Alex knew, as soon as he saw Jenny, that he was going back. It wasn’t that he wasn’t happy to see her. He and Jenny were good, they were buddies, but after a day like today? If things were good, if she didn’t have bad news she wanted to deliver in person, she’d leave him the hell alone.

He caught Buddy’s eye and jerked his head toward the empty bar stool to his right. Most Fridays, there wouldn’t be an empty bar stool in Shank Hall. Tonight was soggy and chilly, so there just happened to be an empty space. It was lucky for him and lucky for Jenny. Maybe not so lucky for Buddy, but everyone knew Buddy wasn’t dependent on his income from the bar anyway.

Jenny settled into her seat with a grateful smile for Buddy, just as Buddy slipped an Old Fashioned in front of her. She frowned down at it, blinking. “Am I really that predictable?”

“Little bit.” Buddy winked at her and deposited a cocktail glass in front of Alex. He wrapped his hand around it and smiled over at Buddy, who was still talking to Jenny. “It’s more than just knowing the Old Fashioned is your favorite cocktail, though. I know what kind of day Alex is having. And I know you work with him. And I know the look on your face.” He tapped his gray temple. “I may not have done the college thing, but let me tell you, I’m a pretty smart guy, huh?”

Alex grinned. “You always were, Buddy. You always were.” He sipped from his drink. It was basically a martini, but made with tequila. Buddy always knew exactly what Alex needed.

“Hah! You recognize that now.” Buddy waved a finger at him. “You didn’t listen when I told you to stay away from that no-good rich kid, did you?”

Alex looked up at the ceiling. “Everyone is stupid and bad at listening when they’re sixteen, Buddy. I’m willing to bet if we looked deep enough into your background we’d find some spectacularly bad decisions back when you were still learning how to shave.”

Buddy thought about it. “Okay, you’re not actually wrong. But that’s beside the point.” He turned to Jenny. “How have you come to enhance his day?”

Jenny grimaced and took a gulp from her drink. “You make it sound like I’m doing it on purpose.”

Buddy pressed his hands against his chest. “Hey. We’re all working people here. There’s no hard feelings about you doing what you’ve got to do. We get it. But we do want to know exactly what it is, you know what I’m saying?”

Alex found his muscles unbundling, even though he knew whatever Jenny had to say must be bad. Buddy was the best. He never stopped looking out for him, and he probably never would.

Jenny sighed and put her drink down. “Well, it’s not something you want to hear. The client, Mr. Delaney, wants you to come back. He’s going to void his contract if you don’t come back, actually.” Jenny tugged at her collar.

“So you told him to go screw himself, right?” Buddy poured himself a shot and tossed it back. A customer farther down the bar called him over, and he had to leave.

Alex sipped from his drink. “Why?” he asked, after a moment’s thought.

“I didn’t ask.” She paused, and Alex didn’t need to be some kind of rocket scientist to know the question she was going to ask. “Alex, is he someone you’ve been intimate with?”

Alex drank from his glass again, deeper this time. No one needed to know this dusty old history. Alex didn’t need to be ashamed of it, either. “We were engaged, actually. But that was a long time ago. Why?” He could say it now without having to close his eyes, without having to fight against memories he’d rather not have. People who said it was better to have loved and lost had no idea what they were talking about.

“Because he referred to you as his.” She looked away, just for a second. “His omega. Alex, I told him I’d talk to you. I didn’t make any promises, and I told him I’d charge him through the nose. And of course you’d be getting paid more for any work you do for him. I have to say, though, I’m super uncomfortable with this. I was uncomfortable with it as soon as I found out you knew each other, and then when he referred to you as his, just like that.” She snapped her fingers. “I don’t like this situation for you.”

Alex knew his laugh was bitter, but he couldn’t hold it in. “Huh. So now I’m his, but ten years ago he broke off our engagement to go marry some twerp because I couldn’t be good enough to be his. He can bite me.” Alex gulped down another mouthful of his drink. “But let me guess. The company needs me to say yes.”

“They wouldn’t force you into a position where you were subjected to harassment, but they really want this client.” She made a face. “Yeah, you’re a hot commodity, but a client like this ditching us after one visit isn’t going to look good.”

