Alex grabbed a couple of pint glasses and got a few drafts going. His back hurt, his knees hurt, and his feet hurt, but it was all okay. It wasn’t like he did the bar thing all that often these days, and he’d have plenty of time to get over it tomorrow. “Why exactly did Pauline and Jimmy call in again?” he teased as he eased his way past Buddy.

Buddy curled his lip. “I’ll tell you one thing, I know why they didn’t call in. It wasn’t because they were out there canoodling. That wasn’t why.” He scowled and glared at the door, then poured a dark pink liquid from his shaker into a cocktail glass. “There you go, Gina. One Beet Royale.”

Alex shuddered away from the drink. He was a cocktail guy, and he was a foodie. He even liked gin. He was not, however, about to mix his cocktails with his root vegetables. “How do you know they’re not out there canoodling?” He teased Buddy with a smirk as he delivered his beers to the two plumbers at the end of the bar. “People do canoodle, you know. It’s a thing.”

“Because they divorced six months ago. She caught him cheating.” Buddy rolled his eyes. “And if that wasn’t enough, when she called him on it, he knocked out four of her teeth.”

“Jesus Christ, Buddy!” Alex pocketed the tip money the plumbers pushed at him. He wanted to ask why Jimmy was still working there, but he knew Buddy wasn’t in a position to fire Jimmy. Not when Jimmy’s dad had put up half the money to buy this place.

“Right?” Buddy shook his head. “Honestly, if she wants to get out of Dodge, I’ll help her. Jimmy Senior, I like. I’ll do a lot for him, like he’s done a lot for me. But the son—he’s an animal. It’s a shame, but what can you do?” He picked up his bar rag.

“Geez, Buddy, aren’t you afraid he’ll come after you?” Gina sipped at her beet cocktail and stared at Buddy with wide eyes.

“Nah. He only gets aggressive with women, so I’m good.” Buddy smirked and checked his watch. “Oh, geez.” He rang the bell behind the bar. “All right, everyone. Last call.”

A few patrons scrambled up to the bar, desperate to squeeze that last minute bit of cheer and joy from the evening. Most just wanted to settle their tabs and head home. Twenty minutes later, the bar was empty, and Alex was mopping while Buddy counted out the till.

Buddy finished at about the same time as Alex, and he passed Alex a stack of bills and fixed them both martinis. “So. They dragged you back to that jerk’s place kicking and screaming, huh?” He tossed his head toward the back, and Alex turned off the lights. As far as anyone on the street was concerned, the bar was closed.

They headed back into Buddy’s office, where they sat down and put their aching feet up. “Yeah. Christ, what did I ever see in that guy? He basically ordered me to have dinner with him, his kid, and his nanny. You don’t hire help to make them sit around and have dinner with you. This isn’t some Disney flick.”

“Right?” Buddy held up his drink, and Alex clinked glasses with him. “Was he always like that, or has he gotten worse?”

Alex huffed out a little laugh. “I get to feel better about myself if I say he’s gotten worse, right? Then he’s definitely gotten worse.” He made a face and took a gulp from his martini. “Oh, yeah. The kid seems nice enough, but it’s weird. I have no idea what was going on in their house before, and I don’t care, but I feel bad for the kid. He reacts really strongly to people arguing or something. And the nanny kept talking about Carsten’s safety. Maybe the other dad’s a drug dealer or something.”

“Now that’s a problem we can solve.” Buddy waggled his eyebrows.

Alex shook his head. “I don’t mind helping the guys out here and there, Buddy. And yeah, I like Jim Senior well enough, but I’m not selling myself to the mob for a guy who broke off our engagement by email so he could go and marry some jackass drug runner out in Cali. I won’t let anything happen to the kid, but Sol can twist.”

Buddy grinned at him, cheeks red. “Nah, you’re a romantic, deep down. You wouldn’t let anything happen to that jackass either. Otherwise you’d have let us do something about him back then.”

Alex had to laugh. “Buddy, you’ve been hanging around these guys a little too long if you think there’s no difference between ‘not being willing to put out a hit on my ex’ ten years ago and letting the jackass take whatever he’s got coming to him now.” He slouched down into his chair. “And it should probably bother me that I can speak so casually about it.”

