Page 30 of Ghost of a Chance
“It was Mr. Pennington who acted inappropriately—all that yelling and carrying on over your mate,” Jasmine said as she dished up one large and one smaller portion of pie. “Mates are supposed to be celebrated.”
“I’m still sorry you had to hear any of that.”
Jasmine moved the box out of the way on the table and flicked her hand at the door. “You know I’m always friendly and respectful to anyone who comes into this office, and they are the same to me. But I’ve come across people like Mr. Pennington outside of the office. It’s my opinion that some people just like to yell so they can hear themselves speak.”
She giggled again as she pushed the larger portion plate in Lionel’s direction and grabbed a seat on the other side of the desk. “I suspect the yellers are probably going deaf or somethinglike that. Or maybe they can’t hear themselves because they’ve got so much poop between their ears.”
Lionel chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Anyway, let’s enjoy this pie. It does smell delicious.” He took out his phone and snapped a picture of it before typing a message. “My personal assistant made me a pie to celebrate our mating. Isn’t that sweet?” before sending it to Brad.
“Brad’s going to wish he was here,” he said, putting his phone away and picking up his knife and fork. “He’s currently renovating Morty’s bakery building, but Morty doesn’t make pie like this.”
“And he never will,” Jasmine said with another giggle. “My grandmother would hammer my pots into plates if I ever shared her recipes.”
“Then I feel doubly honored.” Lionel took a mouthful and nodded as his eyes widened. “Oh, this is good and truly appreciated. Thank you for helping make this day so much better.”
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By the time Lionel felt he could leave for home for the night, it was closer to five thirty than his typical four. Extra paperwork meant clients had questions, and one of the reasons Lionel was good at his job was that he always took the time to patiently explain clauses, interpret legalese, and help put his clients at ease.
There were also calls from a couple of lawyers he worked with regularly, wanting to chat to Lionel about why he was changing his sources of funding. While they were likely checking in to make sure there was nothing going on with Lionel’s business that might impact their own, the congratulations on his mating and positive support made him feel a lot better.
Jasmine reported more than a few inquiries for mortgage finance had come through—some of them for larger than usualamounts—and Lionel asked her to send them a standard “Thank you, and I’ll get back to you within a few days” reply. While mortgage finance was usually time-sensitive, Lionel wasn’t going to take on new clients until he had time to do his due diligence, and his existing clients’ need for reassurance came first.
Brad had messaged him a couple of times throughout the day, and at one point sent a video that panned up a freshly tiled wall, before flicking to Brad, who was covered in dust, and something gray was smeared on his cheek. The overlaid caption read, “No one ever said this was a glamorous job, but it’s a good one when something works out.” Lionel had sent him huge congratulations, and then, because he felt like it, he included the heart emoji. Brad was his mate. It seemed like a nice thing to do.
Parking in his driveway, Lionel looked across to his front porch, frowning when he noticed a package.I haven’t ordered anything.Securing his car, Lionel approached the porch slowly, trying to work out what the parcel was. It was in a big basket with the top half covered in cellophane, secured with a large purple bow.
Has someone sent me flowers? Was it Brad?
As Lionel got closer, he could see it was a gift basket that was made out to be like a floral arrangement, but it wasn’t flowers he’d been sent. It was chocolates that were made to look like a flower arrangement. Bending over, Lionel picked it up and checked for a card. Sure enough, it was from Brad.Hope this sweetens your day.At the end of the message was a winky face emoji.
Filled with a warm feeling he couldn’t describe, Lionel let himself into the house, taking care not to drop the gift basket. Walking into the kitchen, he put the unexpected gift on the kitchen counter so he could take off the cellophane. Inhaling the deep smell of chocolate that emerged, Lionel was reminded ofhis first night with his mate and the éclairs. The chocolatey smell was very similar.
My mate does seem to have a bit of a kink for chocolate,he thought as he took the “bouquet” into the bedroom and left it on the bedside table. He was looking forward to going out, to actually going on a date with Brad, yet, they had to come home at some point. He winked at the bouquet.Best to have you here where you’re likely to be appreciated.
After having a quick shower, Lionel dithered over what to wear. Brad hadn’t said where they were going, only that he’d made a booking for them for seven. Deciding to go with “smart casual,” Lionel pulled on a comfortable pair of gray pants and then topped them with a pale pink polo shirt. He took a matching gray suit jacket into the living room, throwing it over the back of his armchair in preparation for Brad’s arrival.
Sitting in his armchair, he pulled out his phone. He had told Brad that he would text Mom, and he would. He’d only put it off because he wasn’t sure what to say. Lionel had never doubted that Mom loved him. She just had a very hands-off approach when it came to child raising, which in hindsight was common back in the sixties and seventies. Especially in a male-dominated pride.
Lionel chuckled. Mom was definitely a product of the hippie movement. Understanding that didn’t take away the hurt she’d caused, but Lionel would always defend Mom to others, even if she didn’t support him in return. He always supported her choices.
Last he’d heard, she was still looking for her fated mate.I wonder what she’ll think when she hears I’ve found mine?
Being mated was the most important thing any paranormal could hope for. Focusing on that, Lionel brought up their message thread. She hadn’t been in touch for four months. Thatwas totally normal for Mom. She was not a fan of phones. Inhaling sharply, Lionel typed.
Hi Mom, I hope you’re having fun. I have found and claimed my fated mate, Brad. He’s the most adorable teacup poodle shifter you could ever hope to meet, who works in construction. I’m sure we’ll be very happy together. Pennington found out and banished me from the pride, so I won’t be able to see you next time you’re home. But know that I’m happy and I have a mate now. I hope you’re safe and well and that you find your own mate too one day. Love, Lionel.
He hit send, watching as first one little bubble came up underneath to show he’d sent it, and then a second little circle came up indicating that the message had been received. He waited a moment more, wondering if the bubble color would change, indicating she’d read it, but after a few moments, the bubbles remained clear.
At least I know it’s on her phone.With no idea of where she was or what time zone she was in, Lionel reasoned she could be asleep as he slipped his phone back in his pocket.
Flicking on the television, he waited. Brad would arrive in fifteen minutes, and they were going on a date.I’m ready for that fun night with my mate.That was worth smiling about.
Chapter Eighteen
Brad
Brad could sense the difference in Lionel as they were escorted to the table in the busy restaurant. Laughter, murmured conversations, and the sound of clinking cutlery came with the scent of delicious food.
