Page 2 of His Gift
It had been more than ages. For some reason that escaped me, Walt had been avoiding me for almost two months now.He’d been working from home and hadn’t come to any of the family dinners Dad had planned. I was beginning to worry about him, but mostly because I knew how touchy Walt could be and how deep his resentment of me had gotten since Dad had started sending out updates about our company’s divisions to the shareholders. Walt claimed they were designed to make me look good and him look like the scapegoat.
“I have too much to do to sit down for a leisurely lunch,” Walt finally said. “Unlikesomeone, I have to work my ass off just to get a neutral mention in Dad’s newsletters.”
I tried not to roll my eyes as I pulled into the parking lot of the unassuming building that held the offices of the Dark Fantasies Club. It seemed like no matter what I tried, Walt was determined to hate and resent me.
“Okay,” I said, failing to hide my sigh. “Whatever you want. Look, I have a meeting right now,” I added, pulling into a parking space, “but can we talk later? Like, for real? I’m worried about you.”
“Sure you are,” Walt snorted. I heard the vulnerability in his voice, though. “Have fun at whatever massage or manicure you’re probably actually getting.”
“It’s not that,” I said as patiently as I could. “I’m meeting with some people about my personal charitable?—”
The call ended. My charming omega brother had hung up on me.
I sighed and cut my engine, leaning back against the leather seat of my sedan for a second and rubbing my forehead with one hand. The worst part of Walt’s attitude toward me was that I couldn’t even blame him. He was justified, to a certain degree, in thinking Dad treated us unfairly. He was right when he said he had to work three times as hard as me just to get half the attention and praise. I wanted to help him, to make peace withhim, but his pain ran too deep. He was like a feral kitten who hissed whenever you reached out to help him.
There was nothing I could do in the moment. I shook my head and got out of my car. Maybe I slammed the door a little too hard and stomped toward the entrance of the Dark Fantasies Club with a little too much frustration, but I couldn’t help it. Family was the absolute worst sometimes.
“Mr. Wythe. Good to see you,” the bright, pretty beta and long-time receptionist for the DFC greeted me with a smile when I entered the calm and tastefully decorated lobby.
“Good morning, Denny.” I tried to smile and look benign, really, I did, but I must have had my family issues written all over my face.
“Uh oh,” Denny said. “Having a bad day?”
Coming from anyone else in any other office, I would have been affronted by the bold way a receptionist asked me about my feelings. But there was something about the DFC that demanded openness, and Denny really was a personable guy. It was a shame he wasn’t an omega, because on paper, he was everything an alpha might want in a mate. It wasn’t his fault that he didn’t have a uterus or heats.
“Family stuff,” I said, rubbing a hand over my face and letting my emotions show, which was not at all like me. “You know.”
“I definitely know,” Denny said, swiveling in his chair then standing. “My own family is something between a battleground and a comedy show most of the time. My parents hate the fact that I work here, for example, and that I’m a client, too.” He batted his eyelashes teasingly at me and raked my body with a hungry, and also comical, look.
I actually laughed. “Well, I’m not a client,” I said, not minding Denny’s flirting at all. “I’m just here on business.”
“That’s what they all say,” Denny said with a wink before we reached an open office door at the end of the central hallway.“Mr. Wythe is here to see you,” he announced to the men inside the office.
I was on cordial terms with Caden Kuhl and Hamish Farrow, even though I wasn’t a member of the Dark Fantasies Club. We’d met at a conference about charitable giving and hit it off. I admired the intensive anti-trafficking work they did, and when it came time to donating my personal wealth to a worthy cause, I’d chosen to work with them.
“Shawn, good morning,” Caden said, standing from the double desk he and Hamish shared on one side of the room and walking over to meet me. “Thanks, Denny,” he nodded to Denny before taking my hand.
The chime that indicated someone entering the office sounded, and with a quick, “Oop, I’m needed elsewhere,” Denny left the room.
“Sorry about him,” Caden said with a laugh, moving to close the office door once he’d shaken my hand. “Denny can be colorful sometimes.”
“He’s a sweetheart,” I said, brushing the whole thing off as Hamish came over to shake my hand as well.
“He’s a lot more than that,” Hamish said with a sly smirk and a twinkle in his eyes.
I laughed as the three of us moved to the comfy seating area at the other end of the office from the desk. I’d had my suspicions about the unusual relationship between Caden and Hamish in the past—alpha-alpha couples were looked down on by some people, but I didn’t care—and now I added Denny to that unusual relationship. I guess it took all kinds to make a world.
“Can I get you anything?” Caden asked as we all took seats. “Coffee? Tea? I think we’ve got donuts in the breakroom today, thanks to Denny.”
“They’re homemade, and let’s just say the way he did the decorations is…interesting,” Hamish added.
I laughed again, but shook my head. “I’m good.”
Those two little words wrecked my mood all over again. I was good. I was always good. I was Daddy’s good boy, and not even in a way Caden, Hamish, and Denny would think was hot. It was why Walt hated me and why nothing I did seemed to actually be good enough for anything.
“I was hoping to get an idea of what the Dark Fantasies Club’s needs are this year in terms of donations,” I said, getting straight to business. “I’m eager to hear more about the rehab clinic you’re proposing to open in Turnersville.”
“We’re really excited about its potential,” Hamish said, then launched into a more detailed explanation of the new facility he and Caden were planning.
