Page 4 of Heat Hesitation

From up here on the thirtieth floor, you can see the river running through downtown. Six bridges imbue the city with impressive architecture, connecting everything; Arrow Cove is huge, rivaling New York in population while managing a small-town feel. The only area of the city that's a little more removed and not visible from our office is the south side—South Loop, to the locals—accessible through the sixth bridge. It's underprivileged and underfunded, and we do what we can, pairing with the OFA for charity events and the like to help support them, though I can't say I've spent any time there.

The Bradfords are new to Arrow Cove, their pack settling in the High Hills neighborhood. We've seen them at restaurants and other networking events. Both in the tech industry, we run in the same circles, and even though we're purchasing their company, it's a fair deal, so it's no surprise when they ask us to lunch once all our business concludes.

One glance around the room tells me my brothers don't care much either way. Enzo will likely work through lunch, never looking up from his phone. Theo will charm the servers, and Asher will brood. Judging by Asher's clean albeit disheveled appearance—tie askew, bags under his eyes—I should probably send him home.

Instead, I accept the invitation, and we all walk together to a restaurant only a block from our building. This place usually requires a reservation, but we dine often enough that even with the extra guests, we'll be seated quickly.

When the Bradfords previously mentioned their daughter, I politely declined, telling them our pack was currently taking a break from finding an omega—the public became aware of the incident on the bridge, with sensational headlines about Asher Constantine attempting to rescue a wayward omega and the tragic loss of such a valued member of our society, even if no one knew who the girl was or what happened to her. We never shared the specific details and potential scent-match of said omega; instead, we asked for privacy and space from further speculation.

So I'd assumed the Bradfords let the topic go, but holding the restaurant door open for Bowen, we're mid-conversation when the ripe, unbonded scent of an omega hits me. A young blonde woman with red-painted lips smiles brightly beside her mother, and we're introduced to Imogen Bradford, who will apparently be joining us for lunch this afternoon.

My steps nearly falter, but I catch myself and shift in front of Asher's line of sight.

"Bowen, I thought I made it clear we weren't interested in your match-making." I'm irritated; the words are more of a growl through gritted teeth. Fortunately, Imogen and her mother are already several steps ahead, led by the host toward our table.

Bowen claps me on the shoulder like we're old pals. He may have fifteen or so years on me, but I don't appreciate the casual familiarity. Should have declined lunch, I sigh inwardly.

"Don't worry, my boy. My wife and Imogen were in the area shopping. This isn't a set-up. We simply mentioned we were getting lunch and they should join us since they were so close by."

I don't believe him for a second, but plaster a fake smile on regardless as I approach the table. Mrs. Bradford sits next to Imogen, with Bowen and Jeffrey taking places by their wife, leaving an empty seat beside Imogen.

Christ, what a pain in the ass. I take the seat beside her to avoid further confrontation. Enzo and Theo take their seats, but Asher pauses, glaring at the poor girl as soon as he notices her. Her sweet smile falters like she's done something wrong.

She's the perfect image of an omega. Her eyes downcast in submission, lips trembling with worry that she's upset him. Asher's woodsy scent takes a bitter edge, and we can all tell how pissed he is.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He shouts, fisting his hands at his sides, not caring that we're in a room full of high-society who love to gossip. The reflection of a phone screen catches my attention, and I turn to glare at an older woman at the table beside us who not-so-discreetly tries to catch us Constantines doing something headline-worthy.

When I bare my teeth, the woman wobbles and drops her phone in her lap, but it's likely too late. Whatever happens now will end up in the Arrow Cove Daily Rag.

"Asher, this isn't a setup," I assure him, even though I know it's a lie. It doesn't matter either way. The girl smells nice, but she's shaking like a leaf. Enzo would eat her alive, and that's even if Asher wasn't about to have a complete fucking meltdown.

Bowen tries to appease him, while the omegas scents grow sour in fear. None of us are surprised when Asher growls in rage, tells us all to go fuck ourselves and storms out of the restaurant. It takes a second for everyone to settle again.

Theo grins at Imogen, "Don't worry darling, that wasn't about you."

"He's angry I'm here. Maybe I should leave?" Her voice is hesitant and meek.

Bowen and Jeffrey are leaning heads toward one another in deep discussion, a ruse to make us think they aren't paying attention, hoping we'll connect, despite how Asher just acted.

"Don't even think about it. Otherwise, you'll leave me with these overgrown alphas. They'll talk of nothing but work, and I'll be bored to tears with no rescue in sight. Why don't you come sit next to me and we can chat, hmm?"

"Theo," I warn, but he ignores me. I should be grateful he's diffusing the situation.

Imogen hesitates but eventually gets up and settles into the chair between me and Theo, leaving an empty seat between me and her family, giving us the illusion of privacy. Phones throughout the room are snatching pictures of us looking cozy. Just great.

We order lunch and Imogen is a practiced debutante. She keeps her hands folded in her lap, smiles demurely, and giggles when appropriate at Theo's idiotic jokes. Though the girl is charming, Theo's leading her on. He's not even remotely interested in her, even if we were entertaining the idea of another omega. She's too… soft.

Enzo's not said a word, typing away on his phone, and no one pays him any mind. Imogen eats her green salad with a fork and a knife, taking small, perfectly formed bites.

It's all so trite I wish I'd stormed out with Asher. Which reminds me, "Enzo, can you text Ash, see if he's alright?" Enzo nods without looking up.

"I do hope he's okay; I didn't mean to cause a fuss."

"Theo's right, that wasn't about you." I pick up my wine glass, giving up the pretense of professionalism; the day has already gone to shit, so I polish it off, signaling to the server for another.

"I'm not sure I believe you. He took one look at me and…" Pink colors her cheeks in embarrassment.

"We're not looking for an omega right now, that's all. It's a long story." I don't know how long she's been in town or if she's heard some of the rumors circulating about us, but her next words confirm it.

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