Page 39 of Room 810

“Certainly seems like we’ve found our middle ground.” Just as the plane lifted off the runway, the world tilting to a 45-degree angle, Gabe leaned in and kissed me. “I love you so much, omega mine.”

“And I love you, my alpha.”

Epilogue

The Staff

MonsieurHolland’sofficedooropened, and Eva Ward, the city mayor, strolled out. She was the picture of poise, her dark hair pulled back in a sleek ponytail, her suit tailored to accentuate her narrow waist and slim build. “A pleasure doing business, as always,” she said, flashing her shark’s grin, before turning and walking out. As Emerson emerged from his office, however, it was more than obvious to Roland, by the sickly pallor of his skin and the tightness of his boss’s jaw, that it had been anything but a pleasure. His ice-blue eyes seemed more frigid than usual, his fists clenched by his sides.

He seemed to sense Roland’s eyes on him and turned to look. When he caught his gaze, he melted a fraction. Roland opened his mouth to say something—anything that might make things better—but Emerson beat him to it. “It’s fine,” he said firmly, walking over but keeping the desk frustratingly between them, while all Roland wanted to do was reach out and comfort him. “Everything is perfectly fine… We just need a tiny bit of luck—and a whole lot of money,” he muttered at the end.

As if in answer to his plea, the front door opened, and Sawyer jogged through the lobby, looking down at his phone. His eyes were bright with excitement, and Roland scowled. He couldn’t help his reaction; the hotel’s PR rep really rubbed him the wrong way. “Gabriel Barclay just texted me. He will be here any minute! Please tell me everything is ready. No flooded rooms or kitchen fires? Bug infestations? Are we fully staffed?”

Roland just barely resisted rolling his eyes. “Of course we’re ready.” Sawyer had only been hounding them nonstop for the past week about this visit. Gods, this damn guy was really getting on his nerves. Maybe it was just how endlessly optimistic he was, or how nothing seemed to get under his skin.

Or maybe it was all those private meetings he had with Monsieur Holland…

“This is it, this is our last chance to make it big,” Sawyer gushed, slipping his phone into his pocket and rubbing his hands together in gleeful anticipation.

What he wasn’t saying was that it was their last chance to repair the damage. It had been a very long slew of bad luck for The Scarlet Hotel, and while Roland didn’t know the details of their financial situation, it didn’t take a genius to see they were in trouble. Word traveled fast, but a bad reputation moved faster than the speed of light.

Sawyer glanced at Emerson, taking in the pinched expression, and he gripped him by the shoulder, squeezing. “Hey, don’t sweat it. I’m sure everything will work out.”

Roland’s eyes zeroed in on that point of contact between the two men, and it sent a stabbing pain through his chest, and the regret he felt was bitter on his tongue. He angled his eyes away, and Mr. Holland cleared his throat sharply. When Roland glanced back up, he met his boss’s intent gaze. Emerson had stepped aside, creating space between him and Sawyer. Emerson’s eyes were pinched at the corners, but it wasn’t from stress this time. He seemed to be trying to convey a message, one of loyalty and devotion. Roland had no claim on the alpha, but he couldn’t deny the relief he felt. There was something between them, and even if nothing ever came of it, for as long as they both worked in each other’s spheres, the connection, however tense, remained strong.

“Here he comes!” Sawyer hissed, straightening his tie.

Sure enough, Roland looked toward the plate-glass windows and saw the clean-cut figure of Gabriel Barclay headed along the sidewalk toward the front door, not a hair out of place. But… he wasn’t alone this time. There was an omega at his side, clinging to his arm, and it looked from here like he was chattering away nonstop, a ball of enthusiasm. He couldn’t have looked any more different than the man at his side. His hair was on the long side, blond and tangled, his shirt untucked from his wrinkled pants, and whereas his companion was stoic and serious, this man’s face was an array of emotions, all of them positive, plain as day for anyone to read.

The doorman saw them coming and held the door open for them, greeting them with a smile and a tip of his hat. The omega on Mr. Barclay’s arm paused to exchange a few words, and then the pair swept through the lobby.

Roland couldn’t help noticing that something was obviously different about the blogger. He was still prim and proper as ever, but his shoulders seemed less rigid, like he had finally dislodged that stick up his ass. Surely, that was a good sign, right? He even almost smiled when he saw Sawyer standing by the check-in desk.

Sawyer clapped Mr. Barclay on the back, dragging him in for an awkward hug. “Gabe! Great to see you again! I knew you’d change your mind.” His attention shifted to the man at his side. “And is this your husband?”

“Yes. This is Toby.” Regardless of how tightly wound Mr. Barclay was, there was no mistaking the affection he felt for his husband as he introduced them. “Toby, this is my old friend Sawyer.” The two omegas gave each other massive grins and hugged like they were long-lost family instead of meeting for the first time. The show of affection seemed to soften the alpha further, and Roland might’ve been mistaken, but he could’ve sworn Gabriel had tipped his head down to hide his smile.

Sawyer beamed at them and clapped his hands together. “You guys won’t believe the weekend we have planned for you. Right, Em?”

Em? Did he just call Monsieur HollandEm?!A cold dread slithered through Roland’s body. Didn’t that confirm that there was indeed something going on between them?I missed my chance, he berated himself.I didn’t make a move, and now it’s too late. He could hear his pulse thudding in his ears and had to grip the edge of the desk to keep upright. The conversation continued as though his world weren’t imploding.

“Yes, of course,” Emerson said. “In celebration of your recent nuptials, we’ve upgraded you to the honeymoon suite.”

“Ooh, goody! Thank you!” Toby squealed, bouncing on his toes. “Is there champagne? Please tell me there’s champagne.”

Emerson chuckled and nodded. “It was meant to be a surprise, but yes, there is a bottle on ice waiting for you upstairs.”

“I’ll be sure to act surprised then,” Toby said with a wink.

Roland knew all about the romantic weekend they had planned for the blogger and his husband, because he’d been the one to plan it. The whole time as he was drawing up a schedule that involved couples’ spa treatments and a candlelit dinner on the rooftop overlooking the city, he’d been imagining the kind of weekend getaway he would have with Emerson—if they were a couple, of course. Which they weren’t.

Sawyer was saying, “I’m sorry you didn’t bring your daughter. I’m excited to meet her.”

Toby rolled his eyes. “Trust me, Gabe would’ve loved to bring her along, but I insisted on a little alone time, if you catch my drift. Do you have kids, Sawyer?”

A little bit of sadness seeped into his eyes, but he masked it well. “No, not yet. My husband and I have been trying for a while, but it doesn’t seem to be in the cards for us.”

Toby reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry. I hope it’ll happen for you one day soon. In the meanwhile, you can come and get some baby time whenever you want. Our island is always open.”

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