Page 57 of Broken Wolf

“Food seriously has to be most of the paychecks of the supe division,” the SAiC muttered. “That’s why some of us get so annoyed they get paid less and still jump in to keep us safe. Those APOT vamps are always jumping in and immediately need food to fuel up and get paid crap.” He shook his head in disgust.

“They don’t care. They just want to not be hated and stop getting crap for being so old. Or talked down to so much when they are so old.” I left it at that and let them order as well. I kept my menu for what I would need to order to-go when it was time.

Once the server left, the SAiC filled in the attorney clerking—since he was already cleared by the ancients as clean—and I looked over what I was given. I realized after a few minutes that it left the judge to sit there with his thumb up his ass basically waiting for food.

“I apologize,” I muttered as I kept reviewing, not really sure what else to say.

“I asked to be involved knowing that I wouldn’t be getting my hands into much,” he said easily. “I did want to bring up that I’m on a two-week vacation the week after next. I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

Shit, I hadn’t known that. I stared blankly at what I’d been looking at and then pulled out my phone for my calendar. “Blessing. You can use that to push a few things around especially if any more evictions come up on your calendar for this trailer park. If they get put back on, that could tell us a lot.”

“Smart,” he praised. He left it at that a few minutes but then cleared his throat, waiting until I glanced up at him. “I didn’t tell my wife why, but I mentioned that I met you at the courthouse and she was right—as always—and you were—that I was wrong about you.”

My lips twitched. “Glad she’s a smart one. We always need that in our lives.”

“That we do,” he agreed, accepting the poke. “She wondered—she wanted—apparently, there is quite the waiting list for…” He cleared his throat again.

I sat back in my chair and chuckled, shocking him. “She wants you to use the connection you now have to me for something, and you’re so honorable you’ve never done that before. Wow, that’s—I’m the same.” I nodded when he seemed suspicious. “I recently forced a SAiC to be a witness that I wasn’t abusing my badge so crap didn’t hit me later.

“It wasn’t even outside of regs, but I felt like crap dragging him into my personal anything. Especially when he didn’t like me. It felt… Icky. It felt like something I shouldn’t do. But I’ve been asked to do the same, and it never bothered me to cover someone. So yeah, we’re a lot alike.” I smiled at him. “Ask. I won’t be upset. I also have no problem turning people down.”

He seemed to accept that and nodded before telling me that his eldest daughter had had some serious struggles with conceiving and carrying a pregnancy to term. It was a bit of an overshare before he even got to the IVF treatments and then the multiple miscarriages, but finally it seemed this pregnancy would have a happy ending.

She was eight months into it and the doctors were really hopeful. It was going to be their first grandchild, and after everything, his wife wanted to go all out, completely over the top with the baby shower. I listened to all of it as our appetizers and drinks were brought in.

Well, our drinks, but my appetizers really even if I was more than willing to share.

“I’m thrilled for your family, but I’m at a loss how this could involve me, Your Honor,” I admitted when he was winding down. I flinched when the SAiC chuckled, but the attorney looked as if I was a bit dense.

“If you had any clue what she juggles, you’d never—seriously, we all say constantly that her life is exhausting,” the SAiC defended.

Then it hit me and I sighed. “No, it’s more—people think I’m the gatekeeper of more than I am. You want something for the baby shower that I don’t actually have my hands in or—you want to have the baby shower at the club?”

“Oh, heavens no,” he whispered, looking like he was almost offended at the idea.

I raised an eyebrow at him. “We have a few really big chefs that people freak out over. Our dining area is rented out all of the time for baby showers and they don’t do the show or anything.”

He looked properly chastised and apologized. “I would never have thought of that. When you put it like that, I am silly.”

At least he apologized well.

And then he just blurted it out. He wanted help getting seafood and the waiting list was too long, plus since it was wedding season, the flowers were ridiculous and special orders had to be bigger.

I nodded as he spoke and pulled up the number I needed on my phone, holding up my hand to him when he went on. “I need your wife’s name and number. The reason my mind doesn’t go to this is because I don’t handle any of this.” I nodded when he seemed hesitant. “I don’t own the seafood farm. I simply loaned the money.

“It would take a while to explain pack protection and the symbiotic relationship between supes but yes, I can make this work because I’m Alpha. Simone’s bistro is no problem at all. I am part-owner in the greenhouses but again, I have managers. But yes, they will make the exception if I put in the call, but your wife will have to pick it up.

“That numbers thing is because delivery is with the order and—we’re stretched too thin because of the season. So give me her name and number, and I’ll hook her up with my life manager, Vinn, who will make it all work for her, but she still has to pay. Of course. But make it exceedingly clear that this is my personal—PA doesn’t cover it. Life manager. This number does not—”

“It’s not given out like the manager of your club or anything else, yes, of course, that makes perfect sense,” he agreed, clearly understanding. “I will make that abundantly clear to her.”

“Also—and I mean no disrespect, but you were a bit prickly to me when we met. Vinn has been through—she needs a gentle touch. She’s a very gifted woman but has had a rough go. I don’t allow my people to be roughed up, especially when others are asking favors from me.”

Again, he nodded, hearing the warning clearly. He promised that he was the prickly jerk of his family and his wife was a doll, a nervous mom mostly.

“Is your daughter still on her feet or is she on bed rest? Any complications or…” I accepted his phone with the information and texted it to Vinn saying I’d explain it to her later.

“No, she’s fine,” he hedged.

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