Page 70 of Lilacs and Leather

“Good point. That would be the next move. And I don’t think I’d be able to intercept whoever she sends,” Jason concedes.

“It is going to piss Mom off when I send back that RSVP, and say I’m bringing a plus one,” I chuckle.

“Oh? You’re seeing someone?” Jason asks, perking up.

I smile to myself, cheeks heating. “Yeah. He’s… something else. I’m actually really excited for you to meet him.”

“Is he a beta?” he asks curiously.

“Um… alpha, actually,” I admit slowly.

“Lydi, we talked about this,” Jason starts.

“I know. But I can’t begin to tell you howdifferenthe is, Jace. He’s respectful, and kind, and understanding. And he’s just… really good,” I explain, finding it hard to put my feelings into words.

“I get it, Lydia. I really do. I just don’t want you to get hurt again,” Jason pushes with a sharp exhale.

“I told him about Darren,” I admit.

“And how’d that go?” Jason asks hesitantly.

“He’s coming with me to the wedding to make sure I’m okay. Not just physically, but, like, mentally and emotionally, too. I didn’t have to ask. He just offered,” I say with a smile.

“Well, that’s good. I’m glad you’ll have someone watching your back at least.”

“Mom and Dad are going to blow a gasket when they meet him,” I admit with a wide, petty smile.

“Yeah? Is he, like, a Falcons fan or something?” Jason jokes.

I roll my eyes. “No, but he thinks that all the stuff they taught us about traditional dynamic roles is a giant steaming sack of horseshit.”

Jason’s laugh is tense, and I sigh. I want Jason and Rhett to get along, but I can’t deny the little piece of my heart that is looking forward to watching my parents attempt Olympic-level mental gymnastics as they try to reconcile the otherwise perfect alpha with such progressive views.

“As long as he never puts his hands on you, then I can live with that,” Jason says at last.

I blush at the memory and residual soreness of Rhett very much putting his hands on me, and how much I enjoyed it. “Rhett would rather cut his hands off than strike out in anger at someone he cares about,” I reply, with no doubt in my heart.

“I like him already. Listen, I have to get back to work. But I just wanted to let you know that I’m going to have to cancel my visit next month. Dad has us lined up for this huge project and I can’t convince him to let me take the time off,” Jason says, words coming out in a rush.

I slump back, disappointment filling my chest. Jason only visited me once or twice a year, and he’d pushed off his visit twice now. He never mentioned where he was going on these trips, but my father is not a stupid man.

“Yeah, no, that’s okay. I’ll still see you at the wedding,” I reply, hoping my casual tone doesn’t come off as fake as it feels.

“Sorry, Lydi. Tell Miss Wila and Gabby I’m sorry, too, okay? We can try to set up a video call soon so I can meet this Rhett of yours,” Jason adds, and I can hear the genuine regret in his voice that makes me feel a little better.

We end the call with a promise to figure out a time we can sit down and do the video call, and I tip my head back to rest on the cushions. Jason wanting to make the effort to meet Rhett, even if he’s not thrilled about him being an alpha, is nice. I don’t need Jason’s approval, but my brother’s opinion means the world to me.

I’m debating the merits of trying to hunt down the remote for the TV when the elevator rings. I glance toward it and sit up as I realize it’s not just Rhett stepping out. He’s holding my backpack by the straps at his side, and he’s looking at his phone with his other hand. Mateo is next to him, pointing at something on Rhett’s screen as they exit. He’s not wearing the sports jacket anymore, and the sleeves of his white button-down are rolled up to his elbows. As they clear the door, my eyes catch on the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

Her dark brown hair is back in an elegant twist, leaving the angles and slopes of her neck and jaw exposed. Red painted lips are pulled down in a slight frown as she concentrates on whatever she’s reading on her tablet. Her makeup is flawless, smooth skin with not one line or wrinkle or pore to be found. Everything about her face screams elegance and class. She’s dressed in high-waisted black trousers and a red silk blouse that I have no doubt cost more than what I make in a month. Her heels clack on the marble floor as she enters the suite, and the air in my lungs disappears when she turns her stunning hazel eyes on me.

“Lydia! I wasn’t expecting you to still be here!” Mateo exclaims.

I flick my gaze to him, seeing his delighted smile and bright eyes. But my eyes are pulled back to the woman, and I find myself unable to form words while I’m under her inspection.

“Lydia, this is—”

“Alexandra St. Clair,” I gasp, eyes wide.