Chapter 19 Violet
VIOLET
Ever since I drunk called Garrick, things have actually been good. Easier between us. Between all four of us. The last couple of weeks have been the best of my life.
My laptop pings with an email notification. Payment confirmation from Colorado Lifestyle Blog.
I open it, watching the number appear in my account balance. Three hundred dollars for the bakery feature. Not bad for a week's work.
I should feel relieved. Instead, my thumb hovers over my banking app, already pulling up Emma's contact.
She texted yesterday. Utilities shut-off notice. The kids need winter coats. The transfer takes thirty seconds.
Three hundred dollars, gone. My balance drops back to forty-seven dollars and change.
My phone buzzes. Meredith.
The doorbell rings and I look at my watch.
Shoot, I'm late!
I open the apartment door, and before I can even say hi to Meredith, she tilts her head with a twinkle in her eyes.
"Ready for some real small-town drama?" Meredith grins as I grab my purse like it's a weapon.
We clatter down the stairs, but when we hit the bottom, there's Garrick. Planted across the doorway like a human guard dog.
"I hope you're not planning on getting her drunk again," he says, all stern authority, like he's my dad catching me sneaking out with a fake ID.
I blink. "Wow. It's six o'clock on a Friday, not Mardi Gras. Maybe chill?"
His eyebrow ticks up, and for a second he looks almost shocked I snapped back.
"It is my business if I'm the one who ends up hauling you two home at midnight.
Besides..." His eyes catch mine, that weird crackle of static zipping between us again.
"You can't keep dragging Meredith out past her bedtime. "
Meredith lets out a squawk that echoes off the bakery windows. "Excuse you! I'll have you know I can stay up past nine-thirty. On weekends."
I snort, rolling my eyes so hard it nearly gives me whiplash, and push past him out the door. Fine, let him worry. He's got poker night anyway. Maybe the cards will distract him from micromanaging my life.
Sliding into Meredith's passenger seat, I mutter as I click my seatbelt, "How old does he think I am? Twelve?"
Meredith's laugh fills the car as she throws it into reverse. "Oh, honey. Clearly he thinks you're too young to be hanging out with me. Corrupting the innocent youth of Cedars Ridge." She wiggles her eyebrows, and I groan, hiding my burning face in my hands.
We both dissolve into giggles, and I feel some of the tension leave my shoulders.
This is exactly what I need, a beta and not an alpha walking around protecting me as if I'm his child.
Ever since last week, he has been sweet, at times.
But now it's as if he's agitated and I can't keep walking around worrying about what has triggered him this time.
"So where exactly are we going?" I ask.
"Town meeting," she says cheerfully. "First Friday of every month. Usually boring as hell, but I figured you should start getting involved in the community."
My stomach drops a little. "Town meeting? Meredith, I don't know anything about local politics or..."
"Relax." She pats my knee. "Half the people there don't know what's going on either. We just nod and look interested when someone mentions the budget."
The community center is a modest brick building that smells like old coffee and industrial carpet cleaner.
As we walk in, I'm immediately hit by a wall of mixed scents.
Various alphas, betas, and a few other omegas, all mingling in the warm evening air.
It's overwhelming at first, my omega senses trying to catalog and process all the different pheromone signatures.
"Violet!" Dorothy Fletcher waves from the second row like she's flagging down a parade float, her matronly beta scent bubbling with excitement. "So glad you could make it, dear!"
I paste on a polite smile and wave back, letting Meredith steer me toward the middle like she's my handler at a dog show. The prickle of eyes following us makes my skin hum in the worst way, like I'm standing under a spotlight in my underwear. The goosebumps up my arms say otherwise.
Mayor Peterson clears his throat like he's about to declare war. "First item on tonight's agenda, the weather service has issued a storm warning for this weekend. We want to make sure everyone has emergency supplies ready. Food, water, batteries, the usual."
"When's this storm supposed to hit?" I ask, raising my hand slightly.
Meredith waves dismissively beside me. "Oh honey, they issue storm warnings every year around this time. It never happens. Remember last year's 'storm of the century'? We got maybe two inches."
A few people around the room nod and chuckle knowingly.
"Still," Mayor Peterson continues, "better safe than sorry. Moving on to the annual Founders' Day celebration..."
I try. I really do. I even fold my hands like a good little citizen and focus. But the debate immediately spirals into a mess of permit fees and vendor applications, and my brain decides it would rather do literally anything else. My gaze drifts across the room instead.