“Meh.” Buddy chuckled. “If it doesn’t bother you, then don’t let it bother you, you know?” He put his drink down and massaged his wrists. “I’m wondering if we shouldn’t do a welfare check on Pauline, though. I am worried about her.”

“Okay. First thing in the morning, I’ll head over. I don’t have a lot of space, but if she needs a place to lay low for a while, she can have it. I’m far enough off Jimmy’s radar that he won’t look for her there.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “I know some people who can get her out of town, no problem.”

“I know you do, kid. I know you do.” Buddy sighed and stared at a spot on the old brick wall. “I was talking to a guy the other day. I knew him when I used to work at the Hellion Club.”

Alex made a face. He’d never seen the appeal of that place, not for alphas born after 1900 and not for any omegas. Well, okay, it would always have some appeal for omegas who needed money, but that was about it. “Okay?”

“This guy is one of your clients now. You cook for him on Tuesdays, actually. His name’s Woodham.” Alex stared at him blankly, and Buddy sighed. “He’s balding, has a penchant for sherry, lives in one of those shiny new ‘green buildings’ over by Central Park.”

Alex only had two clients in a new green building over near Central Park. Only one of them was balding. “Oh, went vegan six months ago, dragged the rest of the family kicking and screaming with him?”

“That’s the one.” Buddy tapped the side of his nose. “Anyway, he’s an exec with one of those big TV production companies. I ran into him while I was jogging and believe it or not, he recognized me. Now obviously he was out with his husband so he wasn’t going to say anything, but he stopped in here for a drink later on.”

Alex had to laugh at that. These Hellion Club types, they never got the picture. “He probably thought he was doing you a favor, too.”

“You know, out of all those guys, he wasn’t so bad back in the day. He was a legacy, you know? Grew up in it. The real sleaze hadn’t set in yet. He treated me good, you know? Don’t get me wrong, there wasn’t ever any idea anything was going to happen. But he treated me nice, as far as that went.” Buddy looked down at his drink, and then drained it in one gulp. “You know how those things go.” He reached into his drawer and pulled out a bottle of bourbon, along with two glasses.

Alex nodded. He did know how these things went, and all too well. “So, he stopped in to visit.”

“He did. It wasn’t too bad to see him, you know? And he mentioned he wanted to put some new reality shows out there, which of course made me cringe. Then he said to me, ‘Not trash like those awful singing contests or wedding dress shows. No, I’m thinking some fun, light, informative shows that people can sit back and enjoy. Everything’s so serious right now, I think the market’s right for a reassuring face, someone people can enjoy without having to take sides over. They’ll teach about food, make things feel easy and comfortable, and put some positivity out there onto the airwaves.’”

“You should have tried to sell him on a mixology show.” Alex grinned and took a sip from his drink. “There are tons of shows out there about food. There aren’t a whole lot about mixology. And you’ve got the right face and everything for it. You’re not some young hipster looking guy, you’re not some old snob, you’re a normal neighborhood guy. But you’re still photogenic, you know?”

Buddy preened, just a little. “As it happens, I did bring up mixology. I’m not exactly a spring chicken anymore, you understand what I’m saying? I’m getting up there in years. And this job, it might not be quite what you do, but it’s physical.”

Alex finished his martini and took the bourbon Buddy offered him. “You know what? You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re on your feet long hours, just like we are. You’re not standing over a hot stove like we are, but you’re in the ice and all that. You’re lifting kegs. And you’re in the front of the house, while we’re only dealing directly with customers if something’s gone horribly wrong. It’s all physical, and it does wear you down.”

“I’m getting to the point where I wonder how much longer I can keep doing this. Anyway, I might have mentioned doing a show about food and booze.” Buddy stared back at that spot on the wall again. “I might have even come up with a name for it. Bronx Bar and Grill. I told him I had the perfect chef in mind for the food side of it. An omega, like me, but not stereotypical. Just a handsome, chill guy who knows his way around food—and a bar, when it comes right down to it.” He smiled, just a tiny bit, and lifted his glass to his lips. “Bronx Bar And Grill, Tuesdays at eight. It’s got kind of a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

Alex snickered. “Did you seriously pitch a TV show to a customer?”

