Chapter 14
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
Reece
Ican’t concentrate.
The piece I need to solder won’t slide into place. I’ve been trying to get it at the right angle for half an hour now, and for the millionth time since I sat down at the workbench, I wish I hadn’t lost my first prototype the night of the ball.
Ugh. This was easier in my head.
I put everything down, push my glasses up, and drop my face into my palms. For once my mind isn’t focused on my work. It’s back in the gazebo with Mari last night.
And how could it not be? Not when she confessed that the Alpha she’s been pining over is actually…me.
She wants me.
“Fuck.”
I should be thrilled. I should be floating on cloud nine right now, and I may have been when she had first mentioned the Alpha in a mask, but reality crushed me right after she left.
Mari has fallen for an Alpha. An Alpha. Not me.
She wants the man I was pretending to be, and without the stupid vibrating box, white tux, and feathered mask, I can’t be that.
My brother’s right. There’s no chance for us.
Did I really hope for a miracle? God, I’m an idiot.
I rub at my eyes, adjust my glasses, and stare down at the mess of parts scattered across the table.
At this point, I’m going to have to make another junkyard run through the Lower Side or start digging through the dumpsters behind the Midtown strip malls again.
I’m missing too many pieces to rebuild this and get it right on the first go.
But I need time to go hunting for scraps…and on top of this project, Mrs. Gardener wants me to overhaul a lot of old equipment and make them work like new after my success with the stand mixer. The weed whacker, the laundry dryer, the ceiling fan in the master bedroom.
Even Elise, one of the housemaids, asked if I could take a look at a vacuum that keeps getting clogged. All of this plus my normal daily chores.
It’s a lot, but I’m hoping it helps keep my mind off all the Alphas clamoring to gain Mari’s favor, and one eventually biting her and knotting her.
I slam my fist into the table, making everything jump. “Dammit!”
I really fucking hate this.
“Mom sent me in to see if the serving tiers are ready.” Rue bounces around the shed, looking around as the sunlight streams in through the tiny windows.
“There’s so much stuff in here now. Ooo, that’s cool!
Is this from the house? What’s this, Reece?
” There’s a loud crash of metal hitting the floor and she shrieks.
When I spin around, a shelf of oil cans has fallen off the wall. “Oops, sorry about that.”
“It’s okay. I’ll fix it.” I laugh and hand her the repaired serving tower, or “serving tiers” as she called it, but I can’t make fun of her for it because even I don’t know the proper name.
It doesn’t matter. It’s as good as new. Better. The delicate legs are stronger, and I polished everything up.
As Rue balances the thing in her hands, she manages to pull out her phone and tries to scroll. “Did you see the latest QB? She’s being such a bitch to us. I don’t know what’s up her ass lately, but it’d be totally awesome if half of it wasn’t about our family.”
“No, sorry. I don’t have a cell phone.”
She gasps loudly. “O.M.G! No phone? How do you survive?”
“I keep busy.”
But she doesn’t hear me. She’s scrolling as she talks. “No one should be without a phone! That’s a sin! Even if it’s one of those cells you can pay month by month. I’ll talk to Heath.”
“It’s really okay, Miss Gardener,” I say. For some reason, telling her I can’t afford even a month-to-month phone plan is embarrassing, so I settle for: “I’ve lived this long without one. I’ll be okay.”
But she’s shaking her head as she skips to the door. I rush to hold it open for her. “You do so much for us, Reece. You deserve one!” She beams at me, proud of herself. “Don’t worry. I’m on it.”
From the house, Heath’s voice booms out. “Rue!”
“Yikes, gotta go!” She dashes up the path to the house.
I head out, too, passing my brother on his knees in the garden.
He scowls at me as he clips the foliage. “Don’t go inside if you can help it,” he says.
That makes me pause. “Why?”
“Miss Gardener is entertaining Alphas today. There was a line outside the door last time I was in there.”
It’s the way he says the word “entertaining” that pokes me in the chest. Like he’s implying Mari’s in the parlor having them all measure their dicks in front of her or something.
I grit my teeth. “What does that have to do with me?”
He shrugs. “I just figured it was something you wouldn’t want to see.”
“Whatever Miss Gardener decides to do has nothing to do with me,” I say, my bitterness leaking into my tone. “Nothing. Which is something you’ve told me repeatedly, am I right?”
Derrick doesn’t answer immediately. He stares at me a little stunned, and I don’t know if it’s because my words surprised him or my tone. I really don’t care either way.
“Uh, right…” he mutters.
