Page 8 of Reeling for His Omega

“And that sounds great on its face. It does. But in terms of financial soundness, I am going to have a profit margin of 80 to 90 percent by making everything in house and not having a middleman. Buying the product from you would cut that down to 30 percent, and that’s high-balling it.”

His expression turned sad, and I felt like shit for doing that to him.

The waiter delivered the food and Joaquin seemed surprised when I offered him one of the plates. “You ordered this for me?”

I nodded, laughing. “I know I’m not making a deal with you, but I’m not rude. We’re sitting here, having a discussion, and I was hungry. I have manners even though you might not think so.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

We ate for a few minutes in silence, and I really thought he would bring up the issue of his popcorn again, but, instead, he surprised me. “So, tell me what brought you to Oliver Creek.”

“I used to be a lawyer, in a city. I did it because every alpha in my family is an attorney, but I always hated it. One day, I looked around and realized I had no life at all. Long hours working for wealthy people who took more than their share from every transaction. I wanted something else. Disappointed everyone I knew and followed my childhood dream of opening a movie theater.”

“A lawyer,” he said with the attitude most people did. I no longer took offense. I didn’t really like the profession either, or myself when I was one.

“Yes. What about you? Have you always lived here?”

“I’ve lived here for a few years. Long enough to see how the place has changed, not long enough to know what it was when there weren’t many people. It was already somewhat bustling when I moved in.”

Joaquin had polished off his food before I did. Was he hungry? I couldn’t imagine the popcorn business on its own was that lucrative, but then again, maybe I was a snob and needed to rethink things.

“And the popcorn business?”

“Seems silly to most people. Flavored popcorn. I started by selling at farmer’s markets and at tables in front of drugstores. Oliver Creek was up and coming as a place for new foods and businesses. So…I took a shot and got the cart.”

“Something we have in common,” I added.

“Do you have a lot to do to get the theater ready?”

Not only was I interested in spending more time with this omega, but my wolf was as well. It made me think of the tiger the other night and how drawn he was to him.

I thought it over. “It’s a lot of painting. And I hate painting. I was actually thinking about hiring someone, I hate it so much.”

“Well, before the cart and before all the popcorn, I was a painter by trade, so, no, I don’t hate it and yes, I can do it.”

“I hate to take you away from your business, Joaquin. The theater needs a lot of work and I’m being very kind when I say a lot. It’s…I’m drowning just thinking about it.”

Chapter Eight

Joaquin

I’d been in construction before I decided to create popcorn flavors, primarily doing painting. It paid well, but I hadn’t loved doing it and had been under the impression I wasn’t going to be doing it again anytime soon. But the alpha needed the work done, and I could use the funds, especially if my cart failed.

The alpha had been so kind to offer me a meal, and our conversation had been pleasant, but he hadn’t lied when he said he hadn’t changed his mind. I still hadn’t agreed to take the job, though. It would require some thought.

With that said, I went home and got my cart because I had to keep working as long as I could. The smart thing would be to take on the painting job and maybe any others I could find. Forget my popcorn for the time being and earn a regular wage for a while.

Why had I ever given it up?

I knew the answer to that. Painting was mind numbing and overall did not satisfy my creativity. I’d done so many other kinds of work in construction, but somehow I kept ending up painting. Wall after wall. Ceiling after ceiling. Long smooth strokes. Sometimes a spray gun. And as I worked on each project with its boring plain finish, I could only imagine what I could be doing with such a large space.

A mural. An image that represented the place where the job was happening. Art. I’d painted murals on many of the buildings back in the lands, and walking away from all of them was one more painful element of my new life.

But I had to let go of the past and move forward one day at a time. And that meant going to meet with Eryx again and discussing his offer. I found him in the theater.

“I’ve painted everything from living rooms to corporate buildings. And…I could use the extra money.”

He showed me the estimate he’d gotten from another painter. “I’ll match this estimate. If you want the job.”