Page 111 of Lost
A tall man in a suit and his hair back in a man bun that suits him perfectly arrives at our table, and his lips twitch under his facial hair.
“I heard we have a hungry omega and a growling alpha,” he teases. “I didn’t think you’d come out this far, Lars. The fact that you’re on a date is even more surprising.”
Lars puts his menu down instead of sacrificing his hold on my hand to shake the alpha’s hand with a nod.
“Ambrose, this is Nova,” he says.
“The little lost omega who no longer is,” Ambrose breathes. Looking behind him, he scouts the restaurant. “Should be fine tonight too. She doesn’t really look like Hollis to me.”
I glance up at him as Lars releases his hand and Ambrose’ deep, dark eyes gaze back.
“I take that back,” he mutters. “Fuck me.”
“You know Hollis?” I ask, waiting for the shock to wear off.
“Your sister is superwoman,” he says. “I met one of my omegas through her dating service. Hollis had my pack fill out this intense form with everything about ourselves. We met him on our first date, and it just so happened that he was our scent match. He was perfect for us, fit in our pack well, and never blinked at the fact that we were enforcers.”
“He sounds really special,” I say, smiling. “I love hearing growly alphas get sappy when they talk about their omegas.”
Ambrose snorts. “Most people are scared shitless by me.”
“They’re not me,” I shrug. “I grew up around Roberto Domino and his men. Maybe it’s silly, but mafia families are my favorite ones to work with.”
“I heard about Domino from Shaw,” Ambrose growls. “He’s my alpha. I’m sorry that piece of shit was allowed anywhere near you.”
“Thank you,” I say.
“Now, I really need to get your order in. I told the server that I’d handle your table for her. What would you like?”
Lars and I place our order, and Ambrose says he’ll make sure that my food reflects my food allergy.
“Corbin and I wanted to make sure that we could feed anyone who has allergies, so we put the entire staff through a course to understand what they entail,” he explains. “Everyone is on thesame page, and I have a chef that knows how to cook gluten free pasta and gnocchi. Do you want an appetizer while you wait?”
“That’s probably a good idea,” I agree. “I’m starving. What do you recommend?”
“Our antipasto is really good, as is our arancini,” he says. “We have a dedicated gluten free fryer and gluten free bread. You’d be amazed at how many people come in with gluten free needs.”
“God, this is like the best date ever already,” I smile. “I haven’t always been gluten free, but I really miss bread.”
“I’ll make it happen,” Ambrose promises, taking the menus. “For what it’s worth, I’m always very happy when we get our missing people back. It means that evil didn’t win.”
He walks away quickly, and Lars taps on my hand.
“I don’t think he’s ever said that many words to someone he didn’t know very well,” Lars says. “Look at you befriending grumpy mafia men.”
“I think I remind him of someone,” I say, turning to him.
“Pack Mohan has two omegas,” he explains. “Wren is their other omega.”
“I swear I know this,” I say, shaking my head. “She runs Omega’s Haven with Aisling, right?”
“She does.”
“I’m playing with a really crazy idea, and I don’t know if it makes much sense or not,” I say. “Hollis gave it to me. I told her I didn’t know if I could make it happen, but now…”
“Aisling and Wren were babies when they founded Omega’s Haven,” Lars muses. “Aisling worked for me for a few years at the coffee shop when she was a kid. Life wasn’t kind to her in the least. I worried every day that she was going to become a statistic. She and Wren weren’t even legal adults when they decided to help other omegas because of the life they had. There’s a lot of support in this community for growing nonprofits.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “Everyone’s home life is so different, and sometimes a home birth isn’t the right choice for some because they don’t have a quiet space. They either live with other people, in a shelter, or an unsafe environment. Hollis suggested that I open a nonprofit birth center with staff.”