“Yeah. I don’t know about seriously, but yeah. It’s a nice fantasy, Alex. There’s nothing wrong with dreaming.”

Alex frowned at that, but he hid it with his glass. He’d been a dreamer once, but that all went away with Sol. Now he was a planner, a goal-setter, and a TV show just wasn’t an achievable goal. What would be kinder, though? Would it be better to pop Buddy’s bubble now, or should he let it deflate on its own?

“Yeah, I guess we’ll see how it works out.” He took a gulp of the bourbon. Maybe if he drank enough of it, he’d start to dream again too. Christ, how long had it taken for Buddy’s dreams to die, only to come back now and like this? “In the meantime, what are you going to do about Jimmy and Pauline?”

Buddy winced. “I’ll have to come up with something. I can’t keep running you out there. Not that I’m not glad to have you doing it, but you’ve got a regular job with health insurance and crap. Let me see who I can scrape up. You see if you can find Pauline.”

They finished their drinks, made the deposit together, and headed to their respective homes. It took Alex a little while to fall asleep, even with the drinks in his system. Buddy’s gambit for a TV show smacked of desperation. He must be making decent money at the bar if he could afford to hand Alex five hundred bucks in a single night, right? Especially since everyone knew Buddy’s was a front for some shady crap.

Then again, who knew how much money he’d managed to save up over the years? He didn’t have any family, he didn’t have any kids, but retirement could be expensive. Maybe he was just tired of the rut he was in. A single, fifty-year-old omega wasn’t likely to become a not-single, fifty-year-old omega. He’d never found someone to share his life with, and now he was looking at solitude.

No wonder he and Alex got along so well. Alex was basically the son he’d never had.

Well, Alex would be a good son, then. He’d let Buddy go on dreaming, keep an eye on him, and not let things get out of hand.

The next morning, he headed over to Pauline’s place. He saw Jimmy running down the alley between Pauline’s building and the next just as he walked up to it, and he cursed. He rang her buzzer twice. When she didn’t answer, he picked the lock and ran up.

She didn’t answer a knock on the door either. Alex’s heart beat so hard in his chest he thought his ribs might break. He didn’t need to unlock this door. It was already open, kicked in by a huge boot. He used his shoulder to push it in, careful not to smudge the print.

“Pauline!” he yelled. “Pauline!”

One of Pauline’s kids was crying in its bedroom. Alex tried to tune it out. He needed to find Pauline. He checked in the living room, but she wasn’t in there. The room had been wrecked in some kind of struggle, but Pauline wasn’t in there. She wasn’t in her bedroom either.

The kitchen, on the other hand, was painted with blood. It was here that he found Pauline, huddled over her older child. Both the three year old and his mother were unconscious, with no way of telling how long they’d been there.

Alex checked. They were both alive. He pulled out his phone and called for an ambulance. He wasn’t a big fan of involving the police, especially not with Jimmy’s involvement, but Pauline needed an ambulance.

Once he’d summoned the ambulance, he called Buddy. His quick narrative of what had happened cut through Buddy’s morning fog, and Alex knew Buddy would inform the appropriate people in the family.

Alex didn’t know why Jimmy Senior had let things go on as long as they had, if his son had been violent with Pauline. Now that the grandson had been hurt, Alex suspected Jimmy Senior would take appropriate steps. He could wish that someone had been there for his mother, too, but if wishes were fishes and all that. Besides, he didn’t know the whole story.

Now he headed into the kids’ room and picked up the other baby, a little girl whose name he didn’t know. She kept howling until he took off her overflowing diaper and changed her, slipping her into clean and dry clothes. It was probably the wrong thing to do from a forensic standpoint, but who gave a crap about that when the kid was filthy and hungry?

He waited at the entrance for EMS to show up and asked one of them to get him a bottle. “I don’t want to disturb anything in there, and I didn’t want to look.” He swallowed. “I didn’t think I could do anything for them, you know?”

The lead paramedic put a hand on his shoulder while the other went into the kitchen. “You did the right thing, sir. Now if you could step outside, we’ll bring a bottle to you.”

Alex headed back out into the questionable Bronx sunshine, swimming in guilt and fear.

