Heaven's Ballroom

by Aiden Bates

  Alton chuckled softly, slipping his arm around my waist as he nodded to two passing teacher’s assistants dressed in the latest Gucci. “Which is it? The idea of meeting my kid, or the idea of meeting my kid in a place like this?”

  “Both,” I breathed out, the tightness building in my chest. “I’ve never been good with kids, Alton, and this place…”

  “I bet you’re great with kids,” he assured me. “And the rest of this—it’s just for show.”

  “The outfits those TAs were wearing must have cost more than what I make in a year.”

  “Exactly,” he agreed. “They’re just like peacocks—the teachers, the school, the whole lot. Flaunting their wealth so all the rich people who send their kids here know they’re in the right place.”

  “Flaunting wealth put my parents company under,” I pointed out.

  “I didn’t say it was a good thing.” Alton guided me down the hall toward a massive set of carved oak double doors, polished to shine so bright I could nearly see the reflection of our shoes in them. “Just remember, no one here is better than you just because of the labels on their clothes.”

  “Will your daughter agree?” I asked.

  Alton grinned. “Lizzie’s five. She doesn’t even know what Gucci is yet. And besides—if the school’s calling me in the middle of the day like this, it probably means she’s in trouble again. If I trust you to hold your own around Hayward, I think I can trust you not to crumple at the sight of a petulant child.”

  “Again?” Something about the idea of Alton’s daughter being a five-year-old juvenile delinquent was somehow hilarious to me. Didn’t calm my nerves at all, but at least it made me laugh a little. “Just like her Alpha father, huh?”

  “Oh, no, I’ve always been very well behaved. She got it from Patrick, I think.”

  I looked up at Alton, watching his face carefully. Apart from a brief explanation on the night I’d met Alton about the circumstances surrounding Patrick’s death, this was the first he’d mentioned his Omega partner. The first time I’d actually heard him use Patrick’s name.

  I expected to see sadness in Alton’s eyes when he said it. It had been there on that first night—and maybe, in a way, it was there now. But there was a little flicker of pride there too. Not happiness, but something close. The bittersweetness of his late husband’s legacy—a legacy that was still there in the daughter they’d made together.

  Suddenly, it wasn’t Lizzie’s school that intimidated me anymore—it was Lizzie herself.

  “What’d she do this time, you think? Use the wrong fork at the class tea party?”

  “She would never,” Alton said with a chuckle. “If anything, I imagine it’s that damned teacher of hers. That asshole never liked me.”

  “What’s not to like?”

  Alton cast a wry glance in my direction as we came to the door of the front office. “The fact that I wouldn’t fuck him, mostly. You ready?”

  I took a deep breath, nodding. “As I’ll ever be.”

  It seemed stupid to be so nervous. It wasn’t like I’d never been in a principal's office before. Back when I was a kid, I’d been in the office every other day for some stupid thing or another. Coloring outside the lines—and right onto the desk with markers. Kissing other boys beneath the slide at recess. Convincing Jimmy Beckett to eat paste.

  Alton’s Patrick wasn’t the only Omega with a devilish side. If anything, learning that tidbit about Alton’s late husband only further convinced me that Alton had a type.

  But on the other hand, there were several reasons for me to be uncomfortable in this situation. Firstly, that I didn’t even know what Alton and I were yet. As he held the door open for me, I wondered how he’d introduce me to his daughter and her principal. Explain my being there. Would it be, “Meet Eliot, my very close friend”? “Meet Eliot, my boyfriend”? I knew better than to expect Alton to call me his partner—all things considered, that would have been most uncomfortable of all. But he couldn’t exactly say, “Here’s Eliot, I’m stringing him along because I need to drag him to a business meeting disguised as a date,” could he?

  “Mr. Palmer,” a smart-looking bespectacled woman in a pencil skirt said when she laid eyes on us. Her dark hair was pulled back so tightly into a bun, I couldn’t tell whether she’d had some intensive Botox or if her bobby pins were holding her whole fact taut. “How kind of you to join us on such short notice. And look—you’ve brought a friend.” She forced a knowing smile, her lips a thin, curved line. “Mr. Rivers won’t like that one bit.”

