Chapter 5
FIVE
A rtek hung up, turning to find his mother examining his tie rack with a critical eye.
“Mother.”
“Hmm?” She held up two nearly identical blue ties. “The Windsor knot is more traditional, but perhaps with your shoulders?—”
“I have to go.” He retrieved his keys. “The Lopez family?—”
“Is making trouble again, yes, yes.” She waved dismissively. “But you can’t fight territorial disputes in last season’s suit. Now, about the tailoring appointment?—”
“Mother.”
“Your father always said presentation matters in leadership.” Her lip quivered. The Vida Riggs nuclear option. “He would have wanted...”
Artek’s resolve crumbled. “Fine. One suit.”
“Perfect!” All traces of illness vanished. “I’ll have Alfonso come to your office this afternoon. The Italian cut will be divine with your build?—”
“One suit,” he repeated firmly. “No tailoring empire. No seasonal wardrobe. And absolutely no coordinated pocket squares.”
“Of course not, darling.” She patted his cheek. “Now hurry along. Save the territory, protect the sleuth, try not to growl at poor Alfonso...”
The drive to Northern Winds Security’s headquarters at least gave him time to decompress, watching the mountain scenery give way to city skyline. The familiar scents of pine and wilderness faded, replaced by steel and concrete. By the time he strode through the lobby of his sleek office tower, he’d almost pushed thoughts of the gala aside.
Until he found Trey Ellis sprawled in the executive conference room, feet propped on the mahogany table, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
“So,” Trey drawled, spinning a pen between his fingers, “you’re finally joining civilization.” He held up his phone, displaying a text from Carys. “Your sister says your mom’s playing the dying card again. Bold move. Very soap opera.”
“The Lopez report?” Artek growled.
“All here, boss.” Trey’s expression sobered as he handed over a tablet. “German’s been meeting with developers. Trying to prove the old boundary lines were drawn wrong.”
“They weren’t.”
“We know that. But he’s pushing the ‘historical claim’ angle again.” Trey leaned forward, previous humor vanishing. “He’s also been seen around Crystal Lake, taking measurements like he’s planning something.”
Artek scanned the reports, his bear’s protective instincts rising. The Lopez family had caused trouble for generations, but lately, German’s obsession with claiming sleuth territory had grown more aggressive.
“Double the patrols,” he decided. “Quietly. I don’t want to provoke him, but I won’t let him threaten what’s ours.”
“Already on it.” Trey’s grin returned, but his eyes stayed sharp. “You know what might help? A nice, relaxing evening at a certain gala. Meet some new people. Maybe find a mate who can help you keep an eye on troublemaking bears...”
“Trey.”
“I’m serious!” Trey held up his hands. “Okay, semi-serious. Look, you’re my best friend and my alpha. I respect the hell out of you. But even you need balance. When’s the last time you did anything but work and brood?”
“I don’t brood.”
“You’re brooding right now.” Trey’s voice softened. “Your mom’s theatrical, but she’s not wrong. You’ve got this amazing life you’ve built, but who are you sharing it with?”
“I don’t need?—”
“Everyone needs somebody.” Trey spun his chair. “Even grumpy bear shifters who think scowling is a lifestyle choice. Besides...” His grin turned wicked. “I hear the guest list is stacked with eligible?—”
“Let’s get back to the Lopez situ?—”
“It’s handled. I’ve got eyes on German, the patrols are doubled, and you, my friend, are going to let me teach you some dance moves before?—”
“Absolutely not.”
“Come on! I’ve got style. Rhythm. A genuine talent for?—”
Artek’s phone buzzed. A text from his mother: Darling! Alfonso is thrilled to do your fitting. I told him you’d adore his new Italian wool blend. BTW, I’m feeling quite faint again... perhaps if my son had a lovely mate to help care for me...
He dropped his head onto the desk with a thunk.
Trey’s laughter echoed through the office. “Should I start practicing my dance moves now, boss?”
“Shut up, Trey.”
“That’s not a no!” Trey’s chair squeaked as he demonstrated what Artek assumed was supposed to be a salsa move. “Look, worst case scenario? We drink some fancy champagne, schmooze with some clients, and I get to watch you dodge every eligible shifter your mom throws at you. Best case?” His expression turned sincere. “Maybe you find something worth leaving the mountain for.”
Artek’s phone buzzed again. His mother had sent a photo of fabric swatches.
“Fine,” he growled. “But no dancing.”
“We’ll see.” Trey’s grin could have powered Manhattan. “We’ll see.”
After all, Artek thought, what were the chances he’d actually meet someone special at a simple charity gala?
His bear rumbled, suddenly alert and interested. Almost like it knew something he didn’t.
“Now then.” Trey pulled up another report on his tablet. “While we wait for your impending fashion crisis?—”
“There is no fashion crisis.”
“Your mom’s texting me fabric swatches now.” Trey held up his phone. “I’m voting for the charcoal herringbone, by the way. Very James Bond meets grumpy bear.”
Artek snatched the device. Sure enough, his mother had somehow added Trey to a group chat titled Operation: Dress My Son . The stream of suit options, color palettes, and increasingly dramatic emoji threatened to short-circuit his phone.
“This stops now.” He fired off a quick text to his mother.
Her response came instantly: The navy makes your eyes pop, darling! Though I’m feeling a bit woozy discussing colors. Perhaps if I had a daughter-in-law to help me choose...
“Your mom’s good,” Trey chuckled, reading over his shoulder. “The guilt trip, the strategic alliance-building, the emoji manipulation—she’s playing chess while you’re playing checkers, boss.”
“The. Lopez. Situation,” Artek growled, shoving the phone away. “Focus.”
“Right, right. All business.” Trey pulled up a map of the territory. Red markers indicated German’s recent movements. “He’s been particularly interested in this section near Crystal Lake. Old property records show his great-grandfather once claimed?—”
“Falsely claimed.”
“—that the boundary line should have included the lake. But here’s the new twist: he’s been meeting with resort developers. High-end stuff. The kind that would carve up the whole area into luxury cabins.”