by Lisa Oliver
“So, Mr. Bosch are you planning to remain mute this evening, or are you going to tell me a bit about yourself?”
“Call me Asaph.” Well, the man definitely had a delicious growl going for him, but was clearly lacking in conversation skills.
“Asaph. How lovely,” Ronan’s tones suggested it was anything but. “Please, tell me about yourself.”
Asaph swallowed a couple of times, and Ronan found that an Adam’s apple could be quite a thing of beauty on the right person. Don’t get distracted, he reminded himself. Asaph’s mouth opened, and just as Ronan was sure something intelligent was going to come out of it, the waitress arrived with their drinks. A very pretty and friendly waitress with Penny on her name tag.
“Oh, I do love your boots – they look so soft.”
Ronan sat back in his chair and smiled at the woman who was eyeing his feet like a dog starving for steak. “Thank you. Handmade of course. My bootmaker will be thrilled that you like them.”
“I just don’t know how you can even walk on heels that high. I’m sure if I tried I’d fall and break my ankle within a couple of steps.”
“It takes practice,” Ronan said, “and fit is so important. If the body of the boot isn’t supporting your whole foot and ankle properly then it can make walking and dancing difficult.”
“You dance in them too? How fascinating. Where…?”
“Mr. Montgomery and I are waiting for menus so we can place an order,” Asaph’s harsh voice interrupted the young waitress and Ronan scowled as the pretty girl blushed, looking mortified.
“Don’t worry about him, Penny,” Ronan said, ignoring Asaph completely. “If you bring us our menus quickly, I’ll make sure he leaves you a big tip.”
Penny smiled and Ronan gave her a wink. Then he turned back to Asaph who was wearing a scowl. “Are you always rude to people who work for you, or is this for my benefit; if it’s for me, then forget it. I don’t take kindly to unpleasant people.”
“I thought you’d come here to have dinner with me. Not discuss shoes.” Ooh, there’s the Alpha snarl my mother warned me about. But instead of feeling scared, Ronan had a strong urge to laugh. Shaman Waters was right; his mate didn’t have the power to affect him in that way…although in others, definitely. Ronan dropped a napkin on his lap and smiled sweetly.
“Of course, you’re quite right. My apologies. Please, let’s talk about you. I’m sure it’s a far more interesting topic.”
Hopefully the food won’t take long he thought after Penny brought menus and they’d placed their orders. Asaph was a walking God in Ronan’s eyes, his scent was intoxicating and his voice had that growly undertone that shivered its way up Ronan’s spine. Unfortunately, as Asaph started talking about mergers, takeovers, new properties and some piffle about investments, interest rates and capital gains tax, Ronan was finding it hard not to yawn. He appreciated that Asaph loved his work – he was passionate about his dancing. But as Asaph talked his way through the appetizer and was still going on about work concerns as Ronan finished his entrée, he frantically wanted a change in topic.
“So Asaph,” Ronan said, when Asaph finally stopped for a breath, or in this case another mouthful of food, “What do you like to do when you’re not working?”
“Not working?” Asaph chewed slowly. Apparently the question needed a lot of thought. Ronan hadn’t thought it would be that hard to answer.
“You know,” Ronan prompted. “Days off, weekends, holidays. What do you do when you get home in the evenings? How do you spend your down time? What do you like to do for fun?”
“I have a very full social calendar – benefits, fundraisers, business social outings. I often take clients out for dinner and a show. I’m barely ever home.”
That’s not going to make our mated life easy, Ronan thought before saying out loud, “I take it you don’t have a problem going to some of these events on your own. I work three nights a week.”
“You’d want to come with me?” Asaph’s face blanched. Ronan wasn’t sure what he’d said wrong.
“Well, of course, unless you plan on hiding me in a tower somewhere. As my ma…partner, I’d be supporting you in all things, as I imagine you’d support me.”
“You can’t…er…you’d be bored silly. Most of these social events are glorified networking. I’m sure you could find other things to do.”
