Page 1 of Glitterati Omega

One

R

upert tapped his foot against thedry,packed earth of the parking lot, mouth twisted in a frown as his skin prickled in the summer sun; he glanced down at his folded arms, noting the new undertone of pink. He peered at the rows of glimmeringsuvs, shining examples of American excess. He watched as a group of elderly white folks in t-shirts and shorts waddled toward the store, led by a slender, (presumably) Latinx twentysomething in a crop top, booty shorts, and a cowboy hat with matching boots.

Rupert looked away before he could be any more judgmental. The only person he needed to judge was Morgan Warwick, and that was because the alpha was already fifteen minutes late to their appointed meeting.

And to think, he’d flown all the way across the Atlantic for this. The sheer nerve of some alphas never ceased to amaze him.

He sighed, first in relief and then in exasperation, when a black Land Rover careened into the parking lot, nearly sideswiping a tiny blue Honda as it slid into the only available parking spot. Rupert tucked his phone in his purse and made for the newly arrived vehicle; that could only be Morgan.

Sure enough, he found himself almost nose-to-nose with the alpha’s weathered purple Doc Martens (achoice, but then again, so were Rupert’s lime green kitten heels).

“Hey,” Morgan said nonchalantly as the white alpha hopped down from the running board, their dark curls bouncing.

“You’re late,” Rupert accused.

“I guess I am,” Morgan murmured, glancing down at their phone.

“Apologies,” said a low, rolling voice, one with a decidedly non-Texan accent, and Rupert looked to see a lanky Black man in a neat burgundy suit step around the vehicle. He shook out his sleeves, then adjusted his jacket and, finally, met Rupert’s gaze with a smile. “I’m afraid Mx. Warwick is running behind on my account.”

Rupert almost melted. That brilliant smile and the rolling South African accent were balm to his irritation.

“Seriously?! Mx. Warwick!” Morgan cried, elbowing the man. “C’mon, Winston, how long have we been friends?”

“Too long,” he agreed with that same playful smile, and Morgan shook their head, their curls flying.

Something disturbingly like jealousy wormed its way into the pit of Rupert’s stomach. He crossed his arms and looked away. It seemed to him the Black man might be just as much an alpha as Morgan, although it also seemed that they might be more than friends. But, two alphas or not, that was none of his business. “If you two don’t mind,” he murmured, “I believe we might still be able to make the next tour group.”

“Oh!” Morgan cried, then darted off toward the stone path that led to the store. “Right, the tour!”

Rupert sighed; Winston seemed to chuckle. He glanced at Rupert. “I take it Morgan roped you into this as well.”

“Is it that obvious?” Rupert asked.

“Well,” the other man said, glancing him up and down, “you’re not precisely dressed for the occasion.”

Rupert supposed he wasn’t, although he didn’t think his lilac sundress was entirely inappropriate for a vineyard on a hot summer afternoon. He tossed the man a disdainful look. “And I suppose one ought to wear a three-piece suit to stroll amid the vines?”

Winston snorted and smirked. “I’d think not. I’ve just come from the office—that’s why we were late. I needed to finish filing.”

“Filing what?” He used the excuse of being curious to rake his gaze over the man.

“Ah—paperwork for a client. A sale closing first thing Monday morning.”

“Oh, you’re in real estate then?” And almost certainly an alpha, Rupert surmised.

Again, Winston chuckled. “Not quite. The legal side of it, at least. Sometimes other legal work.”

Rupert nodded, as though he understood. He had lots of property, but he also had people to take care of transactions, including sales and purchases. Besides, his father had handled most of it until his death just a few months prior.

“So why would Morgan ask you to come along?”

Winston lifted his brows, almost like he was insulted, but there was no malice in his tone when he spoke. “I might ask you the same thing.”

Rupert flushed and waved a hand. “I didn’t mean anything—I was only asking.”

Winston held up a hand. “Before I was a solicitor, I worked in hospitality.”