“What Ineedis to update my spreadsheet.” I grab my laptop from the safe and sit on the bed while I update it with every scrap I can gather from my memory about the event: what she said, what she wore, what she ate. The parts of her speech that I remember. The people who said they admired her, the song we danced to.
It soothes something deep inside me to record all the details that I can, hoarding them like treasure as the sacred words of the alokoi bond echo in my head:
I see her. I feel her flame. She is known to me.
Cari is mine. No matter what it takes, no matter how many apologies I have to make, no matter how much time she needs, we are meant to be together. I can wait.
“Wish you spent that much time working,” Gabe snarks from the desk. I growl at him, and he laughs. “Hey, I was thinking. Since we’re already both down here anyway, maybe we should go to TechMeet next week. I talked to the datacenter that hosts our servers, and they have a couple passes for us if we want them.”
I lift my brows, surprised that Gabe wants to go to a busy conference. That’s usually my thing, not his. I don’t mind the excuse to stay in town, though. I’m not sure my feral form would let me leave San Drogo even if I wanted to. “Sure. Sounds good. You’ve got to get your own room if one opens up, though.”
He rolls his eyes. “But you’re so fun to room with. I love hanging out with people who cry into their spreadsheets all night.” I aim another pillow at him. He pitches it back, scrambling for the one on his folding cot, and the room briefly descends into an all-out pillow war until someone calls from the front desk to ask us to be quiet.
Snickering like twelve-year-olds, we order late-night hot wings for me and pizza for him and stay up until dawn brainstorming a new app. Then Gabe persuades me to skip sleeping and instead go on a morning solo hike in a nearby valley where shifting is allowed, so I get to stretch my wings a little, too.
This is what I needed. Friendship, a little fun, and yes… some distraction. A chance to clear my head. Really see what’s important.
When I get back from my hike, Gabe has ordered a full spread for us, and we have a productive working lunch. It’s a good day, despite the fact that Cari still hasn’t contacted me.
She will eventually.
I hope.
Chapter 20
Cari
Idrank too much champagne after the guys left the gala. I’m not used to drinking very much, and I wake up in the morning with a pounding headache and fur stuck in my mouth from using Zed’s abandoned tux jacket as a pillow because I missed his smell.
I don’t regret kicking them out, though. The other women at my table, who’d overheard the tail-end of my conversation with Tristan, were so sympathetic and awesome. We danced and partied the night away, taking turns watching each other’s pets. We all got along so well that we formed a monthly brunch club where we can all bring our dogs.
Plus, the Alliance for Animal Welfare raised a record amount of money, even without Tristan’s fat check. Who knows if he even has that money. The check might have been a prop to play with my emotions. In any case, neither I nor the Alliance need him.
I’m being mean. Tristan obviously has money. He probably just forgot to take the envelope out of his pocket when he left because emotions were so high. I’m not feeling as charitable toward Zed, though. My voicemail inbox is conspicuously empty of apologies. He hasn’t even texted me.
You made him promise not to, a little voice niggles at me. I don’t know why that’s stopping him, though. It’s not like he’s been honest with me so far. What’s another lie?
I don’t even know what he’s lying about, but it must be bad if Tristan was holding it over his head. Something about Zed being in town early for the conference? He could have just told me that. But instead of being honest with me and building on what we have, Zed chose to attack someone else over his stupid jealousy.
If he’d talked to me, he’d know that I only want him. Whatever he’s hiding from me, we could’ve worked through it. Maybe we still can, once we’ve both cooled off a bit.
Oh no.What if his secret is that hehasfound his fated mate?
My heart thumps a little too hard, and I start to feel sick. I roll out of bed and rush to the bathroom to take some anti-nausea meds and rinse the sour hangover taste out of my mouth.
Putting thoughts of Zed out of my mind, I make breakfast for me and Radar and get dressed in clean scrubs to volunteer at the shelter. I have a lot of practice carrying on with life while trying not to think about a certain red dragon, so I put him out of my mind.
Radar loves visiting the San Drogo Animal Shelter on our volunteer days. He gets to hang out in the yard with the smaller, elderly dogs. While he has a blast meeting, greeting, and playing with his little buddies, I work in the OR doing assembly-line surgeries.
The staff there is awesome, and today, we get a whole colony of feral cats done with really good outcomes. Feeling great about it, I’m washing up to go home when I hear raised voices in the hallway.
“I don’t want a lap cat! I specifically told you I want asickcat. The sicker, the better. I want one barely clinging to life!” an angry, male voice shouts. Is that…Tristan? I shut off the water to hear their conversation better.
“Sir, we adopt out healthy pets here. Sick cats are treated by our veterinarian until they are ready for new homes,” the adoption coordinator says patiently.
The voice switches from pissed-off to a purr. “Isn’t that expensive?”
Shit. That’s definitely Tristan.