  “Always a pleasure, Amelia.” Despite her severity, Alton shook her hand like they were old friends. “This is Eliot—you caught us mid-lunch date. Eliot, meet Amelia Novak.”

  “Principal Novak, if you’re being cute.” She looked me up and down, nodding with approval as her gaze turned back to Alton. “Cute seems to come easy to him. Well done.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief after enduring Amelia’s iron-gripped handshake. Date, Alton had said. Cute. Well done. They hadn’t exactly labeled me as Alton’s hot new piece of ass or anything, for which I was grateful, but I was obviously being viewed as a plus-one.

  I still wasn’t sure how I felt about that. But as Alton placed his palm on the small of my back, guiding me into Amelia’s office ahead of him, I was far more interested in what the mysterious Mr. Rivers would make of me now that we were in the belly of the beast.

  The moment we stepped foot through Amelia’s door, a little ketchup-red mop of curls launched itself at Alton’s legs.

  “Daddy, I swear I didn’t do anything wrong,” the curls professed, clinging to Alton’s knees.

  “Are you sure about that?” Alton laughed as she clung to his slacks like a little koala bear.

  That would be Lizzie, then. She wasn’t even waist height yet, small-boned and delicate-looking. As Alton scooped her up into his arms, his hands brushing the curls away from her face, I realized how much she must have taken after Patrick. She didn’t have Alton’s nose, or his stern lips, or his strong jawline. Every time Alton looked at her, he must have seen Patrick in every inch of her face. But as her eyes trailed over to me, I clocked the hazel in them.

  Her eyes were all Alton. Right down to the flecks of gold around the irises and the way they narrowed suspiciously as she took me in.

  “Who’re you?” she asked, just as blunt as I imagined her father was in the boardroom.

  “I’m Eliot,” I said gently, offering her my hand to shake.

  She glanced at it warily for a moment, then took one of my fingers into her tiny fist. “I didn’t do anything wrong,” she professed to me, her brow set seriously.

  “I’m sure you didn’t,” I agreed, fighting back my own laughter.

  “Luckily, that’s not really for you to say, is it?”

  We all turned to the corner, where an annoyed-looking Omega with sleek black hair had posted himself up. He wore an expensive-looking pair of slacks, a white shirt and a vest. His tie was wound tightly around his neck, I was surprised he could choke any words out at all. Handsome, muscular, but a little sinister looking.

  “No need to be rude, Mr. Rivers.” Amelia rolled her eyes and pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose as she settled behind her desk. “Now, this is—what, the third time you’ve brought Lizzie in here this semester?”

  “Fourth, actually,” Rivers corrected her. When his eyes found Alton, they were steely and unmoving. “Your daughter is a very difficult child, Mr. Palmer.”

  “I am not,” Lizzie insisted, glaring daggers back at Rivers from where she was perched in Alton’s arms. “If anyone’s a difficult child, it’s you.”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth, taking a step back as Alton placed Lizzie down in one of the chairs positioned before Amelia’s desk. I could tell already that Lizzie was a spitfire. It surprised me how much I liked her immediately—almost as much as I disliked this Rivers character on sight. But I knew it wasn’t my place to laugh just then. This was Alton and Lizzi
e’s business, not mine.

  Still, I had a feeling that it was going to be fun to sit back and watch.

  “Why don’t you tell me what you think she’s done this time,” Alton said levelly. “If she’s hurt someone…”

  “Oh, no, our Lizzie isn’t a bully,” Amelia reassured him. “Mr. Rivers, perhaps you’d like to do the honors?”

  Rivers took a step forward, slamming a thin hardcover picture book down on Amelia’s desk. “Lizzie’s been reading banned books in the classroom again, I’m afraid. I’ve told her three times already today that it would need to go back into her bag, that I didn’t want to see it again—but unfortunately, it looks like your daughter has issues with listening.” He paused, obviously pleased with himself. It made me wonder how many times he’d practiced giving that little speech in his head.

  “This is just Where the Wild Things Are,” Alton said, leaning forward and shaking his head dismissively. “Last I checked, Maurice Sendak wasn’t exactly considered particular subversive, Daniel.”

