10. Luther
Luther
The common room of Ember House is crowded enough that I have to shift twice before I can see Luca clearly.
Families gather around the resident garden display near the windows while staff members move between tables of food and information packets.
Children weave around the adults with paper cups of lemonade, and every few minutes Blossom intercepts someone attempting to rearrange the buffet.
She catches a caterer moving the savory trays toward the desserts and redirects him with one look before returning to Maya, who is already laughing at the expression on her face.
Luca stands near the expansion display with a member of the city planning committee and two longtime donors.
He answers a question, gestures toward the unfinished wing beyond the windows, then pauses when Maya approaches and says something near his ear.
Luca laughs with her before returning to the conversation.
A staff member crosses the room to ask about a resident request, and Luca answers without breaking the rhythm of the discussion.
No one turns toward me, Blake, or any other Alpha for confirmation.
Blake joins me near the fireplace with his cane resting against one leg. His attention stays on Luca as Blossom complains loudly enough for Maya to cover her mouth with both hands.
“She moved the quiches again,” Blake says.
“She was right the first time.”
“She’ll be pleased you agree.”
Blossom looks across the room as though she heard him despite the distance. Blake lifts his glass in acknowledgment, and she points at the caterer before resuming her complaint.
The front doors open while the planning committee is still speaking with Luca.
Josie enters beside an older man with silver hair and the kind of composed posture that comes from years spent in public rooms. His suit is understated, his smile easy, and several people recognize him before Josie has finished removing her coat.
She waits until the committee moves away before bringing him toward Luca.
“Luca, this is my Alpha, Alastair Mercer. He directs the Mercer Foundation.”
The name is familiar. Mercer served on the city council for nearly twenty years before moving into philanthropic work, and his foundation appears on programs connected to housing, education, and Omega welfare. Nothing about his presence at Ember House should feel unusual.
Alastair offers Luca his hand. “I have heard a great deal about Ember House. Thank you for allowing families to see the work for themselves.”
Luca shakes it firmly. “We wanted people to meet the staff and residents without turning the evening into a presentation.”
“A sensible choice.” Alastair glances toward the common room, where Maya has begun helping one of the younger children with a paper flower. “A place like this should be understood through the people who use it.”
He doesn't remain with Luca. He asks Blossom how residents contribute to decisions about the shared spaces and listens while she explains the resident board.
Near the garden display, he speaks with one of the residents about which herbs survive the winter and whether the kitchen uses what they grow.
His questions are informed without pressing into anything the staff should not share.
People approach him throughout the room.
He receives their attention easily but never pulls focus away from the event.
When a donor asks about his foundation’s current work, he answers briefly and redirects the conversation toward Ember House.
He praises the expansion plans without asking who controls the property or how much funding remains outstanding.
By the time he returns to Luca, I have watched him move through most of the room without giving anyone a clear reason to distrust him.
“The expansion is ambitious,” Alastair says, glancing toward the display. “Managing it alongside the existing house must keep you occupied.”
“It does,” Luca replies. “The staff and resident board carry much of the work.”
Alastair’s smile remains warm. “And three young children at home as well. You must have an unusual reserve of energy.”
The comment is ordinary enough to pass as admiration, but my attention sharpens. Luca has not mentioned the children tonight, and Alastair offers the detail as though they have already discussed his home life.
Luca doesn't hesitate. “I have a large family and excellent staff.”
“That makes all the difference.” Alastair releases his hand, praises the evening again, and moves toward another group without asking Luca for private time or offering him a card.
The room continues around us, but I watch it more carefully after he moves away. Blake waits until Luca is pulled into another conversation before coming to my side. He keeps his voice low enough that the people nearest us cannot hear.
“When Mercer shook his hand, he looked down Luca’s body before he let go.”
“Attraction?”
“No.” Blake adjusts his grip on the cane. “It was too quick to challenge, and I may be wrong. It looked evaluative.”
I find Alastair near the garden display, listening while a resident explains which plants she chose for the winter beds. His posture remains open, his attention fixed on the person speaking. Nothing in his expression supports Blake’s conclusion.
“Keep it with the rest,” I say.
Blake nods once and returns his attention to Luca.
Josie remains near the refreshment table after Alastair moves on.
Her gaze follows Maya across the room when Maya catches Luca by the sleeve and brings him toward another resident.
For several seconds, Josie’s expression is unguarded.
I cannot tell whether I am seeing envy, grief, or simple exhaustion.
She watches Maya lean comfortably into Luca’s side while he listens, and something in her face tightens.
Alastair returns and places one hand lightly on her upper arm.
Josie straightens at once. Her shoulders settle, her expression clears, and she turns toward the couple Alastair is greeting as though she had never been watching Luca at all. The touch could be nothing more than a signal that he wants her attention. I remember it anyway.
Alastair leaves before the event is fully over. He thanks Blossom, shakes Luca’s hand a second time without repeating the personal comment, and departs with Josie while several donors are still collecting their coats.
The room empties slowly after that. Staff members stack information packets, residents gather children and misplaced sweaters, and the catering trays disappear one by one into the kitchen. Blossom carries the last platter through the doorway with both hands and sets it down harder than necessary.
“The next person who orders miniature quiches can eat all of them alone,” she says.
Maya follows her with a stack of cups. “You ate four.”
“For quality control.”
Luca laughs as he lowers himself into the chair at the edge of the kitchen table. The sound is softer than it was earlier, and his shoulders settle heavily against the back of the chair. Blossom slides a plate of real food in front of him before he can claim he isn't hungry.
I take the chair beside him. Luca eats two bites, then turns sideways and stretches one tired leg across my lap as though the space has been waiting for him all evening. I slide my hand beneath his ankle and work my thumb slowly into the arch of his foot.
His shoulders loosen. He reaches across without asking and steals a piece of chicken from my plate.
“That was mine.”
Luca smiles around the bite, laughter still warming his face. “You were too slow.”
Maya laughs from the doorway while Blossom begins wrapping the remaining food. Luca takes another bite and looks through the kitchen toward the emptied common room.
“It went well.”
“It did.”
Blake pauses in the doorway. His eyes meet mine briefly before shifting to Luca and the plate in front of him.
I keep Alastair’s glance and Josie’s reaction where I have placed them, beside the donor withdrawals, the altered acquisition terms, and the questions that continue appearing around Ember House.
Luca leans back in the chair and closes his eyes while my thumb moves once more along the arch of his foot. The evening has lasted for hours, and he has spent most of it standing, answering questions, and moving between rooms. His fatigue has an easy explanation.
For tonight, that explanation is enough.