“Councilman Nakamura’s omega needs a venue for the ballet gala. I can’t say no–it might affect our liquor license. But now I need an events team, or at least a coordinator with vendor connections, by Monday. Something like this could make us.” I sent off an email about that. Then I sent another. We should get the website up too.
Usually, I had someone handling this for a new venue, but since I bought this for Evan, I was doing a lot of it myself. Too much. It was probably time to delegate.
“It could also break us if it goes badly. You know how those society omegas talk. How did she even know?” Terrance asked.
“Grace is on the Hadley Hall Carnival committee with her–Riley and her son are friends.” I sent another email.
“That makes sense. My wife is very excited about going to Grace and Spencer’s mating party,” he stated.
“It should be nice?” At least it felt like Grace was trying to plan something enjoyable. “Spencer took her and Riley shopping. From the pictures Riley keeps dropping in the group chat, it looks like he’s buying them whatever they want. Why do dolls need designer purses?”
“I think the answer would bebecause you can.” Terrance chuckled. “Oh boy. What is he getting her for a mating gift?”
“I’m not sure what he’s getting for her personally, but his family is buying them a plane and fixing the runway at her beach house, and she gets some family jewelry. However, I let Spencer buy her asset for being brought into the pack, and he bought her an island with a beach estate and a yacht.” I sighed. How could I compete with Spencer? Was this how Wes felt when Jett and I were courting Evan?
“Ooh, you like her.” Terrance smirked.
“I care for her a lot. We went to Kari Jaroff’s concert, and it was fun.” What happened after had been nice, too.
Terrance looked at his phone. “Well, I have to go. I think we’re done anyway.”
“We are. Thanks for going over everything. I’ll see you later.” I cleaned up, and there was a knock on the door.
“Hey, Bren.” My dad stood there, dressed casually in a T-shirt from his old rugby team and shorts.
Once he’d been a professional rugby player and had been traded to Rockland. He met my mother at a bar. She wouldn’t talk to him, and he hunted her down. Eventually, they fell in love and had us. He’d taken her last name and supported her and her career. Though he enjoyed running the foundation–especially the program that provided athletic opportunities for underprivileged children.
My parents had never formed a pack. Mother always said they hadn’t met the right people.
It was probably about control. Well, for her.
How did my father even know that I was here? Probably Katie, who, like my mother, always seemed to know everything.
“Um, hi, Dad.” I looked around, hoping this wasn’t a family ambush.
“It’s just me. I had lunch with some of my old teammates at the restaurant in your building’s lobby. I saw your motorcycle in the garage and figured that you were getting some work done. Do you have time for a beer? Nothing serious, I just miss you.” The earnestness in his face and voice made me pause.
I missed him. Once we had a good relationship, nicknames and teasing aside. It was fun coaching youth rugby with him and watching games with him and his friends. It just felt like we had less to talk about as I got older.
“We can do that. Though I have to be home for dinner. Wes and Evan are cooking,” I told him, grabbing my things.
He chuckled. “Is Wes allowed to use the oven now? I remember when he burned the cookies, and your mom banned him from using her kitchen.”
Laughing, we left my office, and I locked everything behind me.
“I have no idea what they’re cooking or what inspired their desire to make dinner. Grace has been teaching Evan to bake, though,” I said as we took the elevator up to the rooftop bar.
The weather was warm, and a lot of people were out enjoying the weather, some watching a race on one of the big screen televisions. We grabbed a table in the shade with a great view of the city below us. A server came over, and we ordered beers and a basket of onion rings.
“Is everything going okay?” I asked, a little worried there was an ulterior motive to this.
“The summer sports programs have started, and everything’s going well. A few of my buddies want to donate and help increase our reach. Yeah, it was a working lunch.” He chuckled. “Though the idea of all-omega rugby teams is a little frightening.”
“Skate smash has an entire semi-pro all-omega league that’s hugely popular. We have the Rockland Bathrobes.” The names of the teams were all silly, and the rules were closer to what they used for the children’s teams than in the PSSL, but it was a fun time. I’d brought Riley to a couple of games.
The server brought our drinks. My dad took a sip of his.
“I’m not against encouraging omegas to play contact sports. It’s just that most of our programs are aimed at younger kids, not high-schoolers. I’ll have to look at everything to see what would be the best, strategically,” he said. “You didn’t hear from me, but we have lost donors.”