  “He’s not,” Lizzie agreed firmly, even though I wasn’t entirely sure that, at five, she even knew what subversive meant. Although, being raised by Alton…I guess I couldn’t rule out the possibility. “It was reading time, and it’s my favorite book, and I wanted to read it.”

  “We’re very impressed with Lizzie’s reading skills,” Amelia said offhandedly. “Obviously, she’s advanced for her age.”

  “Then do you mind explaining to me what the problem is?” Alton placed a protective hand atop Lizzie’s head.

  “You know how it is, Alton,” Amelia said with a sigh. “If Mr. Rivers doesn’t want a book in his classroom, then it’s his decision to make.”

  “It’s satanic,” Rivers said smugly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Monsters and magic, children running away in the night—I won’t stand for it.”

  “Maybe you should sit down and reread it then,” Alton said firmly, pushing the book toward Rivers across the desk. “I’d hardly call it satanic. Maybe your reading comprehension needs a little work?”

  “My reading comprehension is just fine—”

  “I beg to differ, actually. But look—there are plenty of pictures in it. Shouldn’t be too hard. Consider it our special gift to you—who knows? It might surprise you. That is, if Lizzie doesn’t mind sharing, of course.”

  “I’m good at sharing.” Lizzie giggled, able to detect the insult despite her age. Even Amelia cracked a smile. As for me—I was beaming. It was entirely too captivating, seeing Alton in action like this.

  Suddenly, I didn’t know what I’d been so worried about. Alton had the situation under control, and his daughter was obviously a sweetheart. Even stern-looking Amelia seemed to be caught up in Alton’s charms.

  “Are we done here, Amelia?” Alton asked, ignoring the steam-pink flush rising to Rivers’ cheeks.

  “Oh, I think so.” Amelia checked her watch, then waved us out the door. “Why don’t you go ahead and take Lizzie home? The day’s almost over, and it sounds like the issue is resolved.”

  “It’s not—” Rivers insisted, but Amelia silenced him with a severe look and he backed off, his mouth clamping shut.

  “Can we get ice cream?” Lizzie asked, chipper as could be. She looked over her shoulder at me, giving me a gap-toothed grin. “Eliot can come too, if he wants.”

  “I think that sounds perfect,” Alton agreed, giving me a smile of his own. “But first, we’ll need to swing by the bookstore. You’ll need a new copy of Wild Things for bedtime tonight.”

  As Alton herded us out the door, I felt a pleased warmth radiating through my chest. The more I learned about Alton Palmer, the more I liked him—and in that moment, seeing how he behaved around his daughter, I liked him a lot.

  9

  Alton

  “She’s cute,” Eliot commented, leaning into me as we watched Lizzie settle into an oversized armchair with a new copy of her favorite book.

  “She is, isn’t she?” I grinned, breathing in the scent of coffee and fresh pages.

  Blue Couch Bookstore was a massive, beautiful space, even by Madison Avenue standards. Eliot and I had settled down at a table in its in-house coffee shop with twin lattes, sipping at them as we kept an eye on Lizzie in the children’s section. All around us, other parents were doing the same, letting their children wander the big half-circle corral and peruse the shelves at will. With so many happy married couples around, normally I felt a little uncomfortable sitting by myself—but on that day, with Eliot at my side, I almost felt like a whole person again. Not just some sad single father with a precocious five-year-old who was constantly trying to sneak into the horror section.

  It was nice—nicer than I was used to. Nicer than I’d dreamed it would be.

  “Very cute,” Eliot said again, looking half surprised about it.

  “She’s my kid.” I laughed into my latte before taking a sip. “Of course she’s adorable. You don’t need to act like it’s some kind of revelation that I make beautiful babies.”

  “I don’t know,” Eliot teased. “You’re cute enough, sure, but kids…are usually sticky-fingered little monsters, aren’t they?”

  “Oh, she gets that way around bedtime.” I didn’t mind robbing Eliot of the illusion that my daughter was a saint—reading books that Mr. Rivers deemed inappropriate wasn’t the only reason she and I had wound up in Amelia’s office that semester. “I caught her climbing the cabinets last week with a spoon to eat sugar straight out of the bag.”

