Finn

The moment I stepped into the restaurant I forgot about the odd look on Daniel’s face earlier.

Instead, I was swept away by the rustic Italian concept of the Michelin-rated; Veritas. It almost looked like I’d stepped foot into a sprawling castle somewhere in Old World Italy. The lighting was golden and mood-setting. There were flowering vines creeping along the cobbled walls. An ornate fountain in the center boasted a live-string quartet. The air was full of the sweetness of sun-ripened tomatoes and the richness of seared lamb and yeasty breads. My stomach gave an appreciative growl.

I’d never been to this place before, mostly because the waiting list was stupidly long. Getting into Veritas depended more on who you knew and not so much on whether you could afford it.

Whoever my date was tonight this was some next-level flex. I looked around for a person dressed all in black and wearing a red boutonniere.

Old and new money mingled here, and it was obvious who was who. New money flaunted their wealth. They wore the blingiest, shiniest jewelry and the latest on-trend brands. They were walking around with at least ten K on, but usually more. Old money looked like they shopped where the regular folks did. But even though they might look like Joe the Bagman, their threads were spun of Rumpelstiltskin’s gold and one holey sweater could cost upwards of fifteen grand. Thanks to Rory’s tutelage I could spot the difference.

I patted my clearance rack sweater down and hoped I’d not get kicked out before I spotted my date. Finally, I saw a person sitting cross-legged and alone at a table farther to the back. Her dark hair was cut in a loose flowing bob, the suit was fitted tight to her frame, and it was both a feminine and masculine cut. Her look of bored contemplation as she studied the menu, allowed me to feast on her profile. Sharp, yet soft. Androgynous was what I’d call her. She was the perfect blend of both and neither, giving her a unique look all her own.

My heart sped up.

I’d always been a sucker for looks. Yes, I knew that made me shallow but half of falling in love was visually enjoying what you saw every day. Our eyes suddenly met and hers sparkled with a hint of approval.

She stood, and damn was she tall. I stayed where I was watching her tall, lean yet muscular frame move with purpose in my direction. The red rose she’d had pinned to her lapel was now in her hand and she handed it to me the moment she reached my side.

I looked up to say thank you.

Holy hell she’s enormous. Like Wonder Woman come to life.

“You must be seventy-five,” she said, in a voice that sounded roughened by smokes and whiskey. I shivered before she leaned down and kissed me on both cheeks. It was a standard European greeting. There was a sophisticated air about her like she was a world traveler, I recognized it because Rory had the same energy.

“What? Oh, our match rating, um yeah.” I scratched the back of my head. “That’s me.”

She gestured toward our table before guiding me gently by my elbow towards it. “I hope it wasn’t too hard finding your way here, I know this is a bit of a distance from where you said you worked but I’m glad you were able to make it.”

I couldn’t keep my pulse from fluttering with each word she spoke. There was an accent. Slight, but there. I was a sucker for those.

Her eyes were a warm brown, and they were still looking me up and down unabashedly. Her chin rested lightly on her pointer finger. Her nails were painted a vivid blood red. They were long and stiletto-shaped.

Before I even got a chance to do anything, she reached for my black-folded napkin and placed it over my lap.

My brows twitched. Okay, that was… chivalrous? A little old-fashioned, but not terribly off-putting. I’d just not been expecting it.

“I hope you don’t mind. I like to pamper my dates,” she purred.

Really laying it on thick, wasn’t she? I gave a slightly nervous laugh.

“Um, no. I… I don’t mind.”

Her nose crinkled adorably like one’s would while looking at a bunny. Which I guess made me the bunny? Hm.

“You are cute, aren’t you. So, what’s your name, seventy-five?”

“Finneas Byrne, though everyone calls me Finn.”

She held out her hand for mine and as we shook, she said, “Angelique De La Vega.”

That sounded like money. Not that I cared one way or another, wealth ranked low on things I looked for in a life partner.

I smiled. “I thought you sounded foreign. Where are you from?”

“Spain,” she said. “A mountaintop village called Ronda.”

“Never heard of it,” I said, though genuinely curious because I’d always wanted to travel and see more of the world.

“It’s beautiful, we sit above a gorge. There’s nothing quite like the views there.”

She snapped her fingers and a waiter appeared as though by magic.

“Ahh,” I chuckled nervously again.

That’d been a little rude, no? But maybe that was how the wealthy did things and I just needed to take a wait-and-see approach before I made a snap judgment.

“That was fast,” I said lamely, realizing I’d taken a bit of a long pause. I didn’t want to kill the vibe already.

“May I take your drink order?” the waiter asked in a prim and proper tone.

“Oh, right. Lemme just take a look at that.” I reached for the menu.

But she instantly placed her hand over mine and without looking at me once, she said, “We’ll take a Casanova Di Neri Brunello Di Montalcino Cerretalto, circa 2010.”

“Wonderful,” he jotted it down.

“Ah,” I held up my finger. I wasn’t good with wines, but this time she didn’t just place a hand over mine, she shook her head at me.

“Also, we’ll take the Osso Bucco.”

“Mm. Lamb or veal?”

“Veal,” she said.

Oh no, not the baby! “I don’t—”

“Salads. No dressing. But a splash of balsamic for taste.”

“Aged or fresh?”

“Aged.”

“Wait!” I cried.

“That’ll be all,” she said, still without acknowledging me, and leaned back on her seat. The waiter never spared me a glance.

I looked at her, shocked by the arrogance she’d so blatantly displayed.