* * *

Sol looked over the letter on his screen. Most of it was fairly straightforward. There was only one paragraph he thought would be a sticking point with their legal department, and he’d picked their legal staff himself so he knew they wouldn’t miss it. Maybe they’d come up with a better way to word it.

While the terms of the agreement between Valor Entertainment, Inc, and S&G Records are generous, it seems appropriate to make one further offer. When Valor Entertainment receives the signed acceptance of our offer from S&G, we will seal all records pertaining to the matter of Mr. Taylor’s indiscretions for twenty years. Should S&G decline our offer, we will hand them over to the appropriate authorities in the appropriate jurisdictions.

He tapped his stylus against his jaw. Did that sound like blackmail? It sounded like blackmail. It was blackmail. Sol and his company were more than happy to blackmail another company if it meant getting a talented singer out from under a contract that forced her to work with someone who was actively harming her.

In theory, they should go to the police and let the legal system handle it, but Sol knew the truth. The legal system wasn’t going to offer much help to poor Sonia, and she’d still be stuck under contract to the company that let it happen in the first place. That wasn’t a winning strategy for anyone, except maybe the scandal sheets.

He sent the file down to Legal. Let them sort out the wording. He had other work to do.

Sander Rose knocked on his office door. Rose was the CFO for all of Valor. Sol liked him well enough. He saw him socially at the Hellion Club and at work, and he hadn’t gotten sick of looking at him yet so he must be an okay guy, right?

“Hey, Delaney. Mind if I come in?”

“Of course.” Sol gestured to the seats across from him. “How’s it going?”

“It’s going great. I’m just looking over those last signings you did at Valor Records, and your profits were amazing. How do you do it?”

Sol let himself grin, wolfishly. “It’s all a matter of knowing what your negotiating partner really wants, Rose. Once you find that, you can come to a place where you both win. This Sonia deal? That one’s going to be incredible for us, because what S&G really wants is to keep the whole thing with that Taylor guy quiet.”

“I see.” Rose shook his head, laughing, and sprawled in his chair. “Well, good for you. And her, of course. That sounds like a big mess right there, if it’s not handled right. So how are you and Carsten settling in? Is the building working out for you? I know you had some security concerns.”

Sol stiffened. “Yeah. Yeah, we have some concerns, but so far everything’s worked out fine. I’m pretty sure my ex is too addled to find his way onto a plane, but you never know.” He glanced out the window, just in case.

“Well, it’s easier to keep secure here than anyplace else in the world.” Rose’s smile was reassuring and kind. “How’s BSNY working for you? Makes life a lot easier, doesn’t it?”

Sol chuckled. Rose would never know. “Incredibly. You hardly know the staff is there. They’re amazingly professional. My only concern is that my son seems to have developed an attachment to the chef.”

“Some chefs don’t mind. Ours got Wentworth weaned off of chicken nuggets within a week of being assigned to us. It’s surprising the fellow isn’t married with children of his own, to be honest. Not that I’m complaining.” He winked at Sol.

“Was yours open to extracurriculars?” Sol raised an eyebrow. “I invited ours to have dinner with us, and his supervisor started ranting about harassment.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say ours was open to anything, but he didn’t get his supervisor involved.” Rose frowned. “Did he really go running to his supervisor over a dinner invitation?”

Sol rubbed the back of his neck. “She was on site. There was a history there.” He couldn’t very well admit to Rose he’d tried to marry someone who turned out to be the help, could he?

That was his father’s voice talking. He pushed past it. “I had a history with him, a very long time ago. It ended poorly, and apparently he’s still got some ill feelings about it. The supervisor was right there, like an attack dog. You wouldn’t believe!” He forced himself to chuckle. “There must be an issue with this fellow getting harassed, because he really is very handsome.”

“I wonder if we’re talking about the same chef. On the tall side, muscular for an omega, his hair is kind of shaved on the sides…”

Sol saw red. He had to force it back. Rose had dared to make a move on his omega? “That does sound like Alex. He’s something else, isn’t he?”

“I can’t imagine how he’s still single. Maybe he just turns down everyone.” Rose shrugged. “In which case, you were lucky to have had him when you did. He’s a phenomenal chef, at least. Woodham, from Valor Television, has been talking about him. Some nonsense about a TV show.”

