by Aiden Bates
Logan didn't look down. If he looked down, he'd see the sucking chest wound he knew that Utkin had just left on his body. "Sir, it's only been a couple of months!"
"I know." Utkin held up a hand. "I know, believe me. I argued against it. I know you've been eager to make time with that mouthy omega from next door, too." He raised an eyebrow. "Not that a fling would have any bearing on a business decision, of course, but it's good to have our pleasures where we can. I tried, but nothing really came of it. You might as well close up the shop immediately. The employees will be paid through the end of the week. I know the rent is a sunk cost, but we'll be happy to save the money where we can."
"Of course." Logan thought he might have been possessed. The words came out of his mouth, but he didn't know who'd said them. How was he sitting there so calmly agreeing to the dismantling of his life, of so many other lives, without even pushing back? "What about the restaurant contents?"
"You'll have to stay to oversee the teardown, of course. Employees can take whatever perishables they want. The more movable assets, like the pots and pans and such, should be sold." Utkin drummed his fingers on the desk. "Tables and chairs, too. In essence, I want to recover every possible dime from this place."
Logan shook his head, clearing the fog from it. "I'm sorry, sir, this just doesn't make any sense at all. You were so determined to build this place up that you were willing to try to plant a couple of belligerent drunks to try to get their liquor license yanked. Why the hell are you so willing to cut and run after a couple of weeks?"
Utkin's mouth gave a wry twist. "The thing is, Logan, Trattoria Siena was never going to succeed if it stayed at its current size. I took a gamble. I bet that we could run that dump out of business. I bet wrong, and now I owe that plodding old loon Atherton a new putting iron." He sprawled out again, a lazy grin setting over his face. "I know it will be a hardship, having to stay up here in Maine until the end of the year, but I have a job lined up for you that starts on January second."
Logan lifted his head. "Sir?"
"Another restaurant. It's a little more casual that the trattoria, although it's definitely still upscale. It's an established restaurant down in Fairfield, so the community will be a little bit more pleasant. More our kind of people, instead of the riffraff you've got next door." Utkin waved a hand. "It comes with a raise, of course, because the cost of living is a little bit higher in Fairfield than it is up here in Maine. Put in a couple of years at the Hacienda, and I guarantee you that you'll make district manager by the end of those two years."
The restaurant name hit Logan like a punch to the stomach. The Hacienda was the most prime assignment in New England Restaurants' portfolio. Siena, Sam's dog, could manage that place and turn a profit. Utkin handing him that assignment was as good as handing him two years' worth of bonuses and sending him on vacation, and then promising him a promotion at the end of it.
No more eighteen-hour days. No more months with one day off, and nothing else. No more weeks where the only thing to look forward to was that martini that Sam made.
Sam. He'd have to leave Sam. He'd have to leave Sam, and the baby whose microscopic heart he'd only just heard beating a few hours ago. Oh, God.
But with this job, he'd be guaranteed the ability to provide for both Sam and the baby, forever. Wouldn't it be better for the baby to never see his father, if he had a roof over his head and clean, new clothes to wear?
The memory of Sam's body pressed up against him intruded on his conscience. Could he live without that feeling ever again?
Could he justify letting Sam go cold and hungry because Logan was too selfish to do the right thing?
"That's a mighty generous offer of you, Mr. Utkin. I have to admit that I haven't seen enough of Maine to get all that attached." If he didn't close his eyes, he wouldn't have to remember that bike ride out to Georgetown. "I'll go tell the staff."
Utkin gave him a cold smile and handed him an offer letter, just to prove his good faith. Then he turned around and left the restaurant, turning the "open" sign to "closed" as he went.
There weren't any customers inside to care.
Logan called the few staff members who weren't already there to come into the shop. One or two balked, but he insisted and they came in. While they waited for the rest, he told Kaylee to go ahead and shut the kitchen down.
When the staff was assembled in the dining room, Logan took a deep breath and looked at his employees. "Look," he said, when he finally found the words. "This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. I just got a visit from Mr. Utkin, the primary partner from our bosses at New England Restaurants. I think we've all seen the writing on the wall for a couple of weeks now, but it still hit me like a ton of bricks when he told me that we were shutting down the trattoria. Effective immediately, he told me."
Logan closed his eyes and listened as the workers cried out in dismay and disbelief. He let them get their feelings out. "You'll be paid through the end of the week. You can take whatever food or booze you want. I have to sell the rest of the stuff, the pots and pans and crap. You're a fantastic bunch of folks to work with and seriously, I want you all to stay in touch. I'll give you all references so glowing you can see them from space." He almost choked on the lump that rose in his throat. Space made him think of Sam, who he was going to have to leave soon. "I'm so, so sorry to have to do this to you. You all made a serious commitment and we did not deliver. Believe me when I tell you that no one — no one — wishes that there could have been a better outcome here than me."
He shuffled back to his office, head down, and placed calls to all of their suppliers. They didn't need any more deliveries.