“Yeah, no. It really wouldn’t.” Alex closed his eyes now. This was the problem with working for someone else. It would always be the problem with working for someone else. At the end of the day, he didn’t matter. He wouldn’t ever matter. “Fine. But he stays out of the kitchen.”

“That’s already been made clear to him, several times.” Jenny curled her lip. “I don’t get the impression he listens to anyone but himself, but I showed him where it was in the contract.”

“And I’m not alone with him at any time, at all.”

Jenny didn’t hesitate. “Done.” She hung her head and looked down into her glass. “Sometimes this part of the job sucks.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” He lifted his glass in a kind of toast to her. She clinked glasses with him, and they finished their drinks together. They had a couple more, not as manager and worker but as friends, before calling it a night.

Alex tried not to think about his least favorite client for the rest of the week. He liked most of his clients well enough, and the private chef gig gave him weekends off or paid him a lot of extra money to cater private parties. He didn’t want to jump back into the restaurant business. He didn’t want to go back to that kind of grind, even if it meant he’d never have to see Sol Delaney ever again.

Ten years later, he shouldn’t still be bitter, but here he was. He shouldn’t resent that poor kid, because Carsten-not-Carson had nothing to do with Alex and Sol’s relationship. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a huge part of Alex screaming at him about how evil it was, and how unfair that Sol had given some other omega the beautiful and sweet child he’d promised Alex.

But maybe everything happened for a reason. At eighteen, Alex had been young and eager to start on family life, never having had it before. At twenty-eight, Alex realized that if he’d been dumb enough to think Sol was ever going to marry him, he was probably too naive to raise a kid. At eighteen, Alex had been eager to have someone else take him in hand, hold him up, be his hero.

At twenty-eight, Alex knew the only hero he’d ever have was himself. Sure, other people had helped him out along the way. They’d been his friends, his colleagues, and even his mentors. But the only person he could ever really trust to have his best interests at heart was himself, and that wasn’t going to change.

Friday, the dreaded day, came along. He saw his first two clients and got through their meals without any trouble beyond an increasingly large pit growing in the middle of his stomach.

Then he headed up to the huge and ostentatious kitchen, in the huge and ostentatious condo at the top of the ugly glass hat on the beautiful old building, and let himself in.

Jenny was there, thank God. “Since we’re not going to be leaving you alone here,” she said, setting her jaw, “I figured I’d stick around to ensure compliance.” Her eyes sparkled, like cut onyx.

Alex nudged her shoulder with his own as he got to work. “You’re the best.”

He lost himself in the rhythm soon enough. Now that he knew the client’s identity, he found himself wondering even more about the choices behind the menu. He could understand why a guy in his thirties, in a sedentary occupation, would want to eat healthier. Forcing a kid to eat like that, though? Kids needed more fat than that. Honestly, would it kill him to allow a little more joy in the kid’s menu?

If Carsten were his kid, he would at least know what a chocolate chip cookie was. Hell, even Alex’s dad managed to give them little pleasures like that, and Alex’s dad had been a monster of a man.

Alex finished up with his preparations just as a short blonde woman came running into the kitchen. “Er, you must be Mr. Cary?” She had a vaguely Nordic accent.

Alex turned to her. “That’s me.” He remembered to smile and to put down the paring knife in his hand before shaking hers. “I’m Alex. Are you Ms. Sigurdsson?”

“Yes! That’s me. I’m Carsten’s nanny. Mr. Delaney asked me to come in and let you know he’s ready for dinner and expects you to dine with us.”

Alex scoffed. “Sorry. Not happening. But I won’t ask you to pass that along.” He grimaced and glanced at the closed swinging door. “I don’t want you to get into any trouble.”

Jenny offered her hand to Inge. “I’m Jenny Sloane. We met on Wednesday. I’ll explain things to Mr. Delaney. Again,” she added, straightening her back. She marched out into the dining room.

Inge shifted and turned to Alex. “So. Everything looks delicious.”

“Thanks. I hope you liked what you had last week.” Alex hated making small talk. He just wasn’t any good at it.

