Page 10 of A Hutch for Hoover

“We want the red one,” demanded a small girl. “Do you have a red one?”

“Of course.” I directed Jen to make the flavor they asked for. The only red we had was the same one we’d made for Karma, and Jen and Ronny soon had two blenders whirring away with the flavor requested by the little ones. She filled the cups about three quarters to minimize spillage and lined them up. “Red all around.”

After the giggling girls left, slurping up their smoothies which were much healthier than they probably imagined, I served the next group and the next and the next. It was a never-ending line, which made me feel great, except I was having a heck of a time letting my assistants go and have a look around for themselves. Much less, leave myself to track down my mate. I could still scent him in the building, but was he still here? Or had he left his scent to torment me while I searched for him for the rest of my life?

Dramatic, much?

“Ronny, go take a quick walk around, okay?”

“You sure? It’s still very busy.”

“I hate for you to miss out. As soon as you get back, Jen can go.” They needed the break, and there were so many things to check out. “I’m just sorry I can’t give you longer.”

Once Ronny was gone, we were even busier, but he circled back in about ten minutes. I knew he’d wanted to stay gone longer, but I promised myself I’d reward him, and Jen, as well, since she ended up refusing to leave at all.

An evening that had been flying by slowed to tortoise speed as I wished for the night to be over so I could find my mate and at least talk together. But it dragged on and on and on. Networking didn’t matter anymore, just finishing up so I could find my mate. I caught glimpses of him in the crowd from time to time, but it wasn’t enough.

Chapter Nine

Hoover

I never really thought of making smoothies as an art form, or anything particularly special for that matter. I figured people just threw mixes and some cut-up fruit in a blender, mixed it all up, and served them. Done. I figured it was kind of like when you ordered those fancy frozen coffee drinks and they poured the mix with ice and charged a bunch. But, watching my mate as he combined fresh ingredients in a way that wowed every single person who stopped by his table was whoa.

Grant had offered to leave as soon as we scented each other and figured out the cause of my discomfort—me jumping to conclusions—but I didn’t want that for him. He was at Community Days to network, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of that. I made the excuse that I wanted to meet people, too, which I had considered before I scented him, so it wasn’t a lie. But, even as I walked around and talked to multiple people, my eyes were never far from him.

My rabbit did not love me visiting other tables, especially those with alphas and omegas who weren’t mated. But I’d waited all these years to find the omega who was mine, and I could wait a few more hours to let him grow his business and maybe grow mine, too.

The way his scent bopped around the parking lot was starting to make sense—everybody, and I meant everybody, in that place was holding a smoothie cup. At some point or another, they’d been to his table and left with a delicious treat in hand. He was the highlight of the event.

And I was proud to call him mine. Or soon to be mine, depending on your definition.

I did manage to get a few business cards from some places who were interested in discussing consignment with me. But I didn’t have my A game on. Or my B game. Or my C game. Aside from showing some random, not-well-done pictures on my phone and blabbing half distracted, I didn’t do anything right when it came to marketing myself.

I didn’t have flyers.

I didn’t have a website.

I didn’t even have a business card, and there was something really unprofessional about writing your name and number on a random napkin to hand to a potential business partner.

But, being in shifter spaces did have some benefit. More than one person I met said something along the lines of, “I see how it is,” and looked in the direction my gaze kept drifting. They had their marks to prove they really did get it.

Had this been a human-only Community Days, I wouldn’t have come close to the small success I managed. I’d look to them like someone who didn’t care enough to focus on the conversation at hand. And there was a little of that here, but not at all on the same level.

Now the event was finally over, the lights bright again, everybody packing up their tables. I was with Grant, helping him put everything away.

There wasn’t any food left. He’d made the last smoothie a half hour earlier and sent his helpers off via rideshare to dart night. There weren’t a lot of menus or business cards left either, a handful at most. But we got what was left packed into his totes, stacked a few empty bins together, and, just as we were about done, Karma came over.

She was the owner of the club. Or maybe she was mated to the owner, which I guess made her the owner. I hadn’t heard of her before tonight, but around here, she was queen of the universe. After meeting her only briefly, I could see why. She wasfabulous and surprisingly human…I thought. Something just below the surface said she might possibly be more, but it would be rude to ask.

“How’d everything work out?” she asked Grant with a wink.

And it wasn’t a sexy kind of wink. It was theI know what’s going onversion. Coming from her, there was no creepiness to it—it was actually sweet.

“Beyond my wildest dreams. You were right,” he said. “Thanks for helping me out. And for inviting me tonight.”

“I do what I do.” She gave a half wave and kept on moving.

I’d have to ask Grant about what all she did besides the invite, later. For now, all I wanted was for the two of us to get out of there, and find someplace where we could talk about what was happening and where to go next. Fine, I wanted to talk with our bodies, but same difference.

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