Page 33 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

"I get it. You want to play big girl business owner a little longer." His voice drops to a silky whisper. "Tick tock, Ruby. Two weeks. Don't come begging when you're homeless."

The door shuts behind him with a final-sounding click. I grab a bottle of bourbon—the good stuff—and pour a double with trembling hands. "Fucking asshole," I mutter, downing it in one smooth gulp.

I glance upward, where Eve's old photo watches over the bar. She's laughing in it, holding up her first brewery award. "Did you really have to put me in this situation?"

Ash wraps me in a bear hug, his Beta woodsy scent comforting. "I am so fucking proud of you for finally telling that creep to fuck off."

A slightly hysterical laugh bubbles up. "So long overdue."

"Well, wherever you've been since yesterday has changed you. I like this version of you. And I have news that's going to make you even happier. We got a call for a party booking in our function room."

Something in his tone makes me pause. "Okay…"

"For tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow?" My voice shoots up. "As in just over twenty-four hours from now? That's insane, Ash. We can't possibly?—"

"Party of thirty." He's got that look, the one that says he's saving the best for last. "Corporate Christmas gig. Their original venue flooded or something."

I run a hand through my hair, mind already spinning through logistics. "That's so tight. The prep alone?—"

"They'll pay triple our going rate."

My mouth might have fallen open. "Triple? You're sure?"

"Cross my heart." His grin is infectious. "Said they're desperate and money's no object."

The possibilities start racing through my mind. That kind of money could help with the bar's mortgage.

"It's very short notice," I say slowly. "But Lily and Hannah can handle the baked goods – they always have extra holiday stuff this time of year. We've got plenty of decorations already up. Drinks we're well-stocked on after today's delivery."

"And I'll handle everything." Ash straightens to his full height, chest puffed out like a proud rooster. "You work the main bar, I'll run the event. Trust me, Boss – this is what I live for. Give me a crowd and some Christmas music, and I'm in my element."

"You sure you can manage alone?"

He actually looks offended. "Please. I was born for this. Besides, what's our motto?"

Despite everything, I smile. "Never turn down good money when it walks through the door." Another of Aunt Eve's lessons.

"Exactly." He's already heading toward the office. "I'll call them back and lock it in. This is going to be epic, Ruby. Things are finally looking up!"

I watch him go, his enthusiasm contagious. Maybe he's right. Maybe the universe is finally cutting me a break.

Then I look down at the number scrawled on my palm, Knox's messy handwriting slightly smudged but still readable. The ink's slightly smudged from nervous sweat but still readable. Why should I let Marcus win? Why should I let Mom's trauma become mine?

Yet my mom's voice echoes in my head. "They'll destroy you, baby. That's what Alphas do. They find your weak spots and exploit them."

But what if my weakness is being too afraid to accept help? Two weeks isn't long enough to save the bar on my own. And here I am with two incredibly successful Alphas showing interest in me. Is it so wrong to explore those connections? My gut churns at the thought of using either of them that way, but survival instincts are hard to ignore.

I wipe angry tears from my eyes and pull out my phone. I message Knox.

Let's meet at 8pm the day after tomorrow.

His response is immediate as my phone beeps.

I'll swing by and pick you up.

Something in my stomach bursts with excitement at seeing him again.

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