3
A flick of my wrist turned the brass key in the lock. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across Cobblers’ Corner’s weathered sign, the golden elf now a dark silhouette against the brick. The meeting at City Hall scheduled for this evening wouldn’t pause for stragglers, and I was already risking being late despite Penny texting three times in the past hour to remind me.
As I turned from the shop, movement caught my eye. A flash of blonde hair, a hurried shuffle. Jake Thompson pressed himself against the brick wall of Miller’s Alley, as if the shadows might swallow him whole.
“Jake?” I called out, quickening my pace.
He jumped at the sound of my voice, his nervous green eyes darting around as if searching for an escape route. “L-Leo! I... I was just...”
I held up a hand, trying to appear non-threatening. “Relax. I just want to talk.”
He shuffled his feet, not quite meeting my eyes. “About R-Rosie’s bakery?”
I nodded, studying his body language. Every fiber of Jake’s being screamed anxiety, but was it guilt or just his usual nervousness?
“You were seen near the bakery the night of the vandalism,” I said gently. “Can you tell me about that?”
Jake’s face paled, and he began to stammer. “I-I didn’t do it! I swear! I know I got fired, but I’d never hurt Rosie like that. She was always kind to me, even when...”
His voice trailed off, and I felt a pang of sympathy. “Even when what?”
He swallowed hard, finally meeting my gaze. “Even when I messed up. I... I have trouble sleeping sometimes. I bake to calm my nerves. Rosie let me use the bakery kitchen after hours. But then I started making mistakes during the day, and she had to let me go.”
I processed this information, the pieces slowly falling into place. “So you were there that night to bake?”
Jake nodded vigorously. “I still have a key. Rosie said I could use the kitchen as long as I cleaned up after myself. But when I got there, I saw the broken windows and the graffiti. I panicked and ran. I should’ve called someone, but I was scared they’d think I did it.”
His scent, tinged with anxiety and shame, told me he was being truthful. I placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for telling me, Jake.”
“Oh, and there was something else. A black SUV idling across the street.”
My pulse quickened. “A black SUV?”
“I figured it was just someone getting late-night food from Ming’s takeout next door.” Jake looked around skittishly, as if he was afraid someone might be listening. “You don’t think it could be connected, do you?”
“There’s a chance.” I gave a short nod. “If you remember anything else, anything at all, please let me know.”
As Jake hurried away, I checked my watch. The emergency city council meeting was about to start. I quickened my pace, my mind whirling with this new information.
The imposing facade of City Hall loomed before me as I jogged up the steps. Penny waited at the entrance, his pastel pink hair and eclectic ensemble of vintage pieces and modern accessories standing out against the austere backdrop of City Hall. Trust Penny to bring a splash of color to even the most serious of occasions.
“You made it,” he said, relief evident in his voice. “I was starting to worry.”
“Sorry, got held up. I ran into Jake. He had some interesting things to say,” I explained.
Penny’s eyes widened with curiosity as he nodded. We hurried inside, our footsteps echoing in the marble-floored lobby. As we made our way to the council chambers, I filled Penny in on my conversation with Jake.
“Poor Jake!” Penny exclaimed. He lowered his voice to a hushed whisper after catching disapproving looks from a pair of women. “Do you think he’s telling the truth?”
I nodded. “I do. His anxiety was genuine, and his story checks out.”
“So, what we know so far… suits asking about property values. And now, a suspicious SUV parked outside Rosie’s the night of the vandalism…” Penny mused, twirling the silver chain of his ever-present lucky penny necklace around his finger.
“But that still leaves us with no leads on who actually vandalized Rosie’s bakery.” I said as we entered the packed council chambers, finding seats near the back. The room buzzed with tension and speculation, concerned citizens whispering among themselves.
The sharp rap of Mayor Holloway’s gavel echoed through the chamber. Whispers died down as he lifted his pudgy hand, commanding silence from the packed rows. His round face set in a grave expression as he spoke.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’re here to address the recent act of vandalism against one of our beloved local businesses...”
As the mayor droned on, my attention wandered to the crowd. That’s when I saw him .
Dominic Steele sat near the front, his broad shoulders and impeccable suit standing out among the sea of worried faces. What was he doing here?
As if sensing my gaze, he turned, his steel-gray eyes locking with mine. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I felt my cheeks flush. His lips curved into a small, knowing smile before he turned back to face the mayor.