“So you don’t take dates to any of these functions?”
Asaph went to say something, then quickly closed his mouth. Ronan took out his phone and typed Asaph’s name into Google, clicking on the image results.
“Hmm,” he said. “You’re right; you do have a lot of social engagements.” He read from the screen, “Asaph Bosch seen here with Leticia Bowman; Asaph Bosch and lady friend having drinks; Asaph Bosch with Sylvia Dawson at the blah blah social; Asaph Bosch and Leticia Bowman on a date at The Watch Tower – are wedding bells in the air?” He raised an eyebrow at Asaph, and would’ve gloated at the ashen face, if his heart didn’t feel like it’d just shattered into a million pieces. “Well, are they?”
“No.” Asaph said quickly. “Leticia and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.”
“I see. There’re very few pictures of you on your own.” Ronan could see all too clearly what Asaph was trying so hard not to say. His fated mate was a social butterfly; seen in all of the right places if the photos on Google were to be believed; but had no intention of ever being seen with a man. Ronan guessed he should be pleased he’d gotten a free meal out of the deal.
Picking up his napkin, Ronan gently blotted his mouth. A grand exit would be ruined with anything caught in his teeth. Laying the napkin carefully to the side of his plate, he looked Asaph right in the eyes. Wow, what beautiful eyes. But Ronan refused to be distracted. “Thank you for a wonderful meal, Mr. Bosch. It’s been thrilling hearing about the wonderful world of investments.” Ronan was hurt enough not to care if Asaph scented the lie. He leaned over the table, and whispered, “but if you think I’m the type of chump who’d sit at home night after night, because my so called frigging mate doesn’t want to be seen with me in public, then newsflash big shot. You sound about as much fun as a soggy sparkler, and just as appealing. Mating bond or not, I refuse to associate with anyone who wouldn’t proud to be seen with me.”
“I never said that,” Asaph said angrily.
“You didn’t have to,” Ronan said, scrolling through the photos still mocking him from his screen and turning his phone so Asaph could see. “The one thing all of these people have in common, the ones who are allowed to be seen on your arm, staring at you with adoration and dollar signs in their eyes…they’re all wearing dresses. It doesn’t take Einstein to work out why you wouldn’t want to be seen with me. Good night, Mr. Bosch.”
Thanking his genetics, Ronan stood in one fluid motion and made for the door. He half turned; Asaph had risen as if to come after him, and he glared, letting his wolf show through his eyes. Asaph sank back into his seat. “Don’t forget to give Penny a decent tip,” he said. “With all of the networking you do I’m sure you can afford it.”
Back straight, head high, strut your stuff. Thank the Fates there’s a cab right outside the door.
Chapter Ten
“How did it go?” Bronson greeted Asaph with a huge grin as Asaph let himself into his house. “Well, where is he? Surely, you didn’t decide to play the gentleman. I know it’s your first date, but wolves don’t go in for niceties. I’m surprised you got through a meal without claiming him. What happened?”
“I didn’t do anything,” Asaph said, still dazed – a situation he’d been in since Ronan first walked into the restaurant. He crossed the living room and poured himself half a tumbler of scotch, tossing it back. Then he refilled it and slumped in the nearest chair.
“What do you mean? I take it he showed up? Waters said he would.”
“Yeah, he came just after your last text. He looked… stunning… amazing. He was incredible.”
“So,” Brons
on prompted, dropping into the chair next to his.
“We ordered a meal, talked, and then…then…he left.”
“Asaph,” Bronson leaned over, and Asaph felt a hand on his arm. “You guys are mates. You have an instant attraction to each other. It’s built in. Nothing can fuck that up. What did you talk about?”
“Work mostly. I told him about the Santagato merger going through, how the company’s building a new casino in Las Vegas, things like that.”
“I know about you, Asaph; you tell me about shit like that all the time. What about him? What did you learn about your mate?”
