His Broken Angel: Heaven’s Ballroom - Book 2

by Bates, Aiden

  “Yes, darling, and the change of date to boot. I had to have several long talks with my lawyer this week, I’m afraid.” He crossed himself, eyelashes fluttering as he closed his eyes. “Thank the good Lord for decent prenups.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Chester.”

  “Oh, pish. Don’t be.” He unfurled his white cloth napkin with a flourish and laid it across his lap. “Incidentally, it was Alphonse who convinced me to move our accounts over to Hayward, so you’re in luck. You’d better give me one hell of a pitch before the California rolls arrive.”

  I smiled. “You hate California rolls. I ordered the yellowtail sashimi to start.”

  “Mm. So you remembered. Good boy.”

  “As for my pitch…I hate to pry, Chester, but it’d be a hell of a lot easier if I knew why you decided to pull out from Sterling in the first place.”

  He laughed. “From my understanding, Sterling’s usually the one who pulls out in the relationship—pardon the vulgarity, of course.”

  “I think he’s more of a condom man, actually.” It felt good to rib on Sterling a little—considering that he was one of the factors that had forced me out here to LA to begin with. “Doesn’t really answer my question, though.”

  Chester rolled his eyes and took a sip of water, patting his lips dry. “Hayward branded himself a family man—just as Alphonse and I were thinking of adopting, no less. At the time, it seemed like a better match. Now, of course, it seems silly—so do give me a good reason to throw him out on his ass.”

  I took a sip of my own water at the exact wrong time and nearly spat it out across the table. “Hayward? A family man? Please, Chester. That man’s only family is Jack, Jim, Johnny and Jose—and they live in glass bottles in his liquor cabinet.”

  “Ha!” Chester thumped the table with his fingertips so hard, it made the water tremble. “Well, be that as it may—you can’t pretend that you boys at Sterling are much different. Apart from that Griffin fellow, there’s not a settled man between you all. You can understand why Hayward’s argument was…convincing, anyway. At the time.”

  “Settled…maybe not.” Just like that, I saw my opening—and I jumped on it like a wolf on a wounded deer. “But when it comes to being unlucky in love, I think you’ll find that we have more in common than you’d think.”

  “Is that so?” Chester leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “Goodness, Nathan. Tell me more.”

  I laid my napkin over my own lap and drew my mouth into a hard, thin line as the yellowtail arrived. “Ah…it’s nothing. Not that you’d want to hear about anyway, I’m sure.”

  My eyes flicked up at Chester’s soft, watery browns, which were widened with interest.

  Just like that, I had him.

  And for once, I wouldn’t even have to lie when he pressed me to spin the tale.

  “Don’t tease me, darling. Go on, then.”

  “Well,” I began, plucking a piece of sashimi from the tray. “It all started with an angel, believe it or not.”

  And just like that, the story spilled from my lips. Seeing Damon at the club that first night. My confusion—why the fuck didn’t he want me? I was the Alpha no man could resist—what the hell was I doing wrong? The flurry of our romance—from study buddies to casual dating to the morning after we’d woken up in bed together. The radio silence I’d had from Damon ever since.

  “You poor thing,” Chester cooed. “So you think he doesn’t believe that you’re out here trying to win back the favor of little ol’ me?”

  “I don’t know what he thinks,” I admitted. “But judging by the one modicum of communication I’ve had from him, I sure don’t think he fancies me anymore.”

  Chester pursed his lips. “You know, you Alphas are all so silly and stoic about these things. Look at me—I cried the whole way over here! Had to run to the bathroom before I’d let the waiter bring me to your table so I could wash my face and pull myself together! And here you’ve been, just sitting here like this hasn’t been eating you all up inside.”

  I shrugged. “Guess we’re taught to act that way. You Omegas don’t know how nice you’ve got it—there’s no social stigma working against you when you’re all emotional.”

  “You know what would win him back,” Chester said, a wild look lighting up in his eyes. “Something big. Bombastic! Fireworks declaring your love for him, shooting up into the night sky!” He paused, narrowing his eyes at me. “You have told him you love him, haven’t you?”