  “An admirable pastime. I’m the same way when I get back from the gym.”

  I raised an eyebrow, looking Eliot up and down appraisingly. “From the looks of you, I wouldn’t have guessed you’d so much as thought about sugar in your entire life.”

  “Oh, I lust after sugar. It’s all I dream about anymore—frolicking through gumdrop forests, licking lollipops daffodils, bathing in crystal clear streams of Pepsi Blue…”

  He kept a straight face for most of his lie—I’d give him that much. But after a beat of my disbelieving gaze meeting his, Eliot burst out into laughter. Warmth flooded my chest as I joined him in it.

  “Okay, okay, so maybe not,” he admitted. “But at the same time…Yeah, I’ll own up to indulging from time to time. Without a little sweetness in your life, you end up like—well, like that asshole teacher of Lizzie’s, I guess.”

  “Daniel Rivers.” I clucked my tongue and shook my head. “The most intolerable man I’ve ever met, I think—and you already know how I feel about my boss.”

  “What was his deal?” Eliot asked, the words blurting out of his mouth like he’d been holding them in for a while now. “I mean, look—if she was reading Mein Kampf or Fifty Shades of Grey, sure, I’d get it, but come on! Even Lizzie’s principal knew that whole thing was a farce.”

  “Oh, that’s just how he operates,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Lizzie isn’t a complete angel or anything—she’s too smart and stubborn and headstrong to be an easy kid to teach sometimes, I’m sure.”

  “She get that from you, or from Patrick?”

  “Both of us.” I closed my eyes, smiling at the memory of my last fight with Patrick. He’d been pissed off at his Lamaze instructor, insisting that he didn’t want to see that condescending prick ever again, and I’d had to threaten to carry him to class in my arms just to get him to go practice his breathing for a little while. It was true—stubborn ran strong in Lizzie’s genes. “But with the right teacher, she would be fine, I’m sure. Rivers is just…”

  “In love with you,” Eliot supplied. “Or, well. In lust, at the very least.”

  “He picked me out immediately at kindergarten round-up.” I sighed, my stomach rolling at the memory of it. “A little baby crazy, and very into that whole single dad thing.”

  “Let me guess.” Eliot smirked, sipping at his latte and patting his lips dry with his napkin. “He pinned you up against the wall and begged you to put a baby into him, then—”

  Eliot stopped in h
is tracks, noting the look of seriousness on my face.

  “No,” he said, pressing his hand to his chest in disbelief. “You’re kidding me. He didn’t really—”

  “Oh, he did,” I assured him. “Cornered me in the cubby room while Lizzie played with the other kids. Pointed out what strong baby-making genes I must have while he teased my belt loops…”

  “What a proposition.”

  “Not one that I was interested in. I told him that I wasn’t looking—you only get one soul mate, you know.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Eliot said, lowering his gaze to his coffee cup. It was the line I’d given him the night I met him—a line that I’d somewhat regretted ever since. Did I believe it? I certainly had that night. But as I clocked the sadness in his voice…Yeah, I sure as hell regretted ever saying it now. Teasingly or not.

  “Sorry.” My fingertips reached out to his knuckles from across the table, brushing against them soothingly.

  “No, no. It’s fine. What did he do when you told him?”

  “Luckily, he backed off after that. Seemed to turn him away for a little while, at least.”

  “Lucky indeed.” Eliot nestled his knuckles against my touch, leaning into it a little.

  “But he’s been a bastard to Lizzie ever since,” I finished, clenching my molars bitterly. “Amelia knows everything, obviously. She has to entertain him, but—”

  “How come?”

  Another eye roll. “The Rivers family donates money to Lizzie’s school. Lots. Keeping their asshole son busy with a job there is the price for it, I guess. But Amelia and I—we went to college together. She puts up with Rivers’ bullshit, but when it comes to Lizzie, she always has my back.”

  “The things that money can buy…” Eliot sighed. “Christ. What a prick, taking out some spurred advances on a little girl like that. It’s not Lizzie’s fault that—”

  “Her father is so ridiculously attractive to single young Omegas?”

  Eliot cracked a grin. “Something like that. Which begs the question of why you’re entertaining my bullshit, doesn’t it?”