Kaylee stormed after him, but she kept her mouth shut until she got into the office with the door closed. "God damn you, Logan. God damn you."
Logan hung his head. "Kaylee, you know damn well that I didn't have anything to do with that decision. I found out about it when Utkin walked into my office. I mean, yeah, things have been pretty bad in terms of receipts, but I was hoping that they'd be willing to change our format. I didn't think that they'd shut us down right before the holidays."
She crossed her arms across her chest. "Oh, but you're still getting paid, aren't you?" She reached out and grabbed the offer letter off of his desk. "Yeah, that's what I thought. I moved up here, I followed you, for you. Not for New England Restaurants, but for you. I thought you were better than they are." She pointed at the NER plaque on his wall. "I've been here for two months, I know exactly two people other than you, and I'm going to be stuck with no job and no connections right during the holiday season. How do you expect me to get by in a strange city?"
Tears rolled down Logan's face. "I don't know, Kaylee. I don't. I didn't make this choice! I didn't say, 'Shut this place down and give me the Hacienda.' I want to stay here in Maine and make this work." He took the offer letter out of her hands and put it back on the desk. "I don't have a choice."
"Of course you do." She snorted. "You could tell them to go to hell."
"And then how do I support the baby I have on the way, huh?" Logan slammed his hand down on the desk. "Someone has to take care of that baby, and that's my job. You think tending bar pays enough to pay for day care? You think that tending bar pays enough for the damn hospital stay? You think that tending bar is going to keep a roof over their heads? Someone has to do those things, and that has to be me."
"And who the hell is going to keep them safe while you're gallivanting around high on your own sense of self-sacrifice back in Connecticut, huh?" She jerked her head up and stomped one foot. "Don't you kid yourself for a minute, Logan. If you wanted to stay here, you would find a way. You're desperate to convince yourself that you're more like Utkin than like us lowly, dirty people. Well, I'm convinced now." She stomped out of the office and went to go pick over what was left of the expensive ingredients she'd ordered.
Logan sat in his chair and waited until the rest of the staff had left. He wanted to go grab some of the food f
or Sam, because it shouldn't go to waste and no one deserved tasty treats more than his omega. At the same time, he knew that each and every one of those now former employees had heard Kaylee's outburst. He couldn't face them, so he waited until the sounds of activity ceased.
There wasn't much left, except for booze. Logan filled up the trunk of his car with bottles of expensive liquor and high-end wine, and then he sat on the bumper. The offer letter sat in his pocket, burning like a brand against his chest.
He had to go and tell Sam. It was the last thing that he wanted, but the only thing that he could do. It was the fair thing, the right thing.
He locked the car behind him and went into the bar. Kaylee sat at the end of the bar talking to Silas. She turned her head roughly away when she saw him. She'd get over it eventually, or so he hoped. Maybe she wouldn't, though. Maybe she'd just seethe and hate from Maine. It wasn't like he was coming back.
Tonight was Sam's night off, but he sneaked behind the bar to fix Logan a martini. His face was pale and his eyes were red, and a knot formed in Logan's stomach. "I take it you heard."
Sam nodded. "I can't say I'm surprised, you know? You've been telling me some of the troubles you've been having, and I told you from the start that a place like that wasn't going to fly here." He blinked rapidly, and Logan realized that he was blinking back tears. "So. Connecticut, huh?"
Logan choked back a sob. "Yeah. It's a raise, with district manager guaranteed in two years. Plus, like, the easiest joint to manage in their entire portfolio. I'd get actual days off."
Sam managed a shaky smile. "It's everything you ever wanted."
"Except you. And the baby."
Sam pulled back. "Yeah, well. Fairfield is a little far for visitation." He swallowed. "I'll see you around, Logan." He walked over to the stairs and headed back to his apartment.
Logan watched him go.
Chapter Eleven
Sam retreated to his apartment and flipped the television on. His entire body felt numb. He'd known, in his head, that Logan was going to leave. There was nothing to hold him to Maine, for crying out loud, and it wasn't like the trattoria was ever going to last in this town. There was no possible outcome for their relationship that didn't involve a split, eventually, but Sam hadn't expected it to come like this.
Siena hopped up onto the couch. The cast was off by now, although Sam still hated to think of her putting weight onto her broken leg. She crawled into his lap with her huge body, understanding his need for comfort in her little doggy way, and he patted her head and sides without registering the movement.
Sam hadn't expected to lose Logan so soon. He hadn't expected Logan to defect on the same day that they'd heard their baby's heartbeat. Damn it all, that was their baby! He'd seemed just as awestruck as Sam was. He'd been captivated by the sound, overjoyed. Why would he be so willing to just… take off to Connecticut?
Anger flared in Sam's chest then. Sam could understand Logan's fears about money, and about losing his livelihood. What kind of alpha seriously prized money over his family? What kind of alpha honestly prized social standing, and a country club membership, over knowing his child? Over protecting his omega?
