Chapter 22 Kady
TWENTY-TWO
Kady
As I near The Valley Voice office, I have to loosen my coat from the exertion of half-jogging down the trail path. Getting lost in my work is exactly what I need.
I climb the familiar steps, my jaw dropping when I push the door open.
The office looks completely different. The usually haphazard organized shelves are now neatly labeled and don’t look like they’re about to topple over and crush someone.
All the mismatched desks are gone, new uniform ones filling the space.
Even the old monitor screens that we sometimes had to hit to get them to work have been replaced with new ones that are positioned on bendy arms, making the most of the space, which is exactly what I’d have done.
“Kady!” Devon scoots out from under his new desk, outstretching his arms and twirling in his wheeled chair. “What do you think of the new office? Calder did everything himself.”
“It’s good.” I look around again. Begrudgingly, I have to admit that I’m impressed. “But I’d have gotten rid of the…” My eyes find the only thing I can take issue with—the ancient bulletin board still mounted on the wall.
“Bulletin board?” Calder’s silky voice coming from behind me makes me jump. I turn as he strolls in wearing a crisp white shirt. “Another one is already on the way. The delivery was delayed.”
“How did you even manage to fund all this?” I ask him. “Leah struggled to get us a new camera when the photography department needed one.”
Calder scrubs his face with his hand, causing his sleeve to fall and reveal a slice of his tanned, muscular forearm.
“A newspaper who approached us for comment about you might have taken photographs on campus without obtaining the relevant permissions. They made a donation generous enough to cover all the renovations we needed.”
I keep my expression impassive. He did a good job, but I’m not going to boost his ego. I wonder if he fixed the heating in here too as it feels a lot warmer than usual.
“I don’t care how you got the money.” Devon spins again, legs lengthening before he taps the heels of his New Rocks together. “My lower back pain has pretty much vanished since sitting in this baby.”
“How many times have I told you about the importance of having good lumbar support?” He only rolls his eyes at my reprimand. “What was it you needed my help with?”
“Oh, that.” Devon shrugs. “Sorry, I completely spaced and forgot to text you. I got it finished already.” He checks his computer screen then sits bolt upright as a calendar reminder pops up. “Shit! I gotta bounce. I’ll see you later.”
He grabs his possessions then dashes out, leaving me and Calder alone.
The office is usually quiet during the day—reporters and photographers only popping in and out during free periods, the majority preferring to come in the evening.
Many of them prefer to work from a coffee shop and email their submissions, but we may see them more often now that the office has had an upgrade.
“I really have talked to him about ergonomics,” I mutter as the door slams behind Devon. “I sent him videos to watch about setting up his workstation.”
“That sounds very…” he arches a brow, perching on the edge of a desk, “thorough.”
“It was.”
He doesn’t break his stare, his hazel eyes that look just like the setting sun in this light. I wish looking into them didn’t release a shot of dopamine into my bloodstream.
“I should probably look through the inbox for leads.” I stride over to my new desk, noticing that my chair seems to have extra cushiony arms compared to the others. It looks so comfortable.
Sitting down, I debate telling him about what happened with Riven. I decide not to, not wanting him to worry and because it’s Riven’s choice who he wants to tell.
“Before I forget.” He heads over to his desk, pulling my scarf out the top drawer. “You left this at our place.”
“Thank you.” I’ve been looking for it everywhere, worried that I left it on the bus. “I didn’t have the heart to tell Delilah I lost it after she took hours knitting it.”
Our fingers brush when he passes it over, sending a tingle up my arm, before the office buzzer has us jumping apart.
“I’ll handle this.” Knowing it’s the campus postman with the mail—right on cue—I stride over to greet him.
There’s only one parcel, a royal blue box wrapped in a red ribbon. It feels like a lead weight plunges to the bottom of my gut when I read the note:
Calder, Thinking of you.
I shove it into his arms. “It’s for you.”
“For me?” His pouty lips curve down.
“Maybe from a recent date?” I can’t stop bitterness from creeping into my tone. “Or maybe you have a secret admirer?”
He unwraps it to find a cupcake inside. “I have no idea who this is from. Between classes, the office, and getting the apartment ready, I haven’t met many people.”
“Maybe someone from your former college?” I make the suggestion, but I really don’t want to hear Calder go over all the salacious details about the many girls he’s probably charmed into caring enough to send a gift.
Cautiously, he sniffs the caramel-colored icing. “Peanuts.”
I clutch my chest. “What?”