“It was very good, thank you. I’m a vegetarian, so some things I couldn’t eat, but the things I could were very good.”

Alex almost dropped the pot he was emptying into a container. “You’re a—oh my God, why didn’t he say something? God damn it!”

“What do you mean?” She covered her mouth. “I’m sorry, I upset you.”

“No, you didn’t. If I’d known there was a vegetarian on site, I would have made meals for you too.” He glared at the door. “You shouldn’t just have to eat side dishes.”

“Oh.” Inge dropped her voice. “I’m not sure he knows. We didn’t talk about my dietary habits when he hired me.”

“Oh.” Alex tried to think of something appropriate to say here. He’d never been involved with hiring a nanny. What were the standard hiring procedures? Were dietary practices a normal part of the interview process or no? “So, how do you get a job as a nanny for a guy like him anyway?”

Inge chuckled. “Oh, I went through an agency, the same as you. But it was very important to Mr. Delaney that I be available to give Carsten as much stability and support as possible. The divorce was hard on the poor boy, of course.”

So Sol had divorced whichever rich omega he’d dumped Alex for. Or maybe the omega had dumped Sol. It served him right. “It would be. And kids definitely need stability. I may not know much about kids, but I do know that.”

Inge nodded earnestly. A raised voice from the dining room made both of them wince, and she continued. “Mr. Delaney strives to give Carsten the best. His safety is of paramount importance, of course. That’s one of the reasons this home was so appealing to him. His father encouraged us to move to Greenwich, which is in Connecticut, but Mr. Delaney refused. He wanted the greater security of a city building.”

“I can understand that, I guess. If you want security, you can’t be out in the country like that.” Alex shuddered. “I mean who knows who’s out there, lurking in the bushes or whatever. It’s just creepy.”

Inge laughed. “You would probably hate my country. We have huge areas that are mostly forest.”

“I’ll just stay out of those areas then.” Alex held up his hands to ward off the forest. “I’m sure it’s all very nice and all that, but it’s just not someplace I need to be.” So Sol was worried about security, hm? Well, it wasn’t any business of Alex’s. He didn’t want any harm to come to anyone, not even Sol, but he didn’t need to get involved with Sol’s drama. “So, are you settling in okay around here?”

“Yes, I think so. Carsten is a little shy, and he’s having some trouble making friends at his new school.” She looked down, like it was somehow a personal failing on her part that Carsten was having this difficulty.

“It’s always hard being the new kid. Trust me. I was in foster care from the time I was eight. It’s not the same thing, but I got very used to being the new kid.” Alex smirked. “Hopefully, he’ll start to find some good, open-minded kids soon, and he won’t have to change schools again. He honestly seems like a pretty sweet kid—”

The door swung open. Alex half expected Sol to come storming in again, but this time it was Carsten. The poor boy was in tears. “They keep arguing,” he sobbed, as he flung himself into Inge’s arms.

Christ. Poor Jenny had to argue on his behalf, and now this poor kid was traumatized by it. He refused to feel bad for sticking to his guns, but he hated the fact that Carsten had to watch. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Carsten,” he said. “Here, do you want to help garnish tonight’s dinner? You’ve got a roast chicken breast, because I didn’t know your friend Inge here is a vegetarian. But trust me, next week we’re going to make sure Inge has something to eat too.”

Carsten’s eyes lit up. “Promise?”

“I promise.” Alex held out his hand for Carsten to shake.

Carsten high-fived him instead. “Can I help make it?”

Alex winced. “There are rules about kids in kitchens, buddy. But you know what? Everyone should know how to do a few basic things. You never do know when you’re going to need it. I can show you a thing or two, okay? But you don’t get to touch anything hot or sharp.”

Carsten beamed. “I won’t. I’ll be super good. I promise.”

“I bet you will, Carsten.” For a moment, just for a second, Alex let himself think about what might have been.

Then Sol stormed into the kitchen behind his son. “Carsten!” he bellowed. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here.”

“Mr. Cary says he’s going to help me make something for Inge next week. So you can shout at people all you want, and we can be in here where it’s warm and safe.” Carsten smiled at his dad, like he’d just come up with the solution of the century.

