The evening had started out extremely productive. Within minutes of entering the room and grabbing a glass of champagne, one of my old friends approached me, Ethan Mollick of LifeFuel. LifeFuel was relatively new. They’d been seeing success in the US market for a few years now, and had just moved into Canada, and they were ready to make the jump across the ocean and explore sales routes in the Asian markets. We didn’t get into any serious details, but it was the first time Ethan had reached out about expanding like I’d pushed them to. Before the night was over, I’d definitely be sending Ethan an email request for a deeper meeting.

After Ethan and I parted, I floated around, reconnecting with some of the people I’d met last year at the event or at other galas. As business focused as I was, this, sadly, was the closest I often got to socializing. I wouldn’t go so far as to call any of these people friends, but they were the closest thing I had to it. I was still on my first glass of champagne, holding on to it more for show than alcohol, when I saw Miles. I couldn’t blame it on dulled senses or wishful thinking. My eyes followed him. He’d made a beeline for the bar. If it hadn’t been for the way he’d reacted to the older man who came up behind him, I would have left him alone. At least, I think I would have. But when Andrew Martin put his hand on Miles and the omega stiffened in response, I marched toward them without a thought, not realizing I’d abandoned my conversation partner until I was halfway across the floor.

Fucking Andrew Martin. I’d crossed swords with him when I first came to town looking for real estate, both for administrative offices and industrial space. The guy was a real slime ball. The places he’d shown me had looked okay at the outset, but I wasn’t a fool, and had a trusted team give each possibility a good going over, and there’d been something outrageously wrong with each of them. Faulty wiring. Mold. Sewage issues. And when I’d raised the problems as things that would need to be addressed before I’d considered them, he’d hemmed and hawed about boilerplate contracts and I dropped him right then and there and found a decent agent.

From everything I’d heard since then, that seemed to be his modus operandi, and I’d made no qualms about speaking up about his work ethic and shady practices. Last I’d heard, he’d expanded out from just real estate and he’d been up against some residential apartment class action law suit. I had no trouble picturing him as a shady slum lord. If it was true—and I tried to remind myself that I didn’t know the facts, and prejudice wasn’t enough to condemn someone on—it seemed very out of place for him to be at an Omega Rights fundraiser. It might be time for me to go digging into Andrew’s current situation, though. If he was somehow interested in or tied to Miles…

It was none of my damn business. But that didn’t mean I was going to let it go.

All that had sped through my mind by the time I reached them, words spilling out of my mouth unbidden as red haze tingled at the edge of my vision. Andrew had continued to push Miles, the omega’s body language getting more and more defensive.

“Spears,” Andrew sneered, but he backed up. As the distance between him and Miles grew, my fury calmed. “It seems a little uncouth to be so… traditional at an Omega Rights event.”

What the fuck had I said? I glanced to Miles to see if he was offended, but he was looking at me with a complicated expression, but overlaying everything was relief, so I held out my hand to Miles and pressed on. “If I have offended you in any way, I apologize.”

Miles took my hand without hesitation and stepped into my protection. My ears burned and my throat swelled as I tried to process that simple act of trust.

“I’ve allowed you such liberties,” Miles said. “Unlike others.” He cast a dark glare at Andrew.

Evan Miles’s cutting words couldn’t shut him up. With a simpering sneer, he attempted to lay a hand on Miles like a father giving advice, but Miles sidestepped him, bringing him even closer to me. “I hate to cast aspersions on anyone, especially in such a dignified setting, but you need to be careful what kind of company you keep, Miles. You never know when someone seemingly successful is on the verge of collapsing.”

The only thing that was collapsing right now was my patience. There was a triumphant swell of trumpets, and the dining room doors began to open. “Excuse us,” I said, forgoing any nod or bow of politeness, “but we must find our seats.” I tucked Miles’s hand into the crook of my elbow and we turned as one to the doors. I felt absolutely elated to have Miles by my side, but I couldn’t help but wonder exactly what was going on between them. And what in the world had I said when I first approached, before I’d reigned my emotions in?