Rise and Pine

A lobotomy would have been preferable to the headache with which Shadow awoke. His eyelids slid like sandpaper over his corneas and his mouth had more in common with a desert than anything else. With a groan, he realized he was not in his bed. Shit.

A throw pillow had been wedged below his quills and one of the decorative blankets normally stored in the compartment inside the ottoman had been thrown over him and tucked tightly between his body and the couch back. He was wearing his clothes from the previous day and certainly hadn’t had an intimate moment with toothbrush recently.

What the hell had happened last night?

His memories were a fuzzy, blur, which concerned him greatly. He attempted to order his thoughts as he pushed himself to sitting. He’d been at the office, of that he was certain, even though it had been a Sunday, which in and of itself wasn’t peculiar. Why, though?

Right

The Prower Report.

What a fucking mess. The day had been a marathon of meetings. Legal, public relations, the technical team…Had he really committed to accusing another major company of criminal negligence? Don’t regret it. Don’t regret it! The decision was in past and he couldn’t change what had already happened. Focus on the future.

Remember why he’d steered his ship into the storm, Shadow commanded himself. Everything was for-

Amy! Where was Amy?

She had been here in his home. Certainly, he hadn’t imagined it? Shadow scented the air and found it perfumed with vanilla and strawberries. His headache eased and he smiled, calm settling over him. Amy had spent the night with him without some biological imperative smashing them together. That had actually happened!

Finally, he’d managed to perform one simple aspect of a healthy romantic relationship-!

Shadow’s smile melted and he groaned. Just like their first date, he’d botched their first evening completely. He’d fallen asleep almost immediately after getting home and on his couch no less, like some careless lost. Truly, he could not have been a worse host.

At least he had a fairly acceptable excuse.

Whatever was in the injection Dr. Quack had given him the previous evening had slammed into Shadow with the force of a runaway concrete mixing truck. He wasn’t certain of the exact formulation, but he was aware of several variations of the KLS Alpha blockers that had been deemed too potent for continual use, but had uses in exceptional cases.

Such as for delaying looming extreme ruts.

Initially the doctor had refused to prescribe Shadow anything. The CEO was already a live test subject for the daily use oral blockers and adding variables would muddle any data collected from him. Shadow explained that he understood the risks and the tradeoffs, but the fact of the matter was that his rut must be delayed for everyone’s sake. If Dr. Quack was unwilling to administer something to that end, Shadow threatened to go elsewhere, no matter how seedy or dangerous.

In the face of such emotional extortion, Dr. Quack agreed…with stipulations. Shadow would endure twice daily examinations with blood draws and dosages would be directly controlled by Dr. Quack. Shadow was made to promise that he would refrain from any other off label remedies no matter the side effects or outcomes as well. Fulfilling the agreement would be highly disruptive and time consuming – a commodity of which he was torturously short – but he coached himself that he only needed to make it through Saturday.

What Shadow hadn’t anticipated was the degree to which the treatment would affect him. He felt hollowed out, like someone took a snow shovel to his insides. As he sat silently on the couch, his usual morning energy was curiously absent. Shadow was a man of action and typically worked late and rose early. His emotions would likely be affected as well, he demurred, and the fatigue would be a further annoyance.

He could and would hold fast. Besides, he’d experienced similar medical sedation in the past.

Clinically, Shadow had a condition known as chronic hyperrugire. Ever since his second sex had presented not long after he turned sixteen, twice a year he entered into a state of aggressive, sexual mania. A parade of medical professionals had come to the conclusion, after many tests and examinations, that his body was functioning correctly. Shadow was just born this way.

Mother found his condition humiliating.

Father couldn’t have been prouder.

Over the years, Shadow had developed means to soften the impact of these episodes, often aided by his ever-loving sister and brother. At least until Eclipse presented as an Alpha as well and Maria was sold off like breed stock. Then, after a particular incidence with Eclipse, for years Shadow had had had to be sedated, often against his will.