Alex actually felt bad for Sol when he saw the stricken look on his old lover’s face. But he didn’t reach for him or call him back when Sol spun on his heel and left the room. Some things just needed to happen.

The sight of Alex in his kitchen, crouching down to speak with his son and reassure him, did things to Sol that he knew would get him slapped if not arrested. He wanted to wrap his arms around Alex and beg for forgiveness. He wanted to slam his lips down on Alex’s and remind him of everything they’d had. He wanted to claim Alex all over again, and again and again.

He wanted to sob because he’d been weak enough to listen to his father and that naturally meant all of those avenues were closed to him forever.

So he turned on his heel and fled the kitchen, his son’s sweet chastisement, and Jennifer Sloane’s not so sweet judgement about his invitation to Alex. For Christ’s sake, all he’d done had been to invite Alex to dinner. Okay, he could have been more inviting about it, and less demanding, but still.

He changed his clothes into something more formal and fled the condo, just as fast as his feet would carry him. He stopped running once he got out onto pavement, because senior executives at major record labels didn’t run in New York City unless they wanted to attract attention. He did stride with purpose toward the Hellion Club, though.

It was early yet. The Hellion Club didn’t technically close, but different crowds showed up different times. Most of the faces Sol saw now were older, more weathered executive types escaping from family and responsibility or possibly just their own mortality. Sol saw the president of a major bank teasing the bartender’s nipples. A senior diplomat from a country that didn’t officially have alpha or omega citizens had two scantily-clad omega entertainers by his side, one on each arm, while he chatted with an American politician.

Sol ignored them all. He just wanted peace. He reached behind the bar. He’d already figured out where the whiskey was kept. He poured himself a glass, left the bored-looking omega a generous tip—he should get something for putting up with the banker’s advances, after all—and retreated past the entertainment rooms to the library.

Sol didn’t know of any place quite like the library. There were plenty of long stacks of books, with study carrels at the end of each. Someone who wanted privacy could certainly find it. Any student at any Ivy League institution in the country would adore its beautiful intimacy.

Unless they were majoring in erotic literature, however, they would find the books lining the walls fairly useless.

Sol rarely sought refuge here. As a general rule, he wasn’t a bookish kind of guy. Today, the presence of crowds like he’d seen out there just reminded him of everything he didn’t want to be. Sol wanted to be entertained, sure. He wanted to be distracted. He didn’t want to turn into his father.

Maybe it was the thought of his father, even as a warning, that summoned the old man into his space. Maybe it was just the right time of day. And maybe, just maybe, the universe hated Sol enough for breaking off his engagement that it just wanted Sol’s day to suck a little bit more.

Whatever the reason, Sol had no sooner found a comfortable seat than Alden Delaney stood before him. “I can hardly believe you’ve been in New York for a week and a half and you haven’t bothered to so much as send me a text.”

Sol rolled his eyes. Father wasn’t looking to connect out of some weird kind of family nostalgia. He didn’t have those kinds of feelings. “Good evening, Father. What brings you by?” He strove to keep his voice pleasant. There was no reason to start things off as a fight, after all.

“I happened to notice you storming through the front room, and I thought I’d say hello, since you haven’t brought my grandson up to Greenwich to visit.” Alden sniffed. “Why exactly is that, again?”

“He’s uncomfortable with old people right now.” The lie slipped from Sol’s tongue as easily as a morning greeting. “There was a thing, back in California. You know how kids are.” Sol had no idea if his father knew the first thing about child psychology. He didn’t care, either. “I didn’t know you were expected in the city today.”

“I had some business with that awful developer.” He waved his hand. “I’m staying in the hotel. I thought I might as well unwind before I headed back to Connecticut. Your stepfather’s been a little tense lately. It’s good to get away.”

Sol did the translation in his head. Your stepfather is getting to be too old to keep my interests anymore, possibly wanting children of his own. He’ll be out the door soon. “I’m sure. How’s the house?”

“It’s good. I’ve got a room ready for Carsten, for when he’s ready.”