Tom Brennan from the garage smells faintly of oil and nervous sweat. Sally from the diner keeps darting glances at me over her notepad like she's sketching my mugshot. Even Frank Fletcher is here, which Meredith swore never happens. So what gives?
"...and that brings us to the proposed business development initiative," Mayor Peterson drones, flipping his papers.
That's when the room changes.
It's like somebody flipped a switch. Suddenly every head tilts forward, every pair of eyes sharpens. The energy goes from bored to laser-focused in two seconds flat.
"We need to consider the... compatibility factors," Mrs. Henderson the librarian says, each word dragged out like she's reciting scripture.
"Absolutely." Frank nods sagely. "Multiple options are always better than limiting ourselves to just one... partnership."
I squint. What?
"But what about the natural chemistry?" Dorothy chimes in, clasping her hands. "Sometimes forcing these business relationships can backfire."
"Speaking from experience," Tom coughs, "sometimes the best partnerships happen organically. When the right... elements come together."
I lean toward Meredith and hiss, "This is business talk? It sounds like a dating seminar."
She just grins like Christmas came early and shushes me, her eyes glued to the unfolding circus.
"Of course, timing is crucial," Sally adds, scribbling like she's taking down the Dead Sea Scrolls. "Move too fast and you'll scare off potential... investors."
Mayor Peterson steeples his hands. "But move too slow and you lose the opportunity altogether."
Everyone nods solemnly, like they're discussing nuclear codes instead of zoning permits. Words like synergy, natural alignment, sustainable models get tossed around like confetti, but to me it just sounds like innuendo with a side of town gossip.
Meanwhile, I'm sitting there wondering if we should've skipped straight to the bar. At least then the pounding in my head would come from tequila shots instead of this verbal Sudoku.
When Mayor Peterson finally slams the gavel, the room bursts open like a shaken soda. Little gossip clusters form instantly, voices low but eyes gleaming. The air is thick with amusement, and my gut twists as something awful hits me:
Everyone here is in on a joke. Everyone but me.
"Well, that was... educational," I mutter as Meredith and I head for the car.
She snorts so hard she nearly drops her keys. "Oh, sweet, innocent Violet."
"What? What's so funny?"
We climb in, and instead of starting the engine, she swivels toward me with a grin that could light up the whole parking lot. "They weren't talking about business development."
I blink at her. "Weren't they?"
"Nope." She's practically vibrating. "They were talking about you. And the guys."
"Me and...?" My voice cracks like a thirteen-year-old choir boy.
"The pack formation, honey. The whole town's been watching you and Xaden and Garrick and Liam circle each other for weeks. It's better than cable."
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I can practically smell my own embarrassment, hot and sharp. "You're kidding."
"Not even a little. Welcome to small-town life, where everybody knows your business, and your love life is the juiciest soap opera they've had since the Henderson twins tried to tip Pastor Williams' cow."
I gape at her. "The whole town is... talking about my love life?"
"Honey, they're betting on it."
By the time she pulls us out of the lot, my face is hotter than Dolly's engine before she died on me last month. But when we cruise down Main Street, I catch locals waving, like I've somehow become one of them. It feels... good. Weird, but good.
I sneak a smile. "Ever since Garrick picked us up last week... he's been nice."
"Garrick!" Meredith practically chokes as we stop at the light.
"Yeah. He's not so bad once you get to know him. Honestly, none of them are."
She shoots me a wink. "See? You're feeling it too."
One sharp turn later, we're pulling up at the bar. Same neon sign, same gravel lot but this time, it doesn't feel intimidating. No dark corners or seedy vibes. Just familiar.
Meredith orders a soda without blinking, and I do the same. We're both thinking the same thing: tonight, no bad decisions.
After a quick drink with Meredith after the town meeting, I went back to the apartment with a book and some chocolate to unwind.
Did I hope that the boys would be here playing poker?
Maybe.
I was surprised none of them were here, and it felt weird hearing it from Meredith that they were in the local pub in town to celebrate a friend's birthday. Two things hit me:
They didn't invite me.
And that they had friends.
I know it is crazy, of course they have friends. They spent their whole lives here, but it was as if one minute I feel as if I know them, then the next I'm getting to know them all over again.
Maybe, I'm too sensitive.