And now, to place a cherry on top of the whole situation, he learned the previous evening that he had also developed a case of amoritis. Shadow hadn’t even begun to process that revelation. Something about if Amy didn’t love him back, he’d die like in some sort of trashy romance novel…Just another pain in his ass he had to deal with.

Eclipse, the lucky bastard, experienced a rather dull rut every other month. He’d disappear for a day, fuck his wives bowlegged, and be right as rain the next morning. Further, his women had all fallen into his arms with very little effort on Eclipse’s part, Aph via familial contract and Meri by the fucking grace of serendipity. Everything always just seemed easy for the second son.

So, it was no wonder he thought all Shadow needed was Amy and suddenly things would just magically be normal for Shadow.

Well, Eclipse was fucking wrong.

Shadow refused to place himself in the position to hurt Amy, physically especially. He couldn’t live with himself if he caused her to suffer. If Shadow had to live the rest of his life hiding his ruts, he would. If only so she would never know the depths of depravity of which he was capable to sink.

Still, Shadow wasn’t facing the issue lying down. KLS was only five or so years from publicly available rut suppressants, and he had access to every trial and test concoction in the meantime. Perhaps there wasn’t a cure for hyperrugire, but there sure as hell were medicinal stopgaps. Amy never needed to know how bad his ruts could be.

In the meantime, Shadow must be strong enough to resist her inevitable offer of assistance. Amy’s good-hearted nature would compel her to insist to help him through his rut, to make them ‘even’ somehow, no matter how little she may actually wish to. She simply did not know what she was offering to endure. It would take everything he had, but he would deny her as long as it took.

No matter how it killed him inside. No matter how it tore his soul to shreds. No matter how it would drive him insane.

Shadow would die rather than place Amy in danger. Especially when the danger was him.

But…what if she took the denial as rejection? What if by not allowing her to assist him, she felt he didn’t desire her, didn’t covet her more than life itself? Shadow pinched his eyes closed. Would he be able to suffer her disappointment? Was this just another form of harm? How was he to square this circle?

Lie. Whatever it took.

Maybe he could say he didn’t want her to participate until he’d Claimed her?

He cringed at the thought. That would be manipulative...he refused to be the sort of man that would pressure her into a commitment like that, Mother and amoritis be damned! Amy would allow him to Claim her at her own discretion, and he’d slowly die until then…

Shadow grimaced and covered his face with his hands.

Last night, he’d foolishly divulged that his rut was near. Being honest was the correct answer, but Shadow clung to the hope that Amy would never know about the monster he became in the clutches of his rut, of how his body dissolved into a feral demon powered by violent lust. Not mouthing off would have made avoiding the issue much easier. Don’t regret it. Don’t regret it. Accept and adapt.

He took a deep breath, trying to find some form of self-acceptance of his continued, incessant failures and missteps.

If she knew, she would leave him.

His breath caught and his chest tightened.

And Shadow wasn’t sure he could survive without her...he was already sick because he couldn’t have her enough.

He desperately wanted her in his arm right that second, if only for her scent to bring him a modicum of peace. He sniffed the air vigorously and drew her into him once more. The cloying anxiety eased, but was quickly replaced by a pernicious moroseness.

Maybe he deserved her departure after last night, leaving her to her own devices like that…Had she slept on the couch as well? He was centered along the cushions and a second pillow and blanket lay crumpled against one of the plush arms. Yes, like an idiot, Shadow’s lack of sense had led Amy to share a resting place such as this. Fucking idiot!

Where was Amy, anyway? Dear god, she might have already left, thoroughly fed up with his foolishness. His ear twitched at the sound of crockery clinking accompanied by the music of Amy’s laughter. The sacred noise commanded all his roiling thoughts to fade. Shadow pushed to his feet and followed the sound to the kitchen.

Woody was at the stove top, making breakfast as he had nearly every weekday morning of Shadow’s life. Amy sat at the large bar that walled much of the kitchen off from the dining area. Both had their backs to him, conversing, and didn’t hear his approach.