  “Well…” My collar suddenly felt all too tight around my neck. “I almost did,” I admitted. “But…I don’t know, Chester. It didn’t seem like the right time.”

  Chester shook his head, tutting softly. “Silly thing. But you do love him, don’t you?”

  I swallowed hard. Here I was again—the words were there in my heart, but I was having the hardest fucking time getting them up into my mouth.

  “I do,” I said finally. “But…Christ, Chester. The way he’s acting now, he must hate me. I’m not really sure how to recover from that.”

  Chester sighed, examining a piece of yellowtail between his chopsticks before drowning it in soy sauce and popping it into his mouth. “You know, if anything could’ve saved my marriage to Alphonse—other than, of course, him gaining the ability to keep that diminutive prick of his out of that valet’s ass—it would’ve been a little more passion on his part. You silly Alphas—you don’t have the hormones rushing through your veins that we Omegas do. You’re going through life like idiot cavemen, stumbling around in black and white. Meanwhile, the rest of us are seeing the world in vibrant Technicolor—feelings and hopes and dreams and longings, swirling all around us like a carousel in the night.”

  I blinked as Chester basked in the success of his own poeticism. I’d never thought of it like that.

  “So you’re saying I should…show him how I feel?” God, those words sounded stupid coming out of my mouth. The fact that I needed to ask at all seemed even more idiotic—of course, if I’d cared about Damon, I should’ve done a better job of reassuring him that I did.

  “I’m saying you should go back to New York with a big ol’ grand gesture on your mind.” Chester whipped out his phone, typing away at it smartly before he placed it down on the table. “I’ve just emailed your boss to let him know that things are amicable between Sterling Enterprises and the Mornington fortune again. That should see you off just fine.”

  “Thank you, Chester. That…that does mean a lot.”

  “Oh, save it, darling. I’m embarrassed that I’ve caused you this much grief by dragging you all the way out here. Besides—Hayward was Alphonse’s man. Between you and me, he gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

  I laughed. “He, ah…does tend to have that effect on people.”

  “Well, good riddance then.” He smiled across the table from me, suddenly coy. “Do you know how you’re going to win your boy back? I’m dying to hear how this sweet little love story ends.”

  I leaned forward, pinching the bridge of my nose between my fingertips. “Honestly, Chester…I’ve got no clue right now.”

  “It ought to be something special for him,” Chester pointed out. “Something that only he could want and only you could provide. That’s how they do it in the movies, you know.”

  All that raised for me was more questions, though. What did Damon want? I’d spent so much time guessing and assuming at how to get him to warm up to me, I’d never bothered to ask.

  Maybe Chester was right. We Alphas had some serious communication problems—ones that I’d need to remedy, and fast, too.

  “Actually…” I said softly, thinking back to all the snooping around I’d done on Instagram that first night. “Now that you mention it, I think I might have just the thing.”

  “Mm. Lay it on me, darling. You know I’m dying to hear it.”

  “It will involve breaking and entering,” I said slowly, my lips curling into a smile.

  Chester gave a hungry grin. “Oh, that’s delicious.
”

  “A little theft,” I added.

  “Even better.”

  “And depending on who’s around…maybe even a fistfight.”

  Chester howled with laughter, thumping his hand on the table so hard he vibrated his chopsticks right off of it. “Nathan, darling, this boy isn’t going to be able to resist you. I’ve just got the strangest feeling that this is all going to turn out just fine.”

  18

  Damon

  I rapped my knuckles gently on the door of Foster’s office. As dancers, we didn’t come up here often—and when we did, it was usually because something was wrong.

  It was a fact that I heard in the weariness of his voice as he called out, “Come on in,” through the frosted glass window of the door.

  Foster Collins was a handsome Omega—even when he looked like he hadn’t slept in days. In the pictures of him on the walls backstage, candid shots and images of the Ballroom’s early days, he was about ten years younger, but he hadn’t lost any of his looks with age. If I looked half as good as Foster did at thirty-five, I’d be luckier than I deserved.

