Page 8 of Fritillaria (Fortune Records Omegaverse #5)

Chapter 8

A spis

My phone sits unlocked on my desk, the screen glaring up at me with Matilda’s rejection.

Under normal circumstances, her reschedule wouldn’t be quite the sting. After last night with Ivy though? Everything feels different.

I hardly got any sleep, and when the clock struck five I decided to just get changed and grab an Uber back to the studio. My mind wouldn’t stop, picturing both of my mates and running through every possible scenario as to how this would all play out.

My anxious energy was also down to meeting with Matilda this morning. Now that the coffee isn’t going ahead today, I feel a weird sort of deflation. My chest aches, and a place in my gut feels so empty.

“Hey, bud. I’ve got a question for you.” Finnegan busts into my office, as he normally does. His eyes widen as he takes me in. “Shit. What’s happened to you?”

“Fuck. Do I really look that bad?” I groan, my hand running along the stubble on my jawline. I made sure to look presentable for the office despite everything else going on.

“Well, no, not to an outsider. But, Aspis, what happened? You look like someone died.”

He pulls up a chair at my desk, his dark brow furrowed as he waits for me to respond.

“Everything happened.” I hide my face behind my hands as I speak. “I found out who my mates are last night at the party.”

“What?! That’s great!” I peek out through my fingers to see his confusion.

“No, it’s not. Because they both rejected me.”

“Wait, hold up.” He pulls his chair around to my side of the desk. Finnegan grips my wrists and removes my hands from my face. “Tell me what happened. I’m sure there’s a sound explanation for it all.”

“If the explanation is that they hate me…”

The stern look that my friend gives me makes me talk.

“OK, well. I scented them both at the party. I saw Matilda first, but I didn’t know who the other person was and I didn’t want to miss them. So I followed the second scent to a studio and it was one of our artists, Ivy. When I told her we were mates she told me that she wasn’t interested and shut the door in my face.

“Then, I texted Matilda because she had left the party, asking if she wanted to grab a coffee this morning. I wanted to tell her in person, you know? But she rejected me too, saying that she is too busy today.”

I look away, refusing to share my shame. Finnegan should just leave me be, I’m a bad omen at this stage.

“OK, listen.” Finnegan speaks calmly, like I’m a wounded animal. I suppose I am. “I don’t think it’s as bad as you think.”

Is he for real? Did he not just hear what happened?

“I know, I know.” Finnegan continues. “I hear you. It seems bad on the surface. But I have a few pieces of information that might make you feel better.

“Firstly, Matilda didn’t know what you were asking her to coffee for, so you can’t exactly say that she’s rejecting you. I happen to know that she has an interview this morning for a possible promotion. I’m sure that it’s a busy time for socials right now with two separate high profile album launches ongoing, and I’m sure that means that her day truly is busy.”

“Oh,” it’s all I can manage. “She did suggest meeting tomorrow but I just thought it was a throw away comment.”

“Well, maybe you can wait one more day and chat to her tomorrow morning then.”

I nod, taking a sip from my water to try and calm myself down.

“That doesn’t help with Ivy though. You should have seen her, she wanted nothing to do with me. I could scent that she felt some attraction, but she was so adamant that she didn’t want a mate.”

“I can shed some light on Ivy too.” Finnegan is my lifeline at this point, and I hang on to his every word. “From what I know from feedback on Ivy is that she is fantastically hard working and creative, she produces excellent records that sell extremely well. But she is stubborn, which makes her a nightmare to work with. So I’ve heard some complaints over the years.

“She is also a Human. I remember trying to explain all of this to Rosie, and I had already been pursuing her before I told her we were mates. It took a lot of wooing initially, and then it took her some time to understand the concept of being mated to me. Don’t forget that Rosie’s best friend was already mated, so she came into it with positive exposure.”

I file every little piece of information away as Finnegan continues.

“If Ivy has a negative view on being mated, paired with being stubborn… You coming into her studio while she’s trying to work and laying it on her like that was never going to be received well. I’m not sure what to do with her except maybe apologize and give her some space. But I do know that she will probably come around.”

Finnegan stands, patting me on the arm as he straightens his chair. He says his goodbyes and leaves before I realize that he never asked me what he wanted to when he first came in.

He is right, though.

I was definitely too pushy with Ivy. I knew that anyway, but the context is certainly helpful. She had mentioned that she wasn’t interested in having a mate, not that she wasn’t interested in me. Ivy had also shown recognition, and maybe a little disappointment, when I mentioned Matilda.

I shoot Matilda a quick text.

Sorry if that was pushy. Just want to talk to you about something. If you’re comfortable, we could do tomorrow morning?

She responds before I even put my phone back down, agreeing to meet tomorrow morning before office hours.

I’m ecstatic that she still wants to meet, the end of my tail flicking the ground in excitement. I’m sure that if I think through exactly what I want to say, Matilda will be receptive.

I’m normally not this messy, but something about these two is really throwing me off my game.

I need to figure out what to do about Ivy now. I definitely can’t just text her like I did with Matilda. No, she would be the type to question how I got her number. Besides, I may have frightened her last night, my mind replays how she flinched when I tried to go into the studio. She deserves an in-person apology.

My tail is moving before I realize, guiding me back downstairs to the studio she was in last night. The scant remains of her amber and rosewood scent trickles through the door, and I can hear her soft singing.

Her voice is beautiful. Why didn’t I listen to her music last night?

That’s what I will do today while I work.

Once I steal my nerves, I gently knock on the door.

She is even more stunning today. She’s wearing a loose band tee and denim cut off shorts that leave her full tattooed legs on display. I try not to stare, but I want to know everything about her, every detail of her.

“I thought I was clear last night.” Her voice is firm.

“You were.” I run a hand through my hair. “Could I please come in so I can apologize properly?”