“There’re peanuts in this.” He carefully puts the box down. “I can smell them.”
“Let me see.” I pick it up to sniff it myself. There’s no mistaking the smell. “You’re right.”
“Are you sure you didn’t send this?” Calder squints at me. “Your first attempt at killing me didn’t work, so you wanted to try again?”
“This isn’t funny, Calder.” I close the lid on the offending cupcake. “You could’ve been seriously hurt.”
He taps his shirt pocket. “I’ve always got my pen with me.”
“Maybe it was an accident?” My investigative instincts kick in. “How many people know you’re allergic?”
“Trust me, there’s no one who would want to send me a cupcake.” Calder chuckles wryly. “But at least whoever it was made sure there was so much of it that I could smell it. If they wanted to hurt me, they’d have to be pretty stupid.”
A crazy thought comes to me as Kyro’s threat echoes through my brain. “You’re going to pay. You and your pack.”
“Kady?” Calder’s forehead wrinkles in concern. “What is it?”
I forcefully hurl the cupcake into the trash can.
“Riven’s telescope was one thing, but this?” I’m shaking with anger. “This is too far. It has to be them.”
“Hey, slow down.” Calder’s strong hands close around my shoulders. “What are you talking about? And what does Riven’s telescope have to do with this?”
I quickly give him a run-down of what happened this morning on Main Street and what Kyro said.
“It could just be a coincidence.” Calder doesn’t sound confident.
Mind racing, I chew my inner cheek then dive onto my knees to retrieve the cupcake box from the trash. I dig out the note, turning it over to see a logo for Springflour Bakery on it.
“Gotcha!” I stand, brushing myself down before hopping onto my computer and madly searching.
Calder cranes to look at my screen. “What’re you doing?”
“There!” I point at the computer victoriously when the search results come up. “Springflour Bakery is in Forestville.” I pull up the details. “I’ll call them to ask who sent it.”
I grab my cell phone, punch in their number, then hit call, putting it on speaker.
After a few rings, a friendly woman’s voice fills the room, full of warmth. “Good morning! Springflour Bakery. Dora speaking. How can I help you?”
“Hi, I’m hoping you can help me…?” I clear my throat. “One of your chocolate peanut cupcakes was delivered to The Valley Voice at SVU today.” I wrack my brain. “The note must have fallen off during delivery, so I’m wondering if you can tell me who sent it and who it was delivered to?”
“Oh no!” She genuinely sounds upset. “I always try to make sure my notes are tightly secured. Let me check my book.” There’s ruffling in the background. “Ah, yes. It was a delivery to Calder Soren.”
“And what about the sender?”
“There’s nothing written down here.” I hear pages flipping, then her voice brightens. “But I do remember him coming in to place the order.”
“Let me guess.” I swallow a growl. “A tall alpha, probably in a football shirt, smelling like he just walked in after a night at the bar?”
“That’s it.” The woman laughs. “I remember him well. I didn’t expect him to place an order. Very particular about wanting extra peanuts, if I recall correctly.”
I thank her for her help then hang up. “Case closed.”
I don’t know how Kyro found out about Calder’s allergy, but it looks like I should’ve taken the Blandon Pack’s threat more seriously.
“Does it usually take you thirty seconds to crack a case?” Calder teases.
“Not many people are as stupid as Kyro.” I blow out a frustrated breath. “The Blandon Pack seems to think that it’s your fault that our fake pack arrangement didn’t work out. They thought they’d have omegas falling at their feet by now.”
“Don’t sweat it.” Calder waves off my concern. “I’ve dealt with worse than a pack of childish pricks.”
Shocked, I blink up at him a few times. “You’re not mad at me?”
I expected him to fly off the handle, given his strong reaction to when he first found me at his apartment.
“No. You didn’t try to poison me,” he shrugs. “What I’m more worried about is a pack of alphas who pose a threat to your—I mean, a reporter’s—safety.”
“I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.” I roll my eyes. “Besides, it’s my mess to fix.”
“I’m the one who received a peanut cupcake, so it’s my mess too,” he counters. “I’m here to talk, if you want to. Believe it or not, I understand what you’re going through more than you think.”
“Yeah, because you’ve had your life splashed all over the place and have been ruined by a public scandal,” I mutter sarcastically.
“Actually, my parents were at the center of a huge scandal when I was growing up. It took them years to get past it.” He looks down at his lap, lost in his own thoughts.
“For years, we had to think before we acted, constantly feeling watched, like our choices were public fodder. It can take a toll on you.”