Asaph frowned, his mind running over the evening. He’d been so embarrassed about not even taking Ronan’s hand in greeting, when Ronan had prompted him about work, his sense of relief was overwhelming. Work was something he understood and could talk about for hours. Ronan seemed to be listening. He’d nod occasionally and smile; but as Asaph thought about it, his mate really didn’t say anything. Until the end. Asaph’s heart clenched as remembered Ronan’s forlorn face.
“I fucked up. I was so stunned by…by…him, when he gave me the opening to talk about my work; I took it and ran with it,” he said at last, knowing he couldn’t lie to his best friend. “I fucked up and Waters said I wouldn’t get a third chance. I’m fucking doomed to go feral and there’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Nothing can be that bad, surely. What did he say that made you reject him again?”
“I didn’t reject him, he walked out on me.” Asaph’s wolf whined long and low in his head, and Asaph rubbed it, trying to get his animal to stop. All of the anger he’d originally felt was gone, which was a relief; but the pain, the gut-wrenching pain that hit his heart and followed through to his stomach as he watched that proud and wonderful man walk out of his life; he knew he’d still be feeling that until his dying breath.
“He asked what I did for fun. I told him about the social stuff we do. He said, he said that he hoped I didn’t mind going alone sometimes because he works three nights a week.” Asaph broke off, he had a feeling he was close to tears but it was hard to tell because he’d never cried about anyone or anything before. It wasn’t the Alpha way.
“That’s not a problem. You don’t have to have a date for every function. I’m sure you can schedule them around his work.”
“I told him I didn’t think it would be a good idea for him to come with me at all.”
“You fucking idiot.”
“I know it was a dumb thing to say, but it was like I was in a fog the whole evening. I just wanted to jump him, hump him and claim him and to hell with who saw us together. But I knew I couldn’t. I knew he deserved more than that. But after those stupid words flew out of my mouth he went quiet. Then he Googled me, he fucking Googled me right there at the table, and there’re all these pictures with all of my ex-girlfriends covering his screen and he knew, he knew why I said the stupid things I said. So he left.” Asaph drained his scotch and twirled the empty glass. Bronson got up and grabbed the bottle, half filling his glass again.
“I’m so fucking furious with you Asaph, I could spit. I never thought I’d say those words, but right now I’m supremely pissed off.” Bronson’s deceptively calm words came out of nowhere. The two men sat in silence for at least ten minutes. Ten minutes for Asaph to relive over and over again the most colossal fuck up he’d made in the history of mating. By the time Asaph had registered what Bronson had said, his friend was already talking again.
“You were granted a Fated Mate, something every shifter dreams of from the moment they know about the concept. You yourself said how uncanny it would be to meet the one person the Fates deemed perfect for you. And you, for all of your money, your business acumen, your status in the community – you’re alone. You’ve always been alone. Ronan was your chance to have someone by your side who’d love you simply for who you are as a man, not a fucking business machine.”
Asaph opened his mouth to object. He could have a different date any night of the week, and he had Bronson and Beatrice in his life. But Bronson knew him too well.
“Your dates looked good on your arm – like a watch or a fancy pair of shoes. They were accessories for you, nothing more. You never had a connection with any of them and that’s why they never lasted longer than six months. You know it, and don’t fucking fight me on this. Sure, you and I are friends, but fuck, why do you think I spend so much time going to new places, meeting new people, experiencing new things? Because I want to meet my mate. I want what you’ve been given and honestly, if I could smell that special scent, could feel that rage and overwhelming possessiveness, know that there was one person who’d have me walking around with blue balls all day until we could be in each other’s arms again, I wouldn’t care if that person was man, woman or anything in between.”
“I have a position to maintain in the community.” Asaph wanted to be angry but he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t weak. He’d never been weak from as far back as he could remember. He’d built his corporation working twenty-hour days, travelling all over the country and then later expanding overseas. He’d done it all, been everywhere and was now seen as a respected member of the Orlando business community; a community that had only ever seen him in social situations with women. He wasn’t sure how the people he associated with would take to a man on his arm, especially one that thought wearing six-inch heels was acceptable attire for a dinner date.
