Page 169 of Knot Playing Fair 2

It helped more when Byron got back from settling Tony in Chicago. Byron was... creative. Even if he also seemed to be a bit weirded out by my sudden crying spells. Which... I mean,Iwas abit weirded out by my sudden crying spells, so I couldn’t exactly hold it against him.

When I was at the house, I figured out pretty quick to go to Emiel or Zalen when I was weepy, and Byron or Zalen when I was horny. When Iwasn’tat the house... um, yeah. That was a little bit harder.

I’d been on the hormones for almost a week when Shani cornered me in my office at the restaurant.

“Nat, honey, are you okay?” she began. “I’m allowed to ask you things like this now that I own the place, and you’ve got me worried.”

I swiped surreptitiously at my eyes and failed to stifle a wet laugh. “Yes. Sorry. At the risk of slipping into TMI, I decided to take omega hormones for the upcoming pack heat. I... may have underestimated the effects.”

Understanding dawned.

“Oh. Gotcha.” She made a face of combined amusement and sympathy. “Oof,sweetheart.You might want to take off work early—I think we can muddle through without you until the heat’s over. Pre-heat is bad enough when you grew up learning how to manage it.”

“Oh, god, could you?” I blurted in relief. The last couple of days, I’d been starting to worry that I’d screw up something important with the restaurant’s accounting—double and triple checking every single thing I did.

She chuckled. “I’ll check with Maleeka to make sure, but I think we’re good. Why don’t you go on home today and—”

We both startled as raised voices filtered in from the front of house. After everything that had happened over the past few months, neither of us needed omega hormones to have us jerking upright, whirling toward the sound of the disturbance.

“What in sanity’s name?” Shani said, already heading for the office door.

She met Candy coming the other direction. Patches of ruddy red decorated the waitress’s cheeks, and her eyes were flashing with righteous indignation.

“Boss? Nat?” she began. “There’s a man and a woman out front. Nat, they say they’re your parents? Except, um... they don’t look like you at all? And they’re beingsuperrude. They’re demanding to see you. I told them I’d go get the owner, Shani. I hope that’s okay.”

Shani straightened to her full, if not very impressive, height. “Of course it is, Candy. You did exactly right. Nat?”

Sick panic was twisting through my stomach and intestines, all out of proportion with what was actually happening.

“They’re my parents,” I managed faintly. “I’m adopted.”

The prospect of my father seeing me like this had my breath coming fast and shallow. What if I got emotional? What if they said something cruel and I started crying? What if—

“Nat?” Shani’s face loomed in my vision. She turned toward the door. “Candy, can you give us a minute, please? I’ll be right out to deal with the situation.”

“Sure thing, boss...”

Candy’s voice sounded like it was coming from far away. The door closed with an echoing click.

“Talk to me, Nat,” Shani said. Her small hand closed on my shoulder, a point of reassuring warmth.

“My parents...” I rasped, the words forming at the same time I realized the truth of them. “I’m... cutting them off. They’re vicious, homophobic assholes. But... I can’t see them when I’m like this?”

I hated the way my voice rose uncertainly, making it sound like a question. Shani’s eyes hardened.

“Say no more,” she said. “One pair of bigots, on their way out. In fact, I’m going to enjoy this.” She let me go and rubbedher hands together. “Stay out of sight. You’re not at work today, understand?”

I nodded dumbly, watching as she stalked out of the office with a militant snap in her step.

Humiliation ate at my stomach like acid as I listened to angry voices rising and falling, the sense of the words lost by the muffling door. I should be the ones confronting my parents—trying to defuse the situation so they didn’t make a scene in the public areas of Shani’s business. I shouldn’t be hiding behind an omega—

I cut myself off, a different kind of shame flooding my cheeks with heat.

Shani had wrangled a huge pack for decades, and now ran a highly successful restaurant after less than a year in the industry. Her gender designation didn’t matter one single damned bit when it came to her ability to send a pair of rude, middle-aged betas packing—and it was insulting as hell to imply otherwise.

I sagged into my chair, shaking.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later she came marching back in, not having broken a sweat.

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