Sol scoffed. “If Alex can’t handle a dinner invitation from someone to whom he was actually engaged at one point he’s not going to be able to handle a television show. Trust me here.” He held himself still and tilted his head. “Wait, what?”

“Some guy in a bar pitched him a show about food and booze. The way Woodham made it sound is like it’s a laid back, easy-going show that makes people feel confident. That’s why the hosts are two guys from the Bronx and not people from upscale places in any way.” Rose threw up his hands. “It’s not what would appeal to me, but I’m not the target market. Woodham knows television. He knows what’s going to sell and what won’t.”

“But Alex—Alex can’t be on TV. Alex has no idea how to bend to accommodate the needs of people above him.” Sol shook his head. “I don’t want to be that guy, but Alex is stubborn. He’s proud. He’s definitely changed since he was a kid, and even then he wasn’t ever going to defer to people above him, you know? He’s a fine chef, he’s a great chef, but he’s never going to be accommodating. There’s no way he’ll change a format just because it doesn’t play well with an audience.”

Rose snickered. “That explains why he’s still single.” He sat up straighter and drummed his fingertips on the desk. “Look, it’s not the kind of show you or I would be interested in watching, but we’ve got about as much interest in the kitchen as we do in kidney surgery. Woodham knows TV. If he thinks Alex can do it, then I say we green light the project.” He leaned back again. “Look at me, acting like this has gotten past the ‘some guy pitched this to Woodham in a bar’ stage. He knows what he’s doing. He’ll screen test Alex, flesh out a plan, you know. The usual.” He waved a hand.

Sol squirmed. “Yeah. Yeah, the usual. It just seems so weird to me. Then again, I never was a big TV guy. Oh, well. We’ll see if anything comes of it. There are a billion TV ideas pitched every year. How many of them make it to the screen?”

Rose laughed. “Right? Let’s make a point to grab lunch sometime soon.”

Sol checked the time. It was almost five. “Yeah, you’ve probably got to get back to your place. It’s just about quitting time.”

“You too. Isn’t it chef day for you?” Rose winked.

Sol might have hurried home with an extra spring in his step, but he would never admit it.

Alex was there when he got home, of course. That harridan, Ms. Sloane was there with him, because of course she was. Inge and Carsten were there too. Carsten was up on a stool, hovering over the island, with Alex beside him.

Alex was deep in conversation with Carsten while they stared into an electrical device. Inge watched, but her focus was on Carsten. Carsten was enthralled though. Alex didn’t seem to have noticed Sol’s arrival, and Sloane put a finger over her lips to indicate he should stay quiet. “Okay. Good. Now that we’ve gotten the initial base flavors down, we’re going to put the rest of the ingredients into the pot. Go ahead and dump them in, buddy.”

Carsten poured things from cans into the pot, his face split with a delighted grin. “All of it, just like that, Mr. Alex?”

“Just like that, Carsten. You’re doing great. Awesome. Now we close the lid, and I’m going to tell it to cook this for half an hour at high pressure. Fantastic. And when it’s done, you’ll have made a fantastic chickpea stew. It’s a lean protein —”

“So, it’s good for what Daddy likes!” Carsten said with glee.

“Right! And it’s vegan. What does that mean, Carsten?”

“No animals at all. Which is good for what Inge likes!”

“Right!” Alex grinned down at Carsten, gentle and proud. It wasn’t feigned or brittle. “And what else did we put in?”

“Tomatoes!” Carsten cheered.

“And why did we put them in?”

“Because I love them!”

“Right, sport. So, we’ve created a meal that should be good for everyone, right here, all by ourselves.” He gave Carsten a high five. “What do you think about that?”

“It’s awesome! Can we do it again?”

“Next week, Carsten. Next week I’ll come in, and maybe we can have a couple of dishes we can make.” Alex’s smile was soft and almost loving.

Carsten threw his arms around Alex and squeezed. “I can’t wait! It’s going to be the best! And I’ll draw you a picture and everything!”

“I’ll hang it up on my wall, Carsten.” Alex ruffled his hair and stood up.

Only now did Ms. Sloane clear her throat. “Alex, Mr. Delaney is here.”

