“Look, I know how you feel,” he says, growing exasperated himself. “But with

the way my approval ratings are dropping right now in my pack, if word got out

that I was working as ‘just a sous chef’ for my ex-wife, people would go feral. It

would be a nightmare. For both of us.”

“You’re overthinking it,” I retort. “Trust me, Karl. We’ll keep your identity hidden. I

promise.”

He sighs deeply, a troubled look crossing his face. “Look, why don’t you just call

Adam? He could help you. And honestly, he kind of owes you.”

The name hits me like a bucket of cold water, instantly raising my hackles.

“Adam? Really, Karl? Is that your solution?”

Enter title…

He looks confused, taken aback by my sudden vehemence. “Why not? He’s in

the same field; he has the skills. You two know each other well.”

narrowed. “Adam and I could

We’re like oil and water. Plus, he

look if he[s

do you mean?” Karl asks, genuinely

if

or worse, that he’s got ulterior motives.

cater the Alpha party on

have any strings attached, Karl,” I say, staring at

understand.

lost, his

but then stops,

my hand over my face. The clock

time. I need to be at the studio by 9 at the latest,

me a solid 45 minutes to get there on

the help of

I have

say, taking a step closer to him, “do you remember that time four

we were still married? We had to prep for

in to help me last-minute, and we were

I say, pleading with him with my

at me, his eyes searching mine, and for a second,

recognition flash through his

I remember,” he says softly, dropping his eyes, “but Abby,

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