Page 119 of The Gift
“Not happening.” He smarts as he leans down to pick his chair up, apologising to the diners around him instead of Bailey.
“Your choice,” I reply coolly once he turns his attention back to me. “Taylor, you know if you’d taken my call once during the past few days, I wouldn’t be here. We could have settled this like gentlemen.”
“You? Pack Bailey are getting desperate, and sadly everyone is getting front row seats for the show.”
“How do you mean?” I ask, for sake of clarification.
“We don’t have enough time before coffee for me to explain how incompetent you are. I have an adviser on hand if you need someone to explain in layman’s terms that everything you’re trying to do with the Alliance is both illegal and amoral, yet every day you take good reputable people and packs further along that path. But then again, everyone knows you focus on the trash instead of striving toward a new world. Pack Bailey are the grunt of our world, and little more, let’s not keep the façade going too much longer; it’s getting exhausting. Focus on what you’re good at, which is finding things, Henley, and leave the rest of us to figure out a way forward.”
“Are you still keen on the omega factory you tabled at the last Alliance meeting?” I ask, because seriously, it continually surprises they really did table it.
“It is the way forward,” he replies, his tone clearly condescending.
“Not the only one,” I snap, Bailey’s hand in mine squeezes slightly.
“This discussion is superfluous. Any day now, I suspect we will receive an announcement that the laws have reverted back to allow access to those omegas you have found. DNA testing proves ownership, and every one ofthemis already owned. Isn’t that true?”
“Not anymore. We’ve worked hard at moving on. Besides the fact any contract for purchase was nullified because, you know, it was an illegal scam.” He scoffs loudly, so I talk over the top of him. “It’s called progression, Taylor, you should make a time to discuss the benefits of leaving the past behind.”
He barks an unamused laugh. “I think all this is unsuitable discussion for dinner. If you have concerns, table it for the next Alliance meeting that I won’t be attending.”
The rest of his pack snicker, restarting their entrees. Taylor insisting, they do, after his spoiled food is rushed away.
“Nothing else?” he says after an exaggerated pause where he tries very hard to ignore our presence. The diners around us are feigning discretion but listening to every word we say.
“Where is Thomas by the way. And Francine?”
“I’m not sure what game you’re playing, Henley, but now is not the time.”
Shrugging at him, and neither agreeing or disagreeing, I leave them, and lead Bailey a short distance away. “You want the honours?”
She shakes her head for a final time. Because this was her revenge to take, but we all deal differently.
“You don’t have to watch,” I offer, brushing her long glossy hair off her face, curling it around my finger.
“I will be watchingyou, Henley. They don’t matter to me, but you do.”
I kiss her slowly, feeling her ass up, definitely inappropriately if you use Laurent’s standards, but Pack Bailey live for times like this. We’ve been waiting a long time for the thrill and spark she’s brought with her, and fuck anyone trying to rush us now.
The type of people who eat here do not tolerate uncouth behaviour or inappropriate noise, and they definitely don’t appreciate PDA. The other thing patrons at Laurent loathe is electronic devices, the owners going so far to boast their establishment is camera free. I guess that’s why I paid the exorbitant booking fee; privacy and discretion is guaranteed.
“Are you getting hungry?” I ask after kissing her without a care in the world.
“For you or food?” She laughs into my mouth before pushing me away.
With a final wink, I wind my way back to where Pack Miller continues to eat. Taylor’s fingers tapping impatiently as he waits for a replacement flaky pastry bite.
From the corner of my eye, I see Koda morphing out of the shadows to stand next to me, and I hear Reno’s voice before I see him at my back. I wait until Ashton is at hers.
Pack Miller looks for direction from their alpha, and he’s still got his head up his ass, probably about to check his schedule to see if he has time for shit to go south.
“On the count of three?” Koda suggests, a slow, maniacal smirk spreading over his face.
“One,” I count off.
“Two,” Reno adds.
We look over to Bailey, and as she mouths off three.
