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“Norman,” Hara nodded as they approached. “Do you have my money?”
Pausing, his beta grayed. “Uh, not yet.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I thought I might get a chance to win it back. Isn’t there another game coming up?”
“Yeah.” Hara’s smile was cunning. Thatcher narrowed his eyes. The omega was definitely up to something, and though he wasn’t a gambler, he’d lay odds it had something to do with his beta’s virginal daughter. “I’ll send you the details.”
“Great,” Norman nodded his appreciation.
As the younger two disappeared from view, Thatcher watched his beta. “How much do you owe him?”
“Uh, I’m not sure.” When he pulled at the sleeve of his shirt, Thatcher knew he was lying. “A couple hundred. Not much. A few good hands and I’ll turn it around.”
Thatcher doubted that, but he was interested in seeing how it played out. “How are the plans for the BBQ coming along?”
“The BBQ?”
Thatcher stopped, causing Norman to pause. “Yes, the BBQ. The fucking BBQ that the entire pack will turn out for. That will be our first impression for visiting shifters? That fucking BBQ.”
“Oh. Susan has that covered.”
“Have you checked in on it?” His tone was sharp. “You know that she has it under control? Because I remember an event, a few years ago where we ran out of food. And before that, the dinner party when everyone got food poisoning?”
Norman paled. “She’s really improved. Over the last few years, things have been better, right? She’s got this.”
Thatcher inhaled, attempting to calm himself.
Change in this pack was coming, and he had a feeling it was going to start with the replacement of his right-hand man. Norman had been slacking lately, shirking his duties.
Though the beta was correct. The last few years the pack events had more than blossomed, but he had his suspicions why they had flourished, and doubted it had much to do with Susan Conners.
“Go talk to your wife and ensure everything is on track.”
“Okay.”
Norman continued in the same direction as Thatcher. He stopped again. “Now, Norman. Go talk to her right now.”
“Of course. Of course.”
Growling, Thatcher rolled his eyes and continued toward the lodge as Norman almost tripped over his own feet, trying to change his path.
When the familiar lights of the lodge came into view, Thatcher sighed. His sanctuary.
The closer he got, the clearer Mercer’s shape became. The young alpha was pacing the length of the walkway, making Thatcher smile.
That mating pull was a bitch. And Mercer was the reason why he was the best pack member for the job he had in mind.
“Thanks for coming.” When he crossed the last of the parking lot, he pulled the keys from his pocket.
“Of course.”
Mercer followed him inside the lodge. Despite the alpha’s clean scent, Thatcher knew there was an underlying hatred he felt as he walked through these halls. It was clear from the rigid way he held his body.
Walking to his office, Thatcher opened another door and pointed to the armchair. Mercer took a seat. “What can I do for you?”
Thatcher perched on the edge of his desk. “I have a little job in mind. Something I think you’ll quite enjoy.”
Mercer’s face gave nothing away. At one point in time, Mercer had been itching to join Thatcher’s inner circle, but all that had changed years ago when Mercer had shown up unannounced at one of Thatcher’s parties.
“King’s fiftieth birthday is coming up soon.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “This week, actually. They’re having a big celebration.”
