Page 29 of His Gift
“I remember that week,” I said, nodding. “You really needed a vacation.”
“Yeah, well, I got one,” Walt went on. “My heat snuck up on me, they don’t have Bangers & Mash down there, and I’d been flirting with a hot alpha at the hotel swimming pool bar.”
I did not want to know more about who my little brother flirted with or how far he took things when he was on vacation.
“We were getting cozy when my heat struck,” Walt continued. “That short-circuited my brain, and when the alpha offered to take my heat, I was in no position to say no.” He paused, and I had the feeling he was remembering the moment. “It was actually pretty great,” he went on after a bit. Again, I didn’t want to know a damn thing about my brother’s heats. “But after day one, my heat suddenly ended. We both knew what that meant. The alpha scrambled to get out of there so fast he burned a trail in the carpet.” Walt paused before admitting gloomily, “I didn’t even get his name.”
My soft heart ached for him. My alpha growled with indignation. Taking an omega’s heat, getting them pregnant, then running out on the responsibility was the lowest of the low, as far as I was concerned.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, wishing I could give Walt a hug.
“Yeah, well, Dad isn’t going to see it that way,” Walt said. “Just watch. He’s going to hit the roof and call me every sort of vile name in the book. He’ll say this is why omegas shouldn’thave any part of the business world, and then he’ll fire me. And Papa will probably scrape the bottom of the barrel to find an alpha who will take a spoiled omega for me to marry.”
I didn’t even know where to begin to argue against all that. Partially because he wasn’t making any of that up out of the blue.
“I’ll speak up for you,” I said, feeling impotent in advance.
“You?” Walt huffed, though he didn’t have his usual edge. “You’re the one who stands to benefit from all this. You’re the perfect child. And now you have a perfect boyfriend, too.”
Another wave of frustration hit me. I didn’t have a boyfriend. I don’t know what I’d been thinking when I said Enzo was mine. I mean, I wanted him to be mine. I wanted to know so much more about him and be someone important to him. The little I had learned about his life had me deeply concerned for him. He was in a bad position. Admitting he didn’t have any money was one thing, but when his father had made an appearance at the diner, my alpha had freaked out with possessiveness. Enzo’s dad was bad news.
Why hadn’t Enzo called me in five days? Was he okay? Had something happened? Why hadn’t I thought to get his number, too?
“See?” Walt said. “You’re speechless. I can only imagine what you think of me.”
“I think you’re my brother and that you need my help,” I said.
“I don’t need anyone’s help,” Walt grumbled. “I know full well I’m on my own here. I’ll do whatever it takes to give my baby the best life I can, and I don’t need you lot strutting around, lording it over me, and thinking you’re better than me.”
“That’s not what?—”
Walt ended the call before I could set him straight on how I felt about things. I yanked my phone away from my head and wanted to throw it across the room in frustration at the glittery reindeer statue Trudy had put on the shelf across fromme. It was way too early for Christmas decorations, but more importantly, why did Walt have to be so difficult?
And where was Enzo? I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was in trouble and that he needed me. The conversation we’d had at the diner haunted me. He was far more intelligent than he let on. His insights about the Christmas Eve supper were spot-on. I was already making changes based on the things he’d said.
It wasn’t just about the Christmas Eve supper. I needed Enzo. One night with him and I’d realized how cold and stuffy my life had been. Enzo had brought fire and understanding to my life. He’d let me do things I hadn’t even dared to dream about. I wanted more of that…but I also just wanted to hold him and breathe in his scent and feel like I wasn’t alone in this sometimes-cruel world.
I huffed out a breath and stood from my desk, decision already made. I would go back to Norwalk and look for him. The woman at the diner clearly knew him and his dad. She would probably know where he lived and worked. I would go find Enzo and tell him?—
My phone rang with the distinct tone I had programmed for my father. The sound made me sit back down again heavily, wariness filling my gut as I reached for my phone.
“Hi, Dad,” I answered the call.
“Shawn,” Dad greeted me. “What’s all this about changing the Christmas Eve supper? It’s not a job fair, it’s a meal.”
Now was not a time when I wanted to explain how I was acting on the information Enzo had given me, but Dad wanted the things he wanted when he wanted them and not later.
“A friend of mine, Enzo, who I would like to hire for my team, actually, brought up some really good points to me the other day about what working-class people really need,” I said like I was beginning a presentation at a board meeting.
Dad wasn’t interested in listening. “We already have a format for the supper. A format that works. It’s worked for nearly a decade. The families we’ve invited have already submitted their wish lists to the sponsors we’ve lined up.”
“And that part can still go forward,” I said, imagining how Enzo’s face would look if he were listening in on the conversation. “But it was brought to my attention that one day of charity, while nice, doesn’t last as long as helping someone get a new job or improve their skills so they can improve their lives.”
“It they wanted their lives to be improved, they would take it upon themselves to gain those skills and get those jobs,” Dad said, like he was brushing the idea off. “Those sorts of people only respond to handouts.”
There were so many things wrong with Dad’s mean statement that I didn’t know where to start.
“Enzo says?—”