“Maybe you should quit business altogether and start a pack,” Bronson said out of the blue.
“Why would I do that?” Asaph didn’t think he could be shocked again, but he was. “I started this business so I’d have something to call my own and I wouldn’t need to deal with the shit an Alpha has to go through in a pack situation. I face challenges in the boardroom, I negotiate deals every day, but if I fail no one dies. No one dies.”
“Asaph, it wasn’t your dad’s fault. The guy was rogue. No one expected him to attack the pack house itself. That was cowardly and wrong, and yes your mom and brother died in the attack, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault except the man that did the killing.”
“I’ve built my life in the human world. I’m respected here and at least here I don’t have to see the people I care about killed in front of my eyes because of some fucking territory dispute.”
“You can still have that respect with Ronan on your arm.” Bronson looked so sad, and Asaph was hit with another attack of the guilts. If he’d kept his wolf under control, then Bronson would have been on that dinner date with Ronan, not him. Bronson wouldn’t have fucked up. His wolf snarling in his head had Asaph shutting down that line of thinking. Yeah, he didn’t believe himself either. He wanted Ronan more than he’d wanted his first company.
“He’s a minor celebrity, gorgeous, and he has strength and charisma. You’re an Alpha wolf. Sure, you operate in the human world, but you don’t have to take on their foibles and freaking prejudices. Orlando is gay friendly, and if you go overseas, or to other places, so what? Have you any doubts your wolf wouldn’t protect you and the man you’re supposed to fall in love with?
“The business world isn’t like the people you mix with. It’s full of old-school…oh fuck it. You’re right.” Asaph was sick of arguing with himself. Everything Bronson said was true. In hindsight Asaph wished he’d gotten Ronan talking about himself; wished he’d taken the hand that was offered and never let go. But as he hadn’t come up with a way of building a time machine yet, he was going to have to resort to something else. He looked at Bronson, his eyebrow raised. “Any ideas on how I fix this fuck up, seeing as I don’t have Ronan’s address, and I’m not allowed back at the club.”
“Actually, I do. It’s time to tweak your image. Pull out your checkbook my friend, because you’re going to need it.”
Chapter Eleven
“Have you heard there’s a new club opening up across town and they’re looking for dancers.” Jeff came running into Ronan’s dressing room and stopped suddenly. “Dude, what’s with the
flowers?”
Ronan pulled his head out of the arrangement he was trying to stuff into a vase that was ten rose stems too small. “Apologies from a lousy dinner companion,” he said abruptly. He had no wish to talk to anyone about Asaph-the-Arrogant. Thank the Fates he hadn’t told anyone he was even going on a date. At least he didn’t have to share the autopsy afterwards with his friends.
“Thought you didn’t date. Who’s this guy? Did he hurt you?” Jeff said suspiciously, his eyes taking in the twenty-odd vases of flowers crammed in a tiny room. Ronan didn’t have the heart to throw them out. Every bunch was beautiful and unique in its own way. “That’s a hell of a lot of flowers for simply being a lousy conversationalist.”
“He didn’t hurt me, he didn’t even insult me. He was just uber-boring and I left before dessert,” Ronan said quickly. “Now, what’s this about a new club? I thought you were happy here.”
“I am,” Jeff said, and then his eyes narrowed. “Of course, we’ve barely seen you these last five days and don’t think we won’t talk about that later. You’re never sick. But yes, Angel’s closing this place. His husband’s not well and needs a mountain climate or something. The building’s been sold to developers.”
Ronan barely managed to get the vase full of flowers on the shelf, before he sank to the floor. He didn’t know Angel had a husband, let alone one with health problems. And closing the club? As much as Ronan felt sorry for his boss, his first thoughts were what am I going to do now?
“Ro, it’s going to be okay. Angel said we’ll all get a payout that will tide us over a good three months. Apparently the developer paid more than the place was worth for the building and land, and he plans to….”