“Daddy!” Carsten jumped up and ran over to Sol. Sol braced for impact, and Carsten threw his arms around Sol’s legs and held on tight. “Daddy, wait until you try tonight’s dinner. It’s got food everyone likes inside! You’re going to love it! Mr. Alex helped me to do it. And it’s going to be the best! There’s garlic and there’s regano and there’s even marjorie!”

Alex hid a laugh behind his hand. “Oregano and marjoram, buddy. Putting Marjorie in the stew wouldn’t be very vegan at all.”

“Okay. But Marjorie’s a big jerk, and I don’t like her so maybe we can just pretend to cook her, okay?”

Alex lost it then, almost doubled over with laughter. “Okay. We can do that. Right now, I’ve got to get going. I’ll see you next week, though, and I’ve cleared out room for that picture. Okay?” He turned to the wretched Ms. Sloane and gave her instructions for how to finish with the odd electric cooker contraption, and then he headed out.

Sol followed him to the elevator and escorted him downstairs. Alex rolled his eyes once he was trapped in the elevator with Sol. “I should’ve figured you’d ignore the whole ‘not being alone together’ thing. You always did have a problem with boundaries.”

Sol scoffed. “I hope you’re not implying anything we did wasn’t consensual.”

Alex chuckled bitterly. “Of course not. That wasn’t a problem.” He narrowed his eyes at Sol. “Why did you make BSNY force me to stick around?”

Sol stopped the elevator. “Does it matter? We’re both here now. Look, can’t we at least be professional about this?”

“I am being professional. You seem to be confused about what my profession actually is. I told you no ten years ago, and I’m telling you no again. I’m not going to be your whore, your dirty little secret, or something you hide away. I’m still pissed as hell you ever asked.” He shot his hand out to start the elevator again.

Sol blocked it. Their bare skin hadn’t come into contact for a decade, and the electricity of it almost knocked Sol over. Could Alex really not feel that? Was he so angry that he just couldn’t feel them anymore? Or had he really moved on, and moved past everything they’d meant to each other?

“Carsten seems to adore you,” Sol tried.

“That’s funny, I thought his father did too.” Alex broke contact and started the elevator moving again. “He’s a Delaney. I suspect he’ll get over it soon enough.”

Sol bit the inside of his cheek. Getting angry, or rather giving voice to his anger, wouldn’t get him anywhere. “You have no idea what kind of pressure my father brought to bear on me.”

“You’re right. I don’t.” Alex stared at the shiny metal elevator doors. “And you know what? I don’t care. I don’t have to care. You dumped me, Delaney. You don’t get to pretend to be the victim here.”

The elevator doors opened, and Alex strode through them. Sol hesitated, and then he chased after him. It wouldn’t be beneath his dignity now to try to catch up with him, would it? As long as he didn’t beg. Sol Delaney didn’t beg.

“You probably deserved better. But don’t pretend there weren’t complicating factors.” Sol kept his voice down. He could see a few of his neighbors casting glances at him. He had nothing to hide, but he wanted to keep his privacy and his dignity anyway.

“You know what, Sol? There really weren’t. If you’d cared, you’d have stayed. That’s the only complicating factor there was. Honestly, I should have known better.” Alex stopped in the middle of the lobby and stared at Sol’s hand until he took it off of his black leather jacket.

Sol hadn’t realized he’d grabbed him.

“I knew guys like you—rich sons of bitches, heading over to the Hellion Club to get your rocks off with omegas you know are only there for the money—aren’t capable of anything resembling love or respect when it comes to omegas. I knew that going in. I was young. I was naive. I was so sure you were different. But you made damn sure I wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice, didn’t you?”

Sol let his head loll back. “Oh, poor Alex. How dare you say I didn’t love you or respect you?”

“How about if we start with you suggesting I be your side omega while you married some schmo you didn’t give a damn about? It was cruel to me, cruel to him, and a huge disservice to any kids you had. You seriously think I should have been okay with just being hidden away, someone who could never admit to being with their partner in public? Screw you. I might have been a trash kid, but I was worth a hell of a lot more than that.” He turned on his heel and flipped Sol off as he walked out the door.

Sol watched him go. He couldn’t terminate Alex’s contract, not after all he’d done to force him to stay. And not knowing just how much Carsten liked him and hated everything else in New York. He knew he’d screwed up, though, and for once he was at a loss as to how to fix it.