  He gave me a long, tired up and down look as I came to the chair in front of his desk. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

  I eyed the soft leather of the chair, biting my lower lip. Foster didn’t do bullshit—but if I said what I was about to say out loud, I knew it would suddenly all feel far too real.

  “What isn’t wrong?” I countered with a scornful little laugh.

  He sighed, then nodded to the chair. “Take a seat.”

  I folded my hands over my lap and stared at them, unable to meet his gaze. We’d all gotten the Talk from Foster when we first signed on at the club. Use condoms. Use birth control. Morning-after pill for mishaps and be more careful next time. And yet…here I was anyway.

  “I’m…I’m so sorry, Foster. I’m pregnant.”

  He laughed humorlessly, turning back to his paperwork. “No shit.”

  “You can tell?”

  “Your pecs swell up any more, they’re going to pop. They sore?”

  I ran a hand over my chest, feeling the tenderness in the muscles beneath my shirt. “Yeah. They’ve been aching for about a week now.”

  “Boyfriend? Baby daddy?”

  “Somewhere on the West Coast.”

  “He know yet?”

  “I don’t know how to tell him,” I confessed. “I don’t even really know how to talk to him right now, actually. Things got…weird.”

  “Which is why you’re here in my office right now.”

  I scratched the side of my face—anything to do with my hands to distract me from how awful it felt to admit how alone I was in all of this. “I guess so, yeah.”

  Foster’s pen zipped across the bottom of a paper as he signed it, then stacked it into a pile with a dozen others. “Big life change, pregnancy. You planning on keeping it?”

  I nodded gently. “I…I don’t think I could handle the alternative.”

  “Good man. Taking responsibility for your actions. Says a lot about you.” There was a long pause, a pause so long that it forced me to look up at him. When I met his steely blue gaze, I realized he’d done it on purpose. He wanted me to look at him for whatever he was about to say next. “Look. It’s scary. I get it. But you’ve got friends here, Damon. Better than friends—we’re a weird little family, aren’t we?”

  I laughed. “Weird little family sums it up pretty well, yeah.”

  “You’ve got your sisters. They’ll be excited to find out they’re going to be aunts.”

  “If I ever get up the guts to tell them, yeah.” My sisters had always talked about wanting little nieces and nephews running around at Christmas and Easter time—I’d just always assumed they’d been talking about getting them from each other. Not from me. But Foster was right—they’d be thrilled. Worried, too—but happy to welcome a new member to the family either way.

  “And you’ve got your scholarship. Schools are usually willing to make allowances for single parents—”

  My throat seized up suddenly. “Actually…”

  Foster raised an eyebrow. “What?”

  “I lost my scholarship,” I admitted, pulling the letter out of my back pocket and sliding it across his desk. “Found out this morning.”

  “Bad grades? We could’ve given you more time off to study.”

  I shook my head. “My grades were good. My morals, apparently, aren’t quite up to par though. One of our clients…” I shook my head again, like I was trying to shake off the shitty reality of my situation. “Found out I worked here. Turned me into my finance board. Guess all of our fancy donors didn’t want their tax write-offs to go to someone who was dancing to pay for rent.”

  Foster’s lip pulled back in a sneer. “They didn’t want you to work for your rent money, they should’ve given you more to cover it. Can’t stand rich assholes like that.”

  “So…” I looked at Foster’s desktop again, tracing the grain of the wood with my gaze. “I guess I’m just not sure what to do now.”

  Foster took a deep breath, leaning back in his chair. “Well, first off—let me write to your scholarship board. See if I can’t convince them that we’re a classier establishment than they’ve been made to believe. You’re a performer, Damon. Not a whore.”

  I ran my hand over my belly. “Might not be so easy to get them to believe that once they find out about my…condition.”

