Page 5 of Packing for Vacation

I want him to wear mine, too.

“Let’s go this way.” Matiu leads me around the back of the building, carrying my case in one hand with ease rather than rolling it. We pass a small parking lot reserved for staff and enter through a different door than the one I tried earlier. Smart.

Entering this way means we pass only a handful of rooms in the old building—all closed—before reaching his office. He holds the heavy door open for me, then gestures for me to take a seat in one of the chairs facing his desk. My suitcase is tucked neatly out of the way behind the door.

“Are you hungry? Can I get you a tea or coffee? Juice? Water?”

“Water would be lovely, thank you.”

He disappears. I take the time to look around. His qualifications hang on the wall, and I note that he has two degrees—a Bachelor of Laws, and a BA. The room looks like a typical lawyer’s office. There’s a bookcase filled with what I assume are all legal textbooks until I look closer, my eyes zeroing in on a shelf that I realise is dedicated to Māori topics. I turn my head sideways, as if that will help me read some of the unfamiliar words with more ease.

The door opens a moment later. Matiu hands me a tall glass. “Thank you,” I tell him. “I’ve come from the start of our winter, and I’m noticing the heat.”

“I can imagine. You’re Canadian?”

I nod, smiling. “You’re the first person here to guess correctly. I keep getting asked ‘So, where in the States are you from?’”

“I guess I’ve got a good ear for accents.” Instead of taking the chair behind his desk, he sits down in the chair next to mine. “So I bumped into one of the senior partners out there and let her know the bare minimum about this situation. She’s an alpha, the one in red today.”

I nod, vaguely remembering her from outside.

“I don’t have any clients coming in. We’re all taking it easy and winding down before the Christmas break, so you and I are free to get out of here shortly, I just need to send a couple of emails first, if that’s okay?”

“That’s fine. Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your work.”

“I’m sure. I can’t think of anything worse than working on a day like today,” he adds, nodding at the sea view outside the window. “You’re a good excuse for me to pull the plug on the year a few hours early.”

“On the year?”

“Mm,” he nods. “I was already going to start my leave this afternoon. I have four weeks off.”

Four weeks of leave to match my four weeks of vacation. I point to my suitcase. “And you said the suit belongs to a colleague?”

“Yeah, Scott.” He seems to hesitate for a moment, full lips parting earlier than when he has words for. “He's a good guy. Logistically, this is going to be interesting, with him in Wellington.”

I should tell him that I'll be going into heat soon, that two alphas will be better than one for the job, but before I can work up the courage he’s already rising from his chair and circling the desk.

“I’ll finish off these last few tasks, and then I’m all yours.”

I blush at the thought of what all yours might entail, my body betraying me again, slick pooling in my underwear faster than the absorbent fabric can handle. Matiu focuses on his work, but as the minutes tick by there’s an underlying tension in the way he moves. I try—and fail—not to stare.

He’s so attractive that it’s stupid. I can’t help but feel like he’s way out of my league.

The wooden door may be heavy, but the walls are thin. I hear the words “Matiu” and “Not a client, no,” from somewhere in the hall.

“Are they gossiping already?” I whisper.

His brown eyes dart towards the door briefly. “I would say so.”

I cringe. “Sorry.”

He flashes me a wry smile. “It’s all good.”

He continues typing. I doomscroll, cycling through various social media apps without really taking anything in. Josephine, Édouard’s mother—and my former mother-in-law—comes up on my feed with a horrifically angled selfie of her and Coco. Tears burn at the back of my throat at the sight of my dog and the unfairness of it all. When I moved to Ottawa to help my grandfather in his final few months I thought I’d at least be given a chance to see Coco, but Josephine had slammed the door in my face and told me she’d call the police if I ever went there again.

It was a perfectly reasonable response to a son’s ex turning up to visit the dog her former pack refused to let her keep when their relationship ended, of course.

“You okay?”