Sol forced a little smile. “We’ve gotten him settled at school. He’s at Dalton. Don’t ask me how I pulled that one off because you don’t want to know.”

Alden wrinkled his nose. “Why bother with something like Dalton when you’ll just be sending him off to boarding school soon enough?”

Sol held up a hand. “Father, that’s enough. Carsten isn’t going to boarding school. We have plenty of perfectly fine schools here in New York, we don’t need to go shipping him off to Hell and beyond and cutting him off from his family. He’ll be at Dalton where he’s local and safe. That’s final.”

“If it’s about the money, son, you know I’ll pay for it.” Alden’s tone was mild, but something blazed in his eyes. He never had liked being challenged.

For a moment, Sol considered dragging his father on back to the Ring. Once upon a time, when it was believed being an alpha somehow required one to be more violent, the Hellion Club had encouraged its members to take up boxing and thus to “tame” their “manly urges.” Disputes were settled in the ring. Now they had a better understanding of science, of course, and members were encouraged to take up boxing for their own health.

Disputes still got settled back there sometimes, though, and Sol would give anything right now to drag Alden back there and have at it.

He didn’t, though. For one thing, Alden was a seventy-year-old man. For another, seventy wasn’t dead.

Instead, Sol just sighed. “It’s not about the money. It’s about keeping him safe. It’s all about Carsten now, Father. He has to be the priority, because none of this is his fault.”

“None of this is Stuart’s fault either.” Father sat down in one of the other chairs. “He truly does want to make amends and come back to you.”

“Mmm-hmm. It’s good to want things in life, I suppose. It keeps one hungry, and striving.”

“He’s your husband.” Father’s voice dropped in tone, and took on some gravel. It was probably supposed to sound menacing.

“He was my husband. I wasn’t taking my son out of California without dry ink on those divorce papers. And I do have full custody.” He met his father’s eyes. “When I showed the court that Stuart shot the dog full of heroin they were more than happy to give me full custody.”

“Oh come off it, Sol. It’s not like Stuart had anything to do with the boy anyway.” Alden snarled and leaned toward Sol. “Just take your husband back like you know you should, and we can forget any of this ever happened.”

“Father, I should never have married Stuart in the first place. I didn’t love him. I didn’t even like him. We’ll forget about the fact that I was already engaged to someone else. Given that I never wanted to be with Stuart, and he’s an actual danger to my son, I’d be an absolute fool to re-marry him.” He affected a calm position, but in fact his palms were slick with sweat. Was his father going to strike him? Maybe he should have stayed in a more populated area.

“Are you still going on about that skinny little tramp from the Bronx?” Alden curled his lip. “Do you think it would have gone any differently with him? He was probably using when you knew him, and he’s probably using now. He would have absolutely been using you for my money. He never loved you. They don’t, you know.”

“Alex was willing to walk off a job rather than have to see my face again. I’d say he certainly felt something for me.” Sol gritted his teeth. “It certainly isn’t love now, but it probably was then.”

Alden waved a hand. “Get over yourself, Sol. Omegas don’t love. They’re not capable of it. All that they’re capable of is greed. And I wasn’t about to let you succumb to his greed when he wasn’t going to bring anything to the table at all. If he’d actually cared for you, he’d have been willing to stay with you as part of an arrangement.”

Sol had thought much the same thing at the time, but now he wasn’t so sure. “I’m sure it must be very appealing, to see the man you were supposed to marry go off and marry someone else.”

“His expectations were too high. Honestly, he wouldn’t have passed muster to be one of the bartenders or dancers here. He didn’t have enough class. An arrangement with a Delaney would have been more than he should have had any right to expect, and he turned up his nose at it. But none of that is here or there. The fact is, you’re taking your husband back.”

“Three times. Three times I stood by him through rehab. And everything he did when rehab failed, and he used the drugs as an excuse for doing whatever the hell he wanted to do anyway. I’m not taking him back. That’s the end of it.”

“Then I’ll have no choice but to cut you off.” Alden drew himself up to his full height.

