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“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Richard snorts. “How incompetent are you, Tommy? You could have employed anyone from that academy and you chose an ex-Snake…? Your father won’t like this. At least I hope that the academy has taught you some manners, Beta.”
“Something like that.” Lincoln’s expression is shuttered.
“If it hasn’t, then I will.” Richard fiddles with his Rolex like he hasn’t just threatened Lincoln.
I’m not worried that Richard can win, if he attacks Lincoln. The difference is that Lincoln has joined a pack, where Richard has the authority.
It isn’t a fair fight.
Lincoln won’t be able to fight back.
Lincoln simply ignores Richard, turning to face Thomas instead. “I was just on my way to work, sir. I wanted to stop and collect my order.” He lifts the box of donuts, before winking at the Betas behind Thomas. “First day at work donuts for the team. It’s customary, right?”
A couple of the Betas cheer, before hurriedly falling silent at Richard’s glare.
Thomas’ lips twitch. “That’s thoughtful. But later. We’re working now.”
My brow furrows.
I can’t read Thomas.
I called him complex. He is.
One moment, he’s the hard businessman to Vito who has no problem following his dad’s orders to tear down our bakery. Then the next, he’s talking to Lincoln like the friendly employer.
I always thought that there was something behind Thomas’ cold mask.
Disappointed, the Betas gaze longingly at the donuts. A couple dare to grin or wave at Lincoln.
I allow myself a small smile.
Lincoln’s making friends on his first day.
See, that’s the power of pastries.
Thomas’ too smart gaze darts between Vito and Lincoln, assessing. “You’re still friends with his sister.”
Lincoln doesn’t react.
Vito snorts, however, crossing his arms. “Fuck that. He’s no longer my friend. We don’t see or hear from Link for three years. Then it gives us the shock of our life, when he turns up here, demanding donuts for you.”
“Me,” Thomas’ voice is flat, “of course. You would cut him from your lives for that.”
My heart hurts.
Thomas turns to Lincoln, pulling out his car keys from his pocket and throwing them to Lincoln, who catches them one-handed. “My Bentley is outside. Go put those donuts in the trunk, then get into the back of the car and wait for me.”
“Sir…” Lincoln can’t help glancing back at the kitchens.
He doesn’t want to leave me unprotected.
“Now, Mr. West.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And welcome to the Saints. I promise, after work, we’ll eat donuts and celebrate your joining the pack properly. You may have lost old friendships, but I hope that you will make new ones.”
“Thank you, sir.” Lincoln’s expression flickers with surprise.
