Page 24

The Staff

Emily beckoned Conner over to her side of the front desk. She patted a tall stack of plastic totes that had been dropped off by a man he’d recognized as working at the café down the street. “Monsieur Holland needs you to bring these to the kitchen.”

Conner narrowed his eyes at her. She might’ve been his supervisor, but that didn’t make her the boss. In fact, he’d heard Monsieur Holland ask Emily to move these totes herself. And he would’ve pushed that fact, too, if he hadn’t been so damned curious about all the goings-on in the hotel today.

The collection of people who’d been streaming in toward the banquet hall had been such a ragtag, mismatched bunch, he’d been getting more and more curious as the day wore on. It had started off innocently enough, with a familiar-looking couple and their baby who’d been meeting with Monsieur Holland, and along with them were their family members—a mom, a dad, some siblings or cousins, a niece and nephew maybe. Conner heard them talking about the celebration that was about to begin.

But then things began to get interesting…

The guests began to arrive. First, a tall, slim man had come in wearing a fitted navy pin-striped suit, though without a shirt beneath the jacket, offering a glimpse of his smooth, freckled chest beneath. He’d paired the ensemble with neon-pink high heels and a matching feather boa, eyes hidden behind oversized shades even though he was indoors, strutting down the hallway as if it were a catwalk. Another man, bulky with muscle, with nearly every inch of his exposed skin covered with intricate tattoos, and when he winked and smiled at Conner (making him more than a little hot under the collar), there’d been a flash of a gold tooth.

There were no similarities between the guests, as far as he could tell. Not blood relatives, certainly. He’d heard it was for a wedding, but that didn’t seem right. Who had a wedding ceremony at a hotel? A reception, perhaps. Although he was pretty sure he’d seen a pastor.

And when the man in a tuxedo turned up with a camera crew in tow, Conner decided there was no way he could resist taking a peek. So even though it was Emily who’d been told to cart those boxes to the kitchen, Conner smiled and said, “Sure thing.”

The kitchen was its usual brand of chaos. Cherie ruled over her staff with an iron fist, throwing in some colorful language for good measure. Even with her yelling and cursing, there was a light, festive mood to the bustle. Turned out it was true, everyone loved a wedding.

“Where do you want these?” he asked, raising his voice to be heard over the din.

Cherie pointed toward a long stainless-steel counter that looked to have been cleared for just this reason. “Can you unload the totes over there? Carefully!”

Conner didn’t mind being roped into unloading the totes because it gave him more time to satisfy his curiosity. When he pulled the lid off the first tote, a sweet aroma emerged that had his mouth watering. He got to work lining the counter with all kinds of baked goodies. Decadent cupcakes piled high with buttercream, golden-crusted tarts filled with raisins and nuts, and a colorful array of macarons that two of the servers, Benny and Delia, got to work lining on a five-tiered display.

“Which one’s your favorite,” Benny asked Delia, “Grounded or Crave?” He said it with all the gravity as if he were asking whether she preferred life or death instead of her choice of café.

She hummed. “Depends. I prefer Crave’s lattes but Grounded’s baking. You?”

Benny shook his head, his hair long enough to flop into his eyes. “I’m the opposite. Have you tried the cheese scones at Crave? What they really need to do is combine their forces so we can get the best of both worlds in one easy location.”

“Isn’t that what this wedding is?” Delia laughed. “The merging of empires.”

Ah! Conner realized. That’s where I recognized the couple from .

The door leading to the banquet hall swung open, and the owner of Grounded snuck in, looking over his shoulder for signs of pursuit. “Quick, what can I do to help?” he asked, descending on the table between us. He was dressed to the nines, looking mighty fine for his wedding day, his curly brown hair wrestled into submission with product.

He’d barely had time to dress one row on the platter, though, before the door swung open again, this time his groom, golden-brown eyes narrowed in a mock glare. The image he was going for was made less effective with the baby he had propped on his hip, dressed in a frilly dress of pink-and-white tulle. “Liam,” he drawled, prowling closer .

Liam grinned as wide as he could, holding his hands up in surrender. “Jared! I was just checking on their progress. I’m not working, I swear.”

“I don’t believe you for a second, Husband .” Jared leaned in with a teasing smile and pecked his lips quickly before taking one of his hands and leading him from the kitchen. “It’s our day. No work allowed!”

In all the commotion, Conner was tempted to take one of the desserts for himself, but Cherie must’ve had some crazy mindreading skills, because she smacked his hand before he could do much more than think about it. “Hands off! Make yourself useful and go restock the bar. Shoo!”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, following the grooms out onto the floor, where a whole new kind of chaos was just ramping up.

Conner overheard someone talking about the beautiful ceremony held on the rooftop terrace, overlooking the city, but now it was time for the reception. The guests had begun to filter into the banquet hall as fast as the elevator could spit them out, coming down from the terrace, and the DJ had put on some upbeat music to get things started.

Timothy was the bartender for the event, but he looked relieved when Conner came over. “Hey, Cherie mentioned I should come help restock the bar?”

“Thanks gods,” he gushed. “The way some of this crew is already drinking, I’ll be running out of booze within the hour. Here, you man the station for a minute. It’ll be faster if I go since I know where everything is and what we need.”

“Oh. Right. Okay.” Conner didn’t mention that he wouldn’t turn 21 until next month and he couldn’t legally serve alcohol until then. All he would have to do was stand here and convince people to hydrate with the non-alcoholic essentials before getting into the booze .

Conner wiped the counter down, trying to look busy while people watching. Timothy had been right, the crowd looked to be up for a good time. The dance floor was already filling up, even before the cake had been cut. It was easy to see the extravagant three-tier cake from here, though it wasn’t like any wedding cake he’d ever seen before. It had a rolled fondant icing, but it looked to be decorated with spices instead of flowers or lace. Cinnamon sticks, cardamom pods, and star anise were set in stunning patterns. And were those… peppercorns?