Sol flopped dramatically back into his seat. “Oh no! Whatever shall I do?” He glowered at his father. “I made my own money. You can cut me off if you want, but I don’t actually care. You were able to control who I wound up with once, and I ended up with a drug-addled jackass. Never again.” Sol frowned and sat up straight again. “You know, I have to wonder why Mr. Married Eight Times is suddenly so interested in me reconciling with an omega. It’s not like you think he loves me, and you know I couldn’t give less of a crap about him. So what is it? What’s got you so invested in this marriage?”

“I just don’t want to see you going down a wrong path.” Alden drew himself back, hunching in just a little bit.

“Uh-huh. And what exactly do you get from his family if I say yes?”

Alden sprang to his feet. “I don’t have to take this garbage.”

“You approached me.”

“Mark my words. Stuart is your rightful husband, Solomon. And you’re going to take him back, one way or another. Or else you’ll regret it, for the rest of your life.” Alden left, almost running from the library.

Sol contemplated his whiskey, and then he drained it. His father’s words disturbed him past the point where he could force himself to read, but he wasn’t ready to go home and face the agitation Alex brought. He walked out into the entertainment room at a more measured pace this time.

The shirtless bartender had been freed from the banker’s attentions. He was a handsome man, maybe twenty years old with long dark hair and a smile to die for. He grinned when he saw Sol. “Let me mix you a drink. You shouldn’t have had to pour yourself one of your own.”

The bartender mixed up a Scofflaw, a delightful cocktail that tasted like it might have come from the days when their refuge had been built. Sol relaxed into the drink and into the bartender’s attention.

Yes, he wanted Alex. Alex wasn’t here, and unless things changed much more than he thought them capable of, Alex wasn’t going to be a factor. The bartender wasn’t someone he’d be with forever, or even for more than a few hours, but he was exactly what Sol needed right now.

The bartender let someone know he would be stepping away, and someone else popped in to take his place. The omegas who worked here were kind of interchangeable parts in that sense. Thankfully, the bartender was even able to reserve them a room from his point-of-sale station, and they traipsed off to their assignation together.

Sol treated him gently. He didn’t mark him up or get rough with him. That wasn’t why he was here. He just wanted to be distracted, and to laugh a little. The bartender was more than willing to provide that. He blew Sol until his brains seemed to come out of his ears, and Sol returned the favor with abandon.

The bartender couldn’t stay all night, but he did kiss Sol before leaving. “That was fun,” he said, in a shy voice. “I’m glad we did it.” He left the room with a little smile, his shower-damp hair swinging as he left.

Sol slept at the hotel, creeping out the next morning as the sun climbed over the skyscrapers. Carsten was asleep when Sol got in, but he woke up not long after and came bouncing into the living room.

“Daddy! Mr. Alex said he was going to let me cook something for Inge because she’s a vegetarian and that’s why she hasn’t been eating everything on her plate and he was really upset that we didn’t tell him but now he knows and I can make food for her and that’s good isn’t it because now she won’t be hungry and she takes care of me so I should take care of her right Daddy, right?”

Sol rubbed at his chest, trying to soothe the pang that the mention of Alex had caused. “Do you think you could maybe draw some breath there, sport?” he asked. “I think I maybe picked up on ‘vegetarian,’ ‘Mr. Alex,’ and ‘hungry.’” He scratched his head. Had Alex gone vegetarian in the past ten years? That seemed out of character.

Carsten drew a deep breath, ready to launch into another run-on sentence, but Sol held up a hand. “One idea at a time, buddy. Daddy’s slow before coffee.”

“So make some coffee!” Carsten brightened. “If you married Mr. Alex and made him my dad, he could make the coffee and you wouldn’t have to.”

Sol bowed his head and looked away. “I’m not going to marry Mr. Alex, Carsten. And if I did, we’d have to hire someone else to make the coffee.”

“Oh.” Carsten bit down on his lip as he tried to puzzle that one out. “But I like him. He’s nice.”

“He probably is nice to you. But he and I—well, we knew each other a long time ago, and we don’t get along. But don’t you worry, I’m going to do my best to keep him around for you, okay?”

Carsten hugged Sol. Maybe Sol couldn’t have the one he wanted, but he had the most amazing son in the world. It was enough for him.