Page 59 of Heat & Deceit
“Nah, nothing that intense. But a few calculated business moves could put Todd out of his house.”
Surely he’s joking. I glance up, but Rome’s intense gaze is set on me.
“How?”
He grins, but there’s nothing nice about the look. “Depends on the alpha and his pack. Todd’s a royal, so most of his money is tied up in investments.” He begins to gather the clay on his wheel. “I know some people who know some people.”
That sounds sketchy. Here, I was thinking these guys were good, but I hardly know them. People who know people who know people are rarely ever good.
“So cryptic,” I murmur. “So, you own more than a coffee shop?”
The corner of Rome’s mouth kicks up a little higher. “Something like that.”
“And you’re royal?”
“And you’re low pack?” he asks with a pointed look.
I nod. “You know I am.” My cheeks burn, waiting for the inevitable insult.
“Great, now that that’s out of the way, back to ruining Todd’s life,” he says, breezing past my social standing as though I told him my favorite color was purple. Maybe our different backgrounds aren’t as big of a deal as I think.
“If one had the right information and access, one could tank his portfolio and earnings. He wouldn’t even be able to afford his latte.”
Would he really do that all over Todd insulting me?
“That’s...extreme to defend someone you hardly know.”
“Not really.” Rome stands, ruined clay in his palm. “Besides, it’s more about reminding him where he stands. He doesn’t get to come into our business and cause a scene like that.”
Right. Nothing more than alpha posturing.
“Well, maybe Todd’s already learned his lesson,” I say casually, watching him drop the clay next to another.
“I doubt it. Are you hungry?”
“No,” I lie.
He sighs and starts gathering his things to clean up. “I’m starving, so I’ll probably head out.” Turning, he lowers his voice. “Are you going to be okay with the lumberjack?”
“I think I can handle myself.”
“I have no doubt about that.”
Cleaning off the wheel, I walk to my station and wedge another lump of clay, falling back into my music. Rome catches my gaze and waves goodbye. I wave and turn back to my work, smiling to myself as he leaves. The grin doesn’t fall as I take my seat before the wheel. My mood stays light and cheery while I work on making a bowl. As it begins to take shape, I can tell it won’t be perfect, but I’m not so mad about that now.
Sixteen
NOVA
I call in an order at my favorite Italian restaurant that’s close enough to walk to and make quick work of cleaning up my station. Dusk has the city in its fleeting grip, the sky darkening with each passing second. The air is crisp, and I snuggle into my thin jacket. Winter is around the corner, but the weather in Museton is erratic, flipping between early-fall warm and mid-winter chill on a daily basis. It’s probably time to pull out my heavy coat, but I’m stubbornly wishing for summer to return.
Being cold sucks.
The hostess greets me when I arrive at the restaurant and sends me to the bar. I try not to make eye contact as I slip around the line of people in fancy clothes waiting to be seated. The bar is so packed, my skin crawls, but I find an empty spot off to the side. Sliding into the seat, I settle in to wait for the bartender, noticing they haven’t had time to clean the vacant space. A water and empty martini glass sit on the bar top, and I slide them away from me, so I don’t have to smell the alcohol.
“Really, Carmine, if you wanted to catch a drink with me, you didn’t need to resort to stalking.”
My head whips around.
