other things to worry about besides attending someone’s free multi-day porn show as moral support. Honestly, the closer this gets, the less enthusiastic I am about people I care about seeing me like that.”
My heart twisted in my chest, and not just because I’d be all about the free porn show if Luca didn’t sound like he was being marched to the gallows. But I’d already made Luca’s heat too much about me, and not nearly enough about him.
“It’s whatever you want, Luca,” I told him earnestly. “Whatever will make you most comfortable. Is it all right if I hug you now?”
The desire for physical contact during the run-up to heat was a bit of a mixed bag, but Luca only nodded tiredly and leaned into me. He was clammy and shaky and listless, but it was still a huge relief to wrap my arms around him and squeeze.
We would be all right, I told myself firmly. We’d just gotten sucked into a difficult situation, further complicated by the volume of hormones flying around—that was all. My pill would arrive in the mail on Friday, and it would work fine. Luca would get through his heat, and by this time next week, everything would be back to normal. We could pick up whatever pieces still needed picking up, and then we could all move on with our lives.
Wednesday came and went; Luca’s heat still didn’t start.
“Stress,” Zalen said. “If it’s bad enough, it can throw off the timing by a couple of days. Byron got some Gatorade into him earlier.”
He and Byron were switching off, one of them going to the Hope Project as they normally would, while the other stayed home in case Luca needed them. I wondered, with a little pang, how many times they’d done this before. Luca skipped heats as often as he could. But unlike me, he listened to his doctor and had a natural heat once a year or so to reduce the likelihood of getting cancer of the reproductive tract at a young age.
In the past twenty-four hours, I’d convinced myself that Luca’s change of heart about having me in the heat nest was a good thing. If the Mexican pill showed up on time and worked as advertised—which it would , damn it—then I’d only be torturing myself by playing at being part of a caring pack.
Better to keep things as they were, as much as possible. I was a guest here. It was a temporary situation while I figured out what the hell I was going to do about my marriage situation. I’d made a really good omega friend, whether or not that friendship came with sexual benefits attached. I’d played around with Byron, because Byron didn’t do serious relationships. He was safe.
At some point in the near future, I would move on in my life and do... something else. I had no idea what ‘ something else ’ would end up looking like, but that was just how life worked. I’d figure it out when the time was right. In the meantime, I just had to make it through until Friday when my pill would arrive.
Luca was still stuck in his miserable pre-heat when I left for work on Thursday morning. Lunch service was slow. When the mid-afternoon lull hit, I went outside for a five-minute break, in hopes that some fresh air would calm my nerves.
Shaniqua looked up as I approached, smiling in greeting. There were no cigarettes in sight this time, the slow, easy day giving her no cause to break into her emergency stash.
“Hey, boss,” she greeted. “You needed a bit of fresh air, too, I’m guessing?”
“Great minds think alike,” I agreed. “How are you doing? All good?”
“Can’t complain,” she said, eyes crinkling at the corners before she sobered. “I’d been wanting to ask you, though—and do feel free to tell me this is none of my business. But the blocker shortage is all over the news these days.”
“And my being in pre-heat isn’t exactly subtle to anyone who isn’t a beta,” I finished, resigned. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a pill arriving Friday. And if the worst happens, I promise everyone will still be paid.”
Shani’s dark eyes held mine. “That’s not really why I asked, boss—though I’m sure the staff appreciates it. I asked because I need to make sure you’re set up with something safe, just in case. Are you?”
I started to answer, and humiliatingly, had to pause when my throat closed up. I coughed and tried again, viscerally aware of the odd power dynamics at play in this conversation. I was Shani’s boss. Shani was an experienced, middle-aged pack mother who’d shepherded her offspring through first heats and into adulthood. She couldn’t have failed to notice the rift in my beta marriage to Nat, and she was worried enough for me that she was skirting the edges of our professional relationship to check on me.
My own mother—a loving beta—had done her very best for me while having no clue what it meant to come of age as an omega. For a horrible instant, my body tried to sway forward as though it wanted to collapse into Shani’s arms and cling.
I took a deep breath, and then another. “Yes, I have a contingency plan in place,” I said, in the most formal tone I could manage.
“Okay, good. That’s good,” Shani said. “As long as you’re safe, then everything else will work itself out.”
“I’m safe,” I said. That much, at least, I was sure of. “And, Shani? Thank you for caring enough to ask.”
Shani smiled. “Hey, now. We tough-as-nails omegas have to stick together, you know.”
“That we do,” I agreed, still a bit choked up.
The dinner crowd made up for the slow lunch service. The Elderflower Inn was hopping—every table occupied and a line of diners waiting. The kitchen was in fine form, sending the food out fast and delicious to hungry patrons.
Nights like this, I could begin to remember what had drawn me to this career in the first place. Not awards and star ratings, but the satisfaction of running a talented and dedicated crew of professionals, providing memorable meals to appreciative diners.
“How long on those potatoes?” I called, sliding a perfectly cooked pair of lamb medallions onto a sparkling plate decorated with an artful smear of gastrique.
Toby’s reply was drowned out by a scream from the dining area. A second scream followed, and the entire line froze as complete chaos erupted from the front of house.
A jolt of adrenaline hit me so hard that I swayed.
No, no... oh, god, what now?
“Burners off!” I yelled over the noise. “Make everything safe, then get outside! Use the back door—don’t worry about the food!”
I turned off my grill with shaking hands, feeling like I was about to pass out. Shani was pulling Toby away from the pass-through, where he’d apparently been trying to get a glimpse of whatever was going on up front. She pushed him bodily toward the back, where the others were already hurrying for the exit.
She gave me a questioning look.
“You too,” I told her. “I’ll find out what’s happening and let everyone know if it’s safe to come back in.”
She gave a reluctant nod, worry shining from her eyes.
Straightening my spine, I pushed open the door to the dining area. I was prepared for anything from a patron having a heart attack to a fire. What I found was a virtual stampede of diners heading for the exits, with Nat and a gaggle of near-hysterical serving staff doing their best to make it as orderly as possible.
Very slowly, I turned to look in the direction everyone was running away from. The south wall and floor of the dining room was... moving .
Scuttling .
As I stared in abject horror, my brain reorganized the image into thousands of scurrying cockroaches, spreading across the room as they frantically tried to escape the light. I stood frozen in place, shuddering violently, my mind flatly refusing to take in the implications of what I was seeing.
It felt as though I was floating slightly above my own body as I turned on my heel and walked toward the employee entrance in the back. I didn’t feel the heavy steel door as I pushed it open. Behind the restaurant, my kitchen staff stood in a tight huddle, their voices an undifferentiated buzz in my ears.
“Go home, everyone,” I said blankly. “The restaurant is closed.”
The buzz rose in a cacophony of questions I couldn’t hear. A hand gripped my bicep. I shook it off and kept walking. I didn’t remember getting to my car. I didn’t remember unlocking it or starting the engine. I didn’t remember the drive to Ladue, or letting myself into the house.
When I came back to awareness, I was standing in front of Luca’s closed door. My face was a mass of tears and snot; my breath coming in choking, cut-off sobs. I raised my shaking hand and knocked weakly on the doorframe.
The door opened barely a second later. Zalen stood in the entrance, disheveled and bare to the waist. His eyes went wide.
“Mia?” An instant later, I was in his arms—not sure if I’d moved, or he had. “Mia, are you hurt? What’s happened, what’s wrong?”
I couldn’t form words, so I only shook my head, pressing my face against tawny skin and weeping as though I would die.