“Forgive me,” she said with a light laugh, “my friends give me hell for this way of mine. It’s just that I was a chef for years before I moved into the business side of things, I tend to do it without thinking. I do apologize, if you’d like something else, I can call him back.”

She was smiling affably and looking at me expectantly.

But I had tried interrupting her the entire time. Her excuse was weak, but she really was beautiful. Damn, me and my shallow heart.

Fine, I’d give her the benefit of the doubt.

I blew out a breath. Maybe she was just as nervous as I was?

“No, it’s fine. I’m allergic to wine though.” And I didn’t like to eat the baby versions of anything, period. But if she’d ordered she meant to pay. So, who was I to look a gift horse in the mouth? I waved my hand.

“Really, I’m fine. So, tell me more about Ronda.”

A smile stole across her plump lips and my heart once more began to race. She really was stunning. Like a fine work of art. If I’d been an artist, I’d have called her my muse, she just had that kind of look about her.

Most Alphas tended to have a certain quality about them that caused them to appeal to the masses. Whether they were beautiful in the truest sense of the word, or not, they almost always had charisma in spades. Which no doubt came from knowing they were the pinnacle of human evolution.

But Angelique was otherworldly gorgeous. The kind that didn’t come around every day.

She dazzled me with stories of her village growing up. Her dreams of becoming a chef, before then switching focus to business and creating a successful marketing conglomerate centered around the farm-to-table concept that’d steadily grown in popularity the last two decades.

She and I were both in marketing, just slightly different versions of it.

“Oh, that’s so interesting,” I said, taking a sip of my iced water, “I handled a similar campaign a few years ago and—”

“Yes,” she laughed, “it was funny. Did I ever tell you about my friend Ronaldo?”

I frowned. Angelique was smart. Sexy. Intelligent. But I was also starting to learn she was rude. Like really rude. She’d spent the last forty minutes or so just talking about herself, but the moment I’d tried to interject one thing about myself she’d pivoted and redirected it all back to… you guessed it, her.

“No,” I said sullenly, “wondering if she’d realize by my tone that I wasn’t happy.

“Oh,” she laughed, “well, lemme tell you…”

For the next ten minutes, I picked at my plate while I listened to yet more stories about herself.

What’d impressed me at the beginning was starting to grate on me now. Not that I was vain or anything, but it would have been nice if she’d at least pretended to be somewhat interested in learning about me too.

By the time dinner had wound down, I’d pretty much decided that the app had screwed the pooch big time with this match.

“This was a wonderful evening, Finn,” she said. “I hope we can meet up again.”

I gave a light laugh but said nothing.

“Oh, and just so that we’re clear,” she said, and I wiggled in my seat wondering when it would be okay to politely excuse myself for, well, forever.

“You should know I’m looking for marriage. Nothing else. My family expects me to breed soon, you see.”

I choked on the water I’d just been drinking and hacked indelicately as it dribbled down my chin. “Excuse me. What?!”

She thumped me roughly on the back and it was all I could do not hiss at her.

“I was determined to settle down with just about anyone that walked through those doors. I’m forty-five after all and I can’t continue to sow my wild oats. I’m assuming you joined Fate for that same reason, no?”

“Uh…”

I wiped at my wet chin with the back of my wrist. Was she serious right now? I kept waiting for her to laugh and tell me she was just kidding.

“It was a pleasant surprise to note you were not entirely unattractive.”

“Not entirely… are you for real right now?” I scowled.

But again, just as she had the entire evening, she didn’t seem to care what I’d said.

Okay, I had two options. Tell her to kick rocks and storm off. In which case she’d probably make me pay for my portion of this ridiculously overpriced meal, or… I could wait her out.

“You are also not entirely unattractive,” I said flatly, starting to wonder if she was as hot as I’d first thought after all.

“I want two kids. A boy and a girl. My family breeds nothing but alphas, so that’s obvious, though if we are unfortunate enough to make another Subgender we could always put them up for adoption, it’s not their fault after all. Though we absolutely cannot keep them. I will, of course—” the waiter approached with the check, I gripped my napkin tight in my hands, crossing my feet as I watched her drop her black card onto the plastic tray without bothering to look at the tab—“treat you well. We own two villas. One in the country. One in the city. Spain, that is. You will enjoy the finest luxuries and if you wish to maintain a dalliance on the side I do not mind, so long as you keep it quiet and out of the papers. Ah, what else…”

Holy hell, did Fate really think I was this shallow to have paired me with an Alpha like this? What the actual fuckity fuck was this shit?

The waiter returned with the check.

I smiled as I watched her sign the bill.

“You’ll be given a monthly stipend for any needs you’ll require and once you give me children, we can negotiate a higher stipend,” she said as she finished signing her name with a flourish. “After that, you can move into a separate villa, wherever you choose.” She shrugged as if none of it was her concern. “But, of course, I will keep the children.”

I chuckled, stood, and dropped my bag over my shoulder. “Can I talk now?”

She glanced at me, a bored look on her face.

“My god, you’re the shallowest person I’ve ever met. I wondered how in the hell someone as gorgeous as you could still be single. But now I get it. No, I won’t be signing my soul over to you and a piece of advice. Not that you asked, cuz…” I laughed, “You didn’t ask me shit all night long, but do yourself and the world a favor and don’t breed. Ever. Let your DNA just die with you. Okay!”

Then I twirled on my heels and flounced out of there. My cheeks blazing and my fingers curling by my sides.