“Leo?” Penny whispered, nudging me. “You okay? You smell like a chocolate factory all of a sudden.”
I blinked, realizing my omega pheromones had spiked. “I’m fine,” I muttered, trying to focus on the meeting.
Mayor Holloway cleared his throat. “Now, I’d like to introduce a special guest. Mr. Dominic Steele, representing Vertex Acquisitions. He has some ideas about how we might revitalize our beloved historical district.”
“Vertex Acquisitions?” Penny leaned close. “Aren’t they the ones gobbling up mom-and-pop shops to build those soulless strip malls?”
My fingers drummed against my thigh. “And now they want our district,” I mumbled.
Mr. Steele stood, buttoning his jacket as he approached the podium. The tailored fabric hugged his broad shoulders in a way that made my mouth go dry. His powerful alpha scent filled the room, causing a ripple of whispers. A familiar flutter stirred in my stomach. He had no business looking that good when he was the enemy.
“Thank you, Mayor Holloway,” Mr. Steele began, his deep voice commanding attention. His icy silver gaze swept across the room, pausing to linger on me for a heartbeat too long. “I understand the distress this act of vandalism has caused your community. At Vertex Acquisitions, we believe in preserving the charm and character of historical districts like yours while bringing in new opportunities for growth and prosperity. In fact, one of our first priorities would be implementing round-the-clock security patrols and surveillance systems to prevent these sorts of incidents from happening again.”
My fingers curled into my palms as his gaze swept over the crowd, studying us like an owl picking out its next meal from a field of mice.
“What kind of opportunities?” Mr. Tang called out.
Mr. Steele pulled out a vintage-style pocket watch, checking it with practiced grace before tucking it away. “Mixed-use developments. Boutique retail spaces. Perhaps even a luxury hotel to draw in tourism. All while maintaining the district’s historical facade, of course.”
“That’s developer speak for gutting our shops,” Penny whispered.
My fingers curled into fists as I shifted my weight in my chair. Someone needed to stand and challenge his corporate doublespeak. The last thing we needed was help from a white-collar wolf in an expensive suit, no matter how well he wore it.
“The Historical District Protection Act limits new construction,” I said, my voice cutting through the murmurs. “How do you plan to work around that?”
A ghost of a smile played at the corner of his mouth. “There are always ways to modernize while respecting tradition, Mr. Sterling-Hart. I’d be happy to discuss the details with you after the meeting.”
As Mr. Steele outlined his company’s vision, I felt a knot tighten in my stomach, twisting with each word he spoke. The words sounded good on the surface, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.
“Dominic Steele…” Penny leaned in close, his voice hushed. “Isn’t that the guy from your shop? The one with the shoe emergency?”
I nodded, my mind racing as I tried to connect the dots between Mr. Steele’s sudden appearance at my shop and his presence here at City Hall.
The memory of his face in my shop’s lamplight flashed through my mind, his steel-gray eyes watching me intently as I’d examined the damaged heel of his Oxford. A man like him didn’t wander a small, historical district such as ours at that hour without purpose.
My grandfather always said you could read a person’s story in their shoes. Mr. Steele’s? His spoke of secrets.
As the meeting adjourned, I watched Mr. Steele shake hands with the mayor and several council members. His easy charm and confident demeanor seemed to win them over effortlessly. He moved through the crowd with practiced grace, his vintage pocket watch chain glinting against his tailored navy suit. Each handshake came with a perfectly timed laugh or a knowing nod—a masterclass in corporate diplomacy that made my skin crawl. Mayor Holloway’s round face practically glowed with approval, his fake smile wider than ever as Mr. Steele leaned in to share what appeared to be an inside joke.
“Come on,” I said to Penny, standing abruptly. “We need to get to Rosie’s. The police should be done with the scene by now, and she’ll need help cleaning up tomorrow.”
I pushed through the heavy oak doors of City Hall into the late afternoon sun. A flood of council members and citizens poured out onto the stone steps. Someone’s elbow jabbed my ribs. I stumbled, my leather satchel slipping off my shoulder.
I adjusted my bag, and turned, only to realize my pink-haired companion wasn’t beside me anymore. I scanned the crowd. “Penny?”
A sea of suits and blazers blocked my view. The steps descended in three tiers, each crowded with clusters of people discussing the meeting’s outcome.
“Over by the fountain, maybe?” I mumbled as I tried to catch a glimpse of a head of familiar pink hair or a whiff of cotton candy and citrus.
