Page 30 of Heat Island
“An omega needs wedding dates, you said?”
“Gorgeous, right?” Matheo responds and I practically hear the smirk in his voice. “She’s also smart, sweet, and smells good enough to eat. A week with her in the tropics is the easiest money you’ll ever make.”
My fingers twitch with the urge to trace the small smile I see on her face. “How’d you meet her?”
“She reached out to my mother’s agency…”
“And Amara reached out to you,” I finish, unsurprised. “I smell a rat. Mommy is angling to get her baby boy to settle down.”
“Yeah, well, maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
That stops me short. Enough of a distraction that I almost miss a sound cue. “You’re serious about this chick? Like, this isn’t just a fun gigolo thing because you’re bored in retirement?”
“Maybe.” Matheo sighs with a sound of frustration. “It doesn’t matter. I’m asking for your help and I’ll offer up whatever you want in return. Are you in or not?”
I’m not the nice guy. Matheo is probably the only person left in my life who still thinks of me as someone to call on for help. He knows I’m not selfless, but somehow I’ve managed to convince him that he can count on me when it really matters.
I’d love to truly be that person, even if I know I’m not actually capable of it.
I save the photo to my phone before turning my attention back to the stage.
Blake is finally ready for his big swing. The director calls action, and Spider-Man launches into the air—only to slip halfway through, dangling upside down with his mask sliding off.
“Goddammit, Blake!” the director shouts.
I press the cartoon slide whistle button. The sound echoes through the theater, followed by a splat. The entire crew freezes, then erupts in suppressed laughter.
The director whips around toward the sound booth. “CARTWRIGHT!”
“When do you need me?” I ask Matheo, already reaching for my bag.
“Tonight. Check your inbox. I’ve already bought you a plane ticket.”
“I’ll be there.” I disconnect as the director storms toward the sound booth.
Some jobs aren’t worth keeping. And some offers are too good to pass up—especially when they come with the bonus of annoying Cash Matthews for an entire week.
TEN
TRINITY
“I’m getting married!”Josie squeals as she rips open the passenger door of my car. “Now come help me with my bags.”
I grab my to-go latte out of the cupholder and take a healthy swig before unbuckling my seatbelt. “That is way too much energy for five o’clock in the morning, but I’m still very happy for you.”
“Just come help so we don’t miss our flight, grumpy.”
I struggle with the fifth suitcase, trying to wedge it into my already overstuffed trunk. “Jeez, Josie. Did you pack your entire apartment? Some strong alphas would come in handy right about now.” The bag refuses to fit, so I readjust the other luggage with a grunt before giving up and shoving it in the back seat. “Remind me again why your fiancés aren’t coming early to help with all this wedding prep?”
Josie checks her reflection in my car window, fluffing her blonde waves. “They’re very busy, Trin. They could only take so many days off between the wedding and honeymoon.” She taps a perfectly manicured nail againsther lip. “Besides, someone has to stay and make money while we play in paradise.”
I bite back a sarcastic response and shove harder at the stubborn suitcase. “Right. Very considerate of them to let you handle all the stress of final preparations alone.”
“They’re not letting me handle anything alone. That’s why you’re coming with me.” Josie beams, completely missing my point. “And they’re paying for everything to make up for it. The resort, the flowers, the catering, rooms for the whole family—all of it. I can’t begrudge them not being made with extra time.”
“Money isn’t everything.” The suitcase finally slides into place with an aggressive push. I slam the trunk shut and wipe my hands on my jeans. “Though that is a significant contribution.”
I hope she doesn’t hear the note of bitterness in my voice, remembering how they once promised me the world, too.
