Our server came in before Geraldine had left, leaving me no time to ask what this was about. My father ordered what I was sure was an obscenely priced bottle of wine for the table. Showing off his money was one of his all-time favorite activities. I asked for water. The last thing I wanted was for this day to turn into my father ranting about what a spoiled piece of shit I was and using drinking the expensive wine as an example.
It was so typical of how things went when the two of us spent any time together. He would try to set me up as the bad guy, and I worked four times as hard to thwart his plan from succeeding. I’d gotten better at it, but man, there were times when I left him only wanting to curl up under my covers and not come out for a week.
The moment the server left, I asked my father why I was there, and in true father fashion, he said, “For lunch of course.”
I sipped my water, rolling up the corner of my napkin on my lap and counting in my head. The napkin was to keep me from tapping my fingers, something my father considered a mortal sin. The counting? That was to keep my wolf at bay. Something about mathematics, and numbers specifically, soothed him.
My wolf wasn’t speaking to me, but he was pushing hard. My beast wanted out. And if it was to stretch his legs, that would be one thing. But he didn’t want to just wander around. Nope. He wanted to bleed my father. I did too. But this was neither the time nor the place for that, even if we could best Father’s wolf, which I didn’t think I could. Not yet.
I wished someone would take him down. I’d pay money to see that challenge. What a horrible thing to think about your father. But also, he was a horrible man. I wouldn’t be shocked if there was a line of people waiting for the opportunity.
Our food came, and I attempted to get answers out of him once again, failing equally hard. He kept going back to that we were simply having a meal. Why he thought I would believe that for a second was beyond me. We didn’t grab food together. Ever. If we were eating at the same table, it was either for show or because he wanted something from me. There was no one here to show off to, which left the latter.
“The chicken is exceptional this evening.” My half-brother Duke smirked.
What was his deal? What was any of their deals?
“I agree.” Roy brought an overly full forkful up to his mouth. “How is yours, Father?”
“I’ve had better, but this matter couldn’t wait.” Finally. My father was going to tell me what this bullshit was about.
He set his fork on his plate. “I have a job for you. It’s about time you stopped with the fancifulness of being an artist. Your mother had learned that lesson by your age.”
I grabbed my thighs, needing something to do with my hands that wasn’t flipping the table, counting in my head repeatedly, my wolf far too close to the surface. I needed to hold him in for the rest of one meal. I could do that. Making a scene and giving the snooty management of this club a reason to revoke my membership was not an option.
“I’m not interested unless you are looking for me to paint something for your office lobby.” At least then I could get some more eyes on my pieces. That was worth the agitation.
“I have true artists who can handle that.” It was official. He was trying to get my wolf out. There was no other explanation for this. “And maybe swallow your pride. I know you aren’t living the lifestyle you are accustomed to, and this job will pay you a lot.”
I stared at him in disbelief. He did not just bring me in here to offer me a job. The way my stepbrothers were smirking only verified my gut reaction.
The door opened, the server coming to clear the table, when a scent slammed into me. It was all amber and cloves, and I needed to get to it. I needed to find the person who owned it. My beast was in agreement, and I had two choices; stay here and allow my father to continue to treat me like crap, dangling this very sketchy job in front of me until my wolf tore through and hunted down the origin of the scent, or walk out of here on my two feet and find it myself.
I chose the second.
“This has been real.” I tossed my napkin on my plate and walked toward the door. My brothers taunted me with glowering looks. My father was oddly silent, not that I cared.
My every single thought and movement were directed toward the scent. It was barely there, nothing but a hint. If I didn’t track it now, it would soon be gone. I couldn’t afford that. I needed to find this person.
I didn’t understand why. I just did. And nothing and no one was going to get in the way.
Once out the door, I hoped the scent would intensify, making it easier to find. My wolf could find it. Better than I could on two feet, but as much as I longed to reach the owner, I couldn’t risk it. Not here.
Find.
I will. I promise. Or at least I’d do everything I could to try. And if eventually that meant taking my fur, I wasn’t so sure that wouldn’t happen.
I inhaled deeply, not caring for a second how ridiculous I looked. It was a tad stronger to the left, so off to the left I went. But the farther I went, the farther away the scent was. How was that possible?
Because of the stupid new upgraded air filtration system. That was why. I had paid so little attention to all the emails about it. But that would explain why the scent wasn’t behaving the way it should. Suck. This was going to be significantly harder than I thought.
I backtracked, picked up another trail, and just like the first time, I ended up at a dead end, the scent leading nowhere. At this rate, I was going to let my beast out and say fuck it all to everyone.
Backtracking once more, I finally caught what felt like a solid path, the scent direct from the source and not one that was rerouted through the air system. And it led me to another private dining room. The smart thing to do would be to wait outside until the diners were done for the night.
Nothing that needed to be seen or said couldn’t wait until they were finished eating, right? But knowing that in your head andknowing it in your heart were two different things. And it was all I could do not to twist the handle and walk in.
My wolf insisted I do just that. He wanted me to rush in and take what he had already decided was his. There was no way that would work out well. None.