I searched the plaza where food trucks had set up every midday to serve lunch. The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pavement as vendors switched out their menu signs and restocked condiments for the dinner crowd. Two women in matching pantsuits blocked my path, deep in conversation as they debated property values and which vendor to patronize. A courier on a bike weaved through the crowd, forcing me to step back.
I grabbed my phone from my satchel. No service—typical dead zone around these old stone walls.
“Save me a bubble tea,” I muttered under my breath, knowing Penny would make a beeline for his favorite cart if he ended up on that side of the plaza.
The crowd suddenly parted like water around a stone, revealing Mr. Steele’s broad shoulders and that perfectly tailored navy suit. I froze mid-step as Mr. Steele and his three-piece-suited lieutenants swept down City Hall’s weathered limestone steps like a corporate avalanche. His cool gray eyes locked forward, jaw set in that signature alpha determination while his expensive Italian loafers—the same ones I had repaired—clicked against century-old stone. The crisp scent of pine and sandalwood cut through the plaza’s usual lunch hour aromas.
A sleek, silver Aston Martin purred to a stop at the base of City Hall’s steps, its tinted windows reflecting the afternoon sun. One of Mr. Steele’s suited minions emerged from the driver’s side, keys extended toward his boss with a slight bow of his head. The gesture struck me as medieval—a servant presenting tribute to his lord. My fingers twitched against my leather satchel as Mr. Steele accepted the keys with the casual indifference of someone who owned far more extravagant things.
I watched as he held court near his fancy car, surrounded by eager faces vying for his attention like moths drawn to an expensive flame. The tie pin secured to his perfectly-knotted burgundy tie gleamed in the fading evening sun as he leaned against the hood, one hand in his pocket while the other punctuated whatever point he delivered to his rapt audience.
I spun on my heel, my vintage wingtips clicking against the worn cobblestones.
“Running away, little cobbler?” My skin prickled with awareness. His voice, low and rich as aged bourbon, was pleasant to my ears.
Too late to escape.
Pine and sandalwood wrapped around me, stirring something primal I refused to acknowledge.
I hadn’t even seen him move. Damn alphas.
“Unlike some people, I have actual work to do,” I said. “Not just schmoozing for sport.”
He closed the distance between us, radiating heat. “It’s called networking in my profession.”
“Is that so?” My heart hammered against my ribs. “And here I thought you were just collecting souls for your tithe.”
A dangerous smile played at his lips. “Careful. Someone might think you actually like me.”
“You’ve caught me. Next thing you know, I’ll be joining your fan club.”
His laugh, deep and genuine, caused butterflies to vibrate in my belly. My pulse quickened as he stepped closer, forcing me to tilt my head back to meet his gaze.
“I’d have to start one first. Care to be a founding member?”
“Depends. What are the membership benefits?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my voice lower than intended. I stepped back, fighting the urge to inhale more of his intoxicating scent.
“We could discuss that…” He smiled at me, his incisors white and sharp. “Alongside those revitalization plans you mentioned in the meeting, I’m thinking somewhere more… private. Maybe over dinner?”
A warm blush spread across my skin. Damn him and his bedroom voice.
“A key piece in our strategy could be your store.”
I bristled. “So our Historical District is next on your list… alongside all those souls, of course.”
“Everyone needs a hobby.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “Though I prefer to think of it as... private acquisitions. The souls, not the real estate.”
“Sorry to disappoint, but this particular asset isn’t up for grabs.”
His pupils dilated, a predator sensing his next meal. He leaned close enough that his breath tickled my ear, the spicy notes of cinnamon in his scent making my head spin. “I do enjoy a challenge,” he purred. My skin tingled from his proximity.
Are we talking about my shop or something else entirely?
“Mr. Steele? You have that meeting at six.” A woman in a tailored periwinkle suit approached, interrupting our exchange.
“Be right there, Abigail.” He straightened his tie, his silver eyes never leaving mine. “Until next time, Leo.”
I watched him stride away, cursing my racing pulse.
“Oh. My. God.” Penny’s voice cut through my daze as he materialized at my side, a bubble tea in each hand. You will not believe the gossip I just heard… uh, Leo… you’re doing it again. The chocolate thing.”
I shook my head, trying to clear it. “Sorry. Let’s go.”
I felt a prickle on the back of my neck and glanced back to find Mr. Steele observing our departure, his expression unreadable.