“Exactly.” I don’t stick around after that.
I still have to re-stain the upstairs banisters and take the curtains off the rods for cleaning and pressing. But as I enter the house, exhaustion tugs at me and my muscles ache. Maybe it’s the sleepless nights and extra work finally catching up to me.
Then I stop mid-step.
There’s a line of men stretching through the hallway, disappearing into the parlor on one end and spilling through the foyer and out the front door on the other. The air is thick with the faint, ticklish void scent of blocker spray, and that tells me everything I need to know.
Yup. Alphas.
Every single one of them.
They’re all holding something, too—flowers, candy, expensive-looking ribbon-tied boxes, elaborate gift baskets. One guy is clutching a stuffed bear nearly as big as he is.
My stomach twists.
Shit. They’re all here for Mari?
Derrick wasn’t exaggerating.
“Reece!”
I nearly jump at Heath’s voice. He stands in the parlor doorway, looking perfectly composed despite the chaos unfolding around him. “There you are. Come here.”
The last place I want to be is in that room, standing around while Alpha after Alpha gets paraded in front of Mari like she’s the grand prize at the end of some competition. But Heath’s my boss, so I follow him anyway.
The second I step into the parlor, several scents hit me all at once. The strongest is the blocker spray, but there’s also expensive cologne, fresh flowers, and citrus from the lemonade sweating on the coffee table.
And underneath it all, buried deep, is Mari’s floral sweetness.
She’s sitting on the cream-colored sofa beside Mrs. Gardener, in a pale sunshine-gold dress that catches the afternoon glow every time she moves.
Her shoulder-length hair is pinned back on one side, and when her eyes lift and briefly catch mine, a sad smile flickers across her face before she smooths it away again.
Ever the dutiful daughter in front of her family, when inside she’s floundering. Do they not see it?
My chest constricts.
“Reece,” Heath says briskly, “I need you to relieve Elise, please. There’s still a lot of Alphas out there and Elise needs a breather.”
The blonde maid beside the refreshments looks instantly grateful.
I nod and tamp down my frustration. “Of course.”
“It’ll be your job handling drinks and snacks while we keep this moving,” Heath says, lines of strain fanning out from the corners of his eyes. “The faster we get through these meetings, the better.”
Meetings.
That’s what he calls them.
Why not call this what it actually is? A mockery of Marigold. She deserves better than to have an assembly line of males pass by her and study her like this. Like she’s a commodity and not a person.
I swallow hard and take Elise’s place beside the coffee table, wrapping my fingers around the cold glass pitcher of lemonade. Mint leaves float near the top, the citrus sharp enough to almost cut through the sweetness suffusing the room.
Keeping my face clear of any emotion is a herculean task, especially with the bitterness roiling in my gut. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive this…
Heath disappears into the foyer before returning a moment later with yet another Alpha.
“This is Billy Myers,” he says in exhausted introduction.
The guy looks like he belongs on a billboard somewhere. Blond hair styled perfectly, expensive watch glinting beneath his cuff, polished smile already fixed in place.
“Miss Gardener,” he says, offering her a bouquet of pale pink roses. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
She accepts them politely. “Thank you.”
But I can hear the almost robotic quality to her voice, the hidden displeasure. She doesn’t want to be here, and that gives me a little bit of relief at least.
Mari’s mother gestures to me and the coffee table. “Can we offer you anything to eat or drink? Lemonade?”
Billy takes the glass without really acknowledging me when I pour some for him, too busy settling across from Mari in one of the high-backed chairs.
Almost immediately, he launches into a story about his family’s vacation homes near the coast and some imported horse he apparently spent an obscene amount of money on.
All of which is meant to impress her, I suppose.
Mari listens, nodding in the right places, but I know her too well. I notice the slight glaze in her eyes and the careful smile she keeps pinned in place.
She’s bored. Beyond bored.
She’s not the only one, either. I tune out a few times, only to be brought back in when Billy asks, seemingly out of nowhere, “You paint?”
Mari’s back in the conversation, too. She smiles now, a real one. “I do. And I sketch also. It’s a bit of a passion of mine.”
“Huh.” He laughs lightly. “I’ve never really understood art. It all looks like just squiggles to me.”
A snort escapes me before I can stop it.
Every eye in the room turns to me.
Oh shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit!
“I apologize,” I mutter and stare into the lemonade pitcher like I might be able to crawl inside it.
I can’t believe I did that.
But when I finally peek up over my glasses, Mari’s grinning at me.