  “Your condition is perfectly natural. We’re Omegas, Damon. There’s no shame in your body doing what your body’s meant to do.” He said it so definitively, I almost believed it. “As for your rent money—don’t suppose you want to keep dancing?”

  I frowned. “I’m afraid it might be…weird. You know?”

  “I get it.” Foster pulled a sheet of paper out from the various piles on his desk and made a few notes on it. “I’ll adjust your schedule then. You can work the front, if that works for you.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah. Yeah, that would be…that would mean a lot to me, Foster. Thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. Once an Angel, always an Angel. Now…as for the baby…”

  I pressed my fingers against my abdomen, feeling for something that wasn’t even there yet. The baby inside me couldn’t have been any bigger than a sunflower seed—maybe even smaller than that. But still, I could feel it there. Like a little knot that had been tied up in the strings of my fate.

  “Adoption is always a possibility,” he suggested with a little shrug. “But if you’re intent on keeping it…you should talk to your Alpha, Damon.”

  I grimaced. “I’m not sure if he’s the family type.”

  “Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. Might be an asshole about it, might be thrilled. Either way.” Foster tapped his desk with the tip of his fountain pen. “He has a right to know. How he reacts will tell you a lot about where to go next. Right?”

  I bit my lip. It was that part that was making my pulse race and my world feel upside down. Knowing. Learning. Finding out that part of Nathan—the part that would determine whether we actually had any future together or not.

  “You’re right,” I finally said, nodding. “Of course, you’re right. I just—”

  Another knock sounded on the door behind us. I turned to see Carlos poke his head through it. But where I’d expected his eyes to land on Foster—some issue with the alcohol suppliers, maybe, or a problem with the new barback—instead, they landed on me.

  “Sorry, guys. Don’t mean to bother you. Bad time?” Carlos said.

  “Could be better.” Foster capped his pen. “What’s up.”

  “It’s…ah. Damon? When you’re done in here, mind coming outside for a second?”

  My brow furrowed in on itself. “What’s wrong?”

  Carlos tugged at his collar and laughed awkwardly. “Just—there’s an Alpha outside. Wants to talk you.” He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, then apparently thought better of it. “Maybe you’d best just come down and see for yourself
.”

  Foster nodded to me, and I rose, my stomach turning cartwheels so hard I was afraid it’d hurt the little life that was stirring in my womb. An Alpha. Here at the club. To see me. The way I saw it, there were two possibilities, and neither boded well for my nerves.

  Either it was the redheaded jackass from the coffee shop who’d gotten my scholarship pulled, come to gloat about how successful he’d been in fucking up my life…

  Or it was Nathan, finally returned from his little vacation in California, and I’d have to tell him about how I was about to fuck up his life.

  “Let’s just get this over with,” I mumbled as Carlos ushered me out the door and led me downstairs.

  As I went down to face whoever was waiting for me, my head felt floaty and light. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones—or maybe it was just some kind of divine calm washing over me, readying me to square up to my fears. In a way, I supposed, it couldn’t get any worse. I was already pregnant, without a scholarship I’d been working so hard at keeping, and in all likelihood, I was facing all of it alone.

  That was how the saying went, right? When it rains, it pours—but I’d already been standing outside in the thick of the storm without an umbrella for so long, I felt soaked through. It was hard to keep worrying about a little more rain when you were already dripping wet.

  “You okay, Damon? You’re looking a little…pale.” Carlos pressed his hand against my back gently, concern twisting his brow. “You know I can just tell this guy to fuck off, right?”

  I forced a smile. “No…no, whatever this is, I’ll deal with it. I’m okay. But thanks, Carlos. It means a lot.”

  “Holler if you need help, then.” He opened the front door of the club for me and lingered in the doorway as I exited it.

  But whatever I thought I’d be walking out into…

  It sure as hell wasn’t that.

  Nathan Garnet. He looked as good in the dusky lights of a New York sunset as he had in his apartment the night he’d knocked me up. Only now, he was sporting a little bit of a tan on his cheeks, his normally wrinkleless suit rumpled slightly from his flight.