Movement caught Conner’s eye, and he turned to see the man from earlier heading over, his hands behind his back. Conner greeted him with a smile. “Liam, right? Sorry, I can’t remember your last name.”

“Well, it was Turner until about half an hour ago. Now it’s Klein.”

Liam was smirking slyly and from behind his back he brought a folded napkin which he set on the bar top. “I couldn’t help but notice you drooling over the macarons. I didn’t know what flavor you would like, but this is my favorite.” He slid it across from counter toward Conner.

“For me?” he asked. “Oh, I shouldn’t. I’m not allowed to…” He trailed off as Liam shrugged.

“If your boss gives you any trouble, you send him my way. His husband and I go way back.” He nodded to the vibrantly pink cookie with yellow icing peeking from behind its layers. “Go on. One cookie won’t get you fired. It’s strawberry lemonade.”

With a quick dart of his fingers, Conner popped the entire cookie into his mouth in one bite, and the sweet-and-sour flavor exploded in his mouth. “Ohmywff,” he mumbled around the cookie, trying his best not to spray crumbs.

“Right?” Liam said, clearly pleased with his reaction. “I really won the lottery when I met Jared, even if I was too blind to see it right away. ”

Conner reluctantly swallowed, then poured Liam a glass of water for something to keep busy. “I’ve heard there was a little rivalry between the cafés. So, which one of you made the cake?”

Liam’s smile was blinding. “We both did. Turns out, we make a pretty great team.” Maybe there was some truth to what Benny had said about the cafés joining forces.

They were interrupted when a large camera was shoved in their faces. The flash went off before Conner could turn to see what was going on. “Don’t mind the cameras,” the man in a tuxedo said from off to one side. “Just smile, pretend he said something funny. Ha-ha-ha.” He wasn’t actually laughing, just trying to offer a cue.

Liam rolled his eyes. “We never should’ve invited you, Banana Sunday ,” he said as some sort of private joke, but there was a trace of amusement in his voice that was impossible to miss.

“Are you bothering my husband, Elijah?” Jared came over and hooked an arm around Liam’s waist, spinning him around once before dipping him back and giving him an obscene kiss.

“I would never. I’m a fly on the wall, Jared,” Elijah said, before whispering to the cameraman. “Did you get a shot of that kiss?”

Jared and Liam were beyond caring who was watching at this point. “Time to cut the cake, Husband.” Then he quickly pointed at Elijah. “Just please, stay out of the way, and promise you’ll send me all the footage of the wedding.”

Elijah put his hands up in defense. “Hey, that was the deal we made. Free wedding photography in exchange for the publicity.” He blew them a kiss as they walked away. “Don’t forget, you never would’ve met if it weren’t for me.”

Conner was insanely curious about what kind of publicity he meant, but Timothy had returned with a cart loaded up with cases of beer and bottles of wine, champagne, and top-shelf whiskey, so Conner supposed that meant his job at the bar was done. He wasn’t ready to head back to the front desk, so instead, he grabbed a dish bin and decided to make a pass of the room, picking up the empty glasses left abandoned on tables, and in one case, in a potted plant.

As the happy couple made their way to the cake table, the tuxedoed man and his camera crew circled the room. He whispered directions to them. “One of you get to the front, the other, get a wide view from this angle. Hustle, I don’t want to miss this.”

The DJ turned off the music and called for everyone’s attention, and the crowd turned to watch, offering catcalls and shrill whistles in appreciation. With exaggerated care, Liam fed a forkful of cake to his new husband, but then, he brought his other hand up and smeared a big gob of icing across his face. “Gotcha,” he said, before grabbing him by the front of his tux and kissing him hard, getting icing all over himself in the process too.

It was a sticky, sugary, lovey-dovey mess, and Conner’s heart gave a heavy thump at how absolutely stinking adorable they were together. He would find his own omega someday, his own happily ever after. He had plenty of time, and in the meanwhile, he would pay close attention and learn from others how to best love his own hypothetical future husband.

Elijah sidled up to Conner and sighed in dreamy bliss. “They’re perfect together, right?”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“I did that,” he said smugly, tapping his chest. “They’re only together thanks to Lonely Alpha , ya know. I’m the director, Elijah Campbell. Are you a fan of the show?”

Conner winced, thinking of the cheesy, over-the-top reality show that featured ridiculous drama and lots of bare skin to lure in their rapt audience. “Uh, not so much.”

Elijah seemed to deflate a little, but he quickly rallied, turning to gaze adoringly at the newly married couple who were now passing out squares of cake to the awaiting guests. Conner swore he could see that same yearning for a happy ending in the director’s eyes. “Oh, well… just wait until you see what I have planned for next se ason. I’ll make a fan out of you yet.”

Behind closed doors at The Scarlet Hotel, anything can happen… even healing a broken spirit.

Being an FBI agent means risking your life to save others, but alpha Peter Brown had never given any thought to what would happen if he survived . After being critically injured on the job, Peter isn’t sure who he is anymore, but he knows his future as a field agent is over. Through surgeries and treatment, the life he used to know fades away, leaving his body weak and scarred—his spirit broken. Now, his doctors are telling him it’s time to get back up, but after living in shadows for so long, he isn’t sure how he will ever find the light.

Omega Casey Winslow knows not to get overly attached to the patients who come to him for physical therapy. This is just a stage of their lives, and soon enough, they always move on. That’s the goal of their treatment, after all. But when Casey first meets Peter, he isn’t sure the man even wants to move on. Peter is haunted by demons, and Casey finds himself getting too invested, not just with his treatment but with the future he believes they might have together.