“I assure you, it was unintentional…sir,” Christopher said, his smirk turning even more teasing. “I had meant to send it to your email, but accidentally sent it to your mother’s instead.”
Ah, that made sense. Emory sank back into his chair as the weight of the day—hell, the year—settled around him. Christopher walked further into the office and cocked a hip against the other side of his desk, casting him a concerned look that was all too familiar to Emory.
This had once been his father’s desk. Emory had spent countless hours sitting on the couch in the corner, asking foradvice, exchanging ideas, and spending time with his beloved father. He’d even leaned against that very corner to give his father attitude or discuss dinner plans.
His father was gone now. He’d been gone almost three years, and nowadays it was his mother who often stood at that desk corner, giving him advice on how to lead the company or asking when he was going to take a break to find his fated mate.
Like fate had doneherso well. Losing her husband, her fated mate, so unexpectedly had taken its toll. Her once golden hair had turned almost entirely gray, and she’d only made it six months running the company before Emory had to take over.
When he was a child, Emory had been told that he might one day have to lead the company—that is, if his cousin Jonathon didn’t want the position. Emory had figured that either way, it would be a long time until he had to even consider it. Then his cousin had left the pride, and his father died, leaving him with very little choice.
His mother still consulted for the company, and on occasion, her email address would populate as CEO of the company. It usually only caused minor inconveniences with clients, but today, it was causing Emory a massive headache.
“It’s alright,” he sighed. “I’m sure she has feelers out for fated mate parties anyway. She and some of the aunts have even begun grumbling about matchmakers lately, gods forbid.”
Christopher let out a sharp laugh. “Fat chance of you agreeing to that. Knowing how traditional they are, they’re probably going to try and set you up with some meek omega yes-man or woman…or person.”
Emory smirked at the correction. Unlike Christopher, who was primarily interested in omega men—and beta men on occasion—Emory was pansexual, never minding the primary or secondary gender of his partners. His parents had been accepting of his preferences, or lack thereof, as long as he foundhis fated mate and settled down to have cubs before he took on the family business.
Clearly, that plan had gone spectacularly awry and didn’t seem likely to rectify itself anytime soon.
“That would certainly not be ideal. I can’t imagine finding time to date right now, much less having to take care of someone else,” Emory grumbled.
He could barely take care of himself most days. He was far too busy taking care of his father’s legacy. Every day, there was a new fire to put out or an emergency to address.
“I know how busy you are, Em, but…wouldn't it be nice to have someone to take home for the holidays?”
Emory huffed and tried not to roll his eyes. He wasn’t sure where the older brother routine was coming from, but he genuinely didn’t have time for it. “Even if I met someone tomorrow, there’s no way I would be taking them home for the holidays.”
He would never subject his mother to the whole ‘meet the family’ song and dance for a date or a fling. His mom had experienced enough disappointment in her life. He would have to be serious about someone before even considering spending a holiday with them.
“You never know. If you meet your fated mate on the street tomorrow, maybe you’ll be head over heels by the Winter Solstice.”
Christopher also hadn’t found his fated mate yet. Unlike Emory’s family, Christopher’s otter family was much more go with the flow about the whole thing. Otters were very romantic, mating for life and spending almost every second they were together holding hands or otherwise connected. They also believed that fate would decide when the time was right. Lions were a bit more…aggressive.
“Alright, well, if you’re quite finished, I should probably get back to work.” Emory dropped his feet back to the floor with a resigned huff.
“Really, Em? It’s Friday night. Shouldn’t you have clocked out by now?”
Emory stared pointedly at him, making it clear his point had no merit since he, too, was here after work hours. Christopher blinked back at him, big brown eyes the epitome of fake innocence, and Emory shook his head.
“I have to stay late to speak with our team in Alaska. If I can’t get things sorted out soon, I’m going to be on a plane to Anchorage, not at the harvest dinner. Mate or no mate.”
Christopher executed one of his flawless transitions, dropping his casual demeanor and replacing it with his straight-backed stance. “Is there something I should be aware of with the Alaska office?”
Emory turned his eyes back to his computer screen, where he’d been working aimlessly on a spreadsheet before his mother called.
The change in dynamic between himself and Christopher had been one of the hardest parts of ascending to the CEO position. Christopher had been his best friend and confidant, someone he could talk to about the challenges of working for his family’s business and living in a strict lion pride. When his dad died, he’d leaned hard on his few friends, including Christopher. This man had seen him sobbing on the floor and screaming in empty parking lots.
As the months turned into years and his role as the head of not just his company but his family settled on his shoulders, he’d had to sacrifice a lot to maintain some semblance of control over his life. Closeness and vulnerability with his friends had been one of those sacrifices. He couldn’t afford to look weak, not in front of the rest of the senior staff or any of the ruthlesswomen in his family. Late at night, with the relentless dinging of his email still ringing in his ears, he sometimes wondered if this level of stress might have contributed to his father’s early death.
Meanwhile, Christopher had rolled with the change, adopting a no-nonsense relationship with Emory at work, reserving friendship for these rare moments after hours. Emory envied the way Christopher could so fluidly shift between the two; Emory struggled to turn it on and off, and he often found himself ‘on’ until late into the night. He didn’t understand how his mother thought he could ever find a mate while living like this.
At Emory’s tense silence, Christopher rounded the corner of the desk and stooped down over his shoulder. “Let me help, Emory. I tease, but you truly work too hard.”
Following in his father’s footsteps, Emory had taken it upon himself to manage their satellite offices, especially the more troublesome sites, like Alaska. While he cherished their northernmost colleagues, just like his father before him, the office was predominantly made up of black bear shifters who needed ample time off to pseudo-hibernate, and moose shifters, who much preferred to be out mountaineering in what little daylight they could get during the winter months. It meant numbers from that office were sent to headquarters sporadically and occasionally past their deadline. This would be his second visit to the site in as many years, and he was not looking forward to it, but if the numbers he was reviewing were correct, he wouldn’t have much of a choice.
“I also know how important the holidays are to your mother,” Christopher pressed. “Why don’t we see if we can work something out?”