Silas had been right. Over all of these years, Silas had been right. Sam hadn't exactly doubted his older brother when he'd told him that those kinds of people, the yuppies and the country club set, were soulless people who should never be trusted, but Sam was more willing to see good in everyone. No more. This whole debacle with Logan proved that no one should ever turn their back on anyone in a suit.
Underneath the anger lay the hurt, a burning kind of agony that Sam was sure would set the whole building on fire. What was it about him? He'd never been enough for anyone but Silas, and that was probably more of an obligation for Silas than anything else. Why could Sam never be enough to keep someone around? Mom — well, he couldn't exactly blame her for dying. Dad had just taken off. He might still be out there somewhere, but it wasn't here. He probably had a whole new family out there somewhere, with kids who weren't freaks. None of the fosters had been interested in keeping him for more than a few months.
Even Foster Family Five, who had been so very keen on teaching him how to be a proper and good little omega, hadn't planned to keep him around once he learned his lesson.
What was he thinking about, having a kid? The kid would throw him away too, once he figured out that his father had bailed and that Sam was the kind of trash who no one wanted. He should give the baby up for adoption, like Logan had said in the first place. He couldn't take care of someone who was going to take off as soon as it figured out what was really going on.
Silas found him like that hours later, still buried under the dog with big huge tears rolling down his cheeks. He took one look at his brother and shook his head. "Want me to go stab him?"
Sam laughed, even though his heart was breaking. "No. You'd be the first suspect."
"True. Although maybe not. It's not like he's likely to have told anyone." Silas got down on the ground, so he could meet Sam's eyes. "Kiddo, this is not your fault. Well, I mean you decided to sleep with a piece of crap. That's on you, but I've slept with some real winners in my day too so I can't hold that against you. But him leaving has nothing to do with you. He'd have done it no matter what."
"If I were worth it, he'd have stayed." Sam slouched down, earning an unhappy sound from Siena.
"Nah. A guy like him, nothing would be worth it. He doesn't have goals that include other people. He makes noises about how he wants to be able to support you and the kid, but he's full of crap. He's too smart to not figure out that you don't need his money." Silas grabbed Sam's hands. "He just is. He makes those noises about supporting you and all that, but at the end of the day he never had any intention of doing right by you. Everything was always about money, and about his personal goals. Not about you or any other partner."
Sam looked down at the dog's ear and scratched gently behind it. "I should have been enough to bring him around. It's biology, Silas. Alphas and omegas, we're supposed to be beyond all that. Like…" He looked up at the ceiling to think of an example. "It's the pheromones. I'd never have thought about some yuppie, but I caught his scent and it was game over. And I thought I'd get it out of my system, maybe sleep with him once and get over it. No dice. I couldn't get over it. But I guess it must not always be mutual, because he just walked right in and told me about that dream job and it was just…"
Silas nodded. "Well, that's because he sucks, Sam."
Sam laughed in spite of his tears. "New rule downstairs, okay? We have a dress code. No one wearing a tie gets admitted."
"Sounds good to me." Silas rubbed his hand on Siena's flank, and she rolled over to let both brothers rub her belly. "I'll make the sign before I go to bed."
"He didn't even ask me to go with him." Sam sniffed. "He sat there in that appointment, and he listened to our kid's heart beating, and he pretended to be all enthralled, and then he walked in here and started talking about how he'd get actual days off." He wiped away tears. "That was more important than his kid." Sam bit his lip. "My kid," he changed, as a chill took hold in his chest.
Silas' hand paused on Siena's belly, but just for a second. "Your kid, huh?"
"Damn straight." Sam set his jaw. "I'm done being sad about him. I'm done thinking about him. He's a waste of time. Family is everything, the most important thing. If he can't understand that, and put the right value on his own damn child, then I can't afford to waste more energy on him." He frowned. "I'm still keeping the baby. I'm nervous about that. I still think the kid's going to up and leave, just like everyone but you."
"Ah, kid." Silas turned his face away.
"I have to take that chance. I don't want this kid to feel like both parents abandoned him." Sam bit the inside of his cheek. "I've made mistakes, but I'm not going to let them define me."
"Well, that's the spirit." Silas stood up. "First things first, though. You need sleep. Come on, little brother. You and me, come what m
ay." He held out a hand to Sam.
Sam took it and let his brother guide him to his room. Siena followed, and Sam lay down and went to sleep.
Kaylee showed up at the bar the next day. A small part of Sam recoiled. Kaylee had been a good friend to Logan, and right now Sam didn't want anything that reminded him of his ex. At the same time, Kaylee had been screwed over by the trattoria closing down just like the rest of them, and she was probably going to be family soon enough. He helped set her up on the bar's network to try to do some job hunting and did his best to seem like his usual friendly self, because none of this was Kaylee's fault.
Logan showed up at around five, like any other customer. Silas hopped over the bar in one swift, graceful move and blocked his ingress. "Sorry, buddy," he said, with a cheesy, insincere grin. "New policy. No jackets, ties, or dress shoes."