Pheromonal: One Night With the Alpha novel Chapter 72

Chapter 72: Strange Warning

Our small group shuffles into the dimly lit establishment, the sound of clinking glasses and raucous laughter an assault on my introverted nerves. Mike, ever the gentleman, pulls out a chair for me at a high-top table. How chivalrous.

"Allow me," he says with a wink that makes my skin crawl.

I slide onto the seat, hyper-aware of Mike settling in beside me. His arm snakes across the back of my chair, a move so cliché I almost laugh. Almost.

"What’s your poison tonight?" he asks, leaning in close enough for me to catch a whiff of his cologne. It smells familiar. Like the kind of cologne half of the men in the office would wear.

Not enticing and unique like Logan.

Logan. The thought of him sends a pang through my chest. What I wouldn’t give for him to walk through that door right now and rescue me from this nightmare.

"I’ll have a whiskey. Neat," I reply, scooting forward until I’m perched on the edge of my seat. No accidental touching for you, Mike.

As more of our coworkers trickle in, the atmosphere shifts. Conversations bloom around me, a welcome distraction from Mike’s attempts at small talk. I nurse my drink, content to fade into the background.

"Did you hear about the shakeup at SED?" someone asks, their voice carrying over the din.

My ears perk up. Supernatural Enforcement Division drama? Now that’s worth listening to.

"Yeah, word is there’s some major conflict with the higher-ups," another voice chimes in. "Something about budget discrepancies and mishandled cases."

I take a slow sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slides down my throat. This could be interesting.

"I heard they’re doing a full audit," a woman from accounting adds. "Rumor has it they’ve found some weird inconsistencies in the books."

"Speaking of weird accounting," Mike interjects, apparently having given up on his attempts to woo me, though his arm remains on the back of my chair, "anyone else notice how messed up things got after Scott died?"

The mention of Scott’s name sends a chill down my spine. I grip my glass tighter, willing myself to stay calm.

"Oh yeah," someone else pipes up. "Like he was cooking the books or something, right? Numbers don’t add up all over the place."

My mind races. Scott, involved in financial shenanigans? It doesn’t track with the man I thought I knew, but then again, I had no idea the SED was interested in his family.

No, wait. Not the SED. Logan’s little "faction" was interested in him. But then why would the SED... Ah, forget it. Time to analyze later. I’ll just listen and absorb tonight, nursing my single whiskey.

"Maybe that’s why he got offed," a gruff voice suggests. "Pissed off the wrong people with his creative accounting."

The conversation devolves into wild speculation, each theory more outlandish than the last.

As the night wears on, the alcohol flows freely and tongues loosen. I remain quiet, absorbing every tidbit of gossip and rumor. It’s amazing what people will say when they think you’re not listening.

"You know," a slightly intoxicated coworker slurs, "I always thought there was something off about Scott. Too perfect, you know? Like he was hiding something."

Interesting.

"Yeah," another agrees. "And now all these discrepancies are coming to light. Makes you wonder what else he was into."

All eyes turn to me, and I feel the weight of their gazes. Nightmare fuel for any introvert. fɾeewebnoveℓ.co๓

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