One Night in Vegas (18+)|✔️

Chapter 10

Meanwhile...

A tall, slim man sat in the dark, curtains drawn against the warm daylight.

A glass of scotch hung from his fingers. "Hair of the dog," had turned into day two of his despair spiral.

He swirled the glass, the melting ice clinking in the silence.

The silence that wasn't going to last much longer.

His head snapped up as a knock rang from his front door.

"Go away!" Laying his head back, he stared at the ceiling.

His sensitive ears heard a quick series of clicks, and he muttered a curse.

The front door opened, letting a ray of light into the gloom.

"Boss?"

He groaned, "What part of 'go away' was unclear?"

The sunlight disappeared as the door closed. "The part where you ignored at least a dozen calls and messages and expected me not to show up."

"I'm wallowing – can't I wallow?"

Soft footsteps sounded, and the man's crisply dressed assistant walked into the living room, tucking away a spare key.

"Wow – okay, so this is what you're doing instead of being proactive?"

"'Proactive'? 'Proactive' is what I should have been on day one. If I'd been thinking at all I would have started searching immediately instead of waiting for her to show up at one of the events."

He rubbed his eyes. "Maybe if I'd gotten a jump start on looking, I could have interviewed the local rogues and ruled that out by day two."

His assistant stepped forward, "Boss..."

He shook his head, "Maybe, if I hadn't been a complete fucking idiot, I would have found her before she left town!"

"Boss-"

"She's a tourist, Cameron; she was just visiting – that's the only explanation left. That means she could be anywhere now! So, yeah, I've been wallowing – I fucked up!"

"Are you done?"

He glowered, "No."

"Well, too bad, because now is the point in this conversation when you shut the fuck up and listen."

Eyes narrowing, the man glared, "One of these days-"

"-I'm going to wise up and get a job that doesn't require me to babysit a grown-ass man? I know – I can't wait." Cameron's caustic tone dripped from the words.

Chastened, he looked down, "Sorry. I didn't mean it."

Cameron's voice softened. "I know." Clearing their throat, Cameron continued, "So, are you ready to listen?"

"Sure; go ahead."

"Okay, so, while you were, apparently, wasting an entire day pickling yourself, I was formulating an action plan."

The man glanced at the glass in his hand, grimaced, and then set it aside.

"Thank you. Also, please take a shower sometime soon – I didn't know somebody could smell this bad and still have a pulse."

"Noted. You mentioned a plan?"

"Right. So, it's not the most elegant solution, but it'll get the job done."

"What?"

Cameron heaved a deep sigh. "We start making calls."

"Calls?"

"We go state-by-state, calling every damn pack until we find her."

The man blinked slowly, feeling like he was finally seeing the light. A hope he'd thought lost began to bloom within him. "What if she's a rogue?"

Cameron shrugged. "We'll ask them to talk to their local rogues."

The man asked the question he hadn't dared to speak aloud, "Cameron, what if something happened to her? What if she's..."

"Stop it."

"But-"

"No, you stop that." Meeting his worried stare, Cameron spoke calmly. "Repeat after me: We're going to find her."

He swallowed, "We're going to find her."

"It's going to take a while, and you're going to have to be patient, but we're going to find her."

"Thank you."

"Happy to help."

"Okay – I'll go take a shower, then we'll head down to the office and get started."

"Uh, Boss?"

"What?"

"It's Friday evening – offices are going to be closed until Monday."

"Shit."

"Hey," Cameron shrugged, "we could have gotten started today if you'd bothered to come into work."

"Goddamn it..."

"Anyway, while you were busy wallowing, I put together a spreadsheet of the US packs – all of them - including contact info, alphas' names, broken down by state – we'll fill it in as we go."

"Have I told you lately that I appreciate you?"

Cameron gave the man a pointed stare. "You owe me."

"Name it."

"I want a new work phone and a new office chair."

"Absolutely."

"And I get to pick out exactly what I want. No arguments."

"None," he agreed.

"Okay then, get some sleep and I'll see you Monday?"

"See you Monday."

As Cameron left, the man stood, walking to the kitchen and pouring the watered-down remains of his scotch into the sink.

We're going to find her.