Shadow silently slid into the counter stool beside Amy. The sudden movement in her periphery made her jump. “Boo.” He said with a grin when she turned to him suddenly, her verdant eyes big and shining.

Amy’s face broke into an unabashed smile, her ears perking at the sight of him. Shadow’s chest swelled until he could barely stand it. Dear god in heaven, he knew he didn’t deserve it, but please allow him the privilege of waking up to that smile every morning. “Good morning!” Amy said cheerfully. Amen.

«Good morning!» The large beaver, gray fur threading through his coat, called over his shoulder as he waved a silicone spatula. «I will have breakfast ready for you very soon.»

Shadow smiled. «Speak so everyone can understand, if you please.» He didn’t really feel like being surprised or chastised about what Amy did or didn’t understand.

Woody chuckled. “As you wish, sir.”

Amy glanced between him and Woody, her brows raised.

“Thank you. A coffee, if you would.”

Woody nodded. “Anything for the mademoiselle?”

Amy blushed. “N-no thank you.” As endearing as her meek embarrassment was, with each instance, Shadow was growing increasingly aware of a dark hunger deep inside him. A shadowed lust to ravage the innocence into shreds. He shook the thought away with sharp twitch of his head.

“If you’ll excuse them, then, I will be just back.” Woody adjusted the nobs on the cooktop and left the kitchen. The house had a number of rooms with regulated atmospheres for storage of wines or other delicate commodities. Shadow had fitted the nearest one to maintain his collection of preferred coffee beans at the most desirable temperature and humidity.

Shadow turned to Amy and shook his head solemnly. “I must apologize for last night. I was…far more exhausted than I had expected to be. Did you sleep well despite my lack of hospitality?”

She smiled. “Well enough. Took me a bit to find the blankets…and then,” She chuckled at the memory, “when I was trying to find a way to turn the lights off, they turned off on their own!”

He hummed. “Yes, the first floor’s lighting is automated in such a way that they darken at midnight.”

Shadow cast his eye away from her face and down her form. She was garbed in a red, backless dress with white trim that accentuated her torso in ways that would have seen him harden if he wasn’t currently medically suppressed. Her quills were styled loosely and Amy looked put together far, far better than he. “You look lovely. I must seem doubly slovenly in comparison.”

Amy blushed and looked down at herself. “Uh, yeah, Nicole texted me. Apparently, there were some clothes my size here, just in case, she said.” Amy touched her chest. “New ones, too.”

This was news to Shadow. That woman! Nicole wasn’t made of blood and bone, he swore, but circuitry and electricity for how staggeringly perceptive and efficient she was regularly. “I-I hope everything was to your tastes.”

Amy slid from the seat and gave him a small twirl, the fabric lifting just enough for the tip of her tail to peek out. “I love it!” She stopped and slid her hands along her sides where they suddenly disappeared. “And it has pockets!” She declared excitedly.

Shadow wasn’t sure what to make of that declaration, but, then again, he wasn’t very knowledgeable on ladies’ fashion. “I am glad.” If it made Amy happy, then it made Shadow happy.

Woody returned and placed a steaming cup on a saucer in front of him. The corner of Shadow’s mouth rose in acknowledgement, but he did not take his attention off Amy. Without looking, he took the thin handle of the cup between his fingers and raised it. He took a long, slow whiff of the deep, rich aroma and sighed softly. For the first time that morning, Shadow felt like he could handle everything fate seemed to be throwing at him.

“It was kinda nuts trying to find the room they were in though. Nicole even sent me a little map she drew on a napkin or something. Your house is way too big.” Amy sat back down. “I have no idea how you could find anything.” She shook her head.

Shadow shrugged. “I grew up here. I suspect a level of navigational proficiency comes from experience.” He should send Nicole a thankful note. He touched his wrinkled pants pocket and found it empty.

With a jolt, Shadow’s hand flew to his opposite side. Where was his phone? He tried to summon a memory of having had it the previous day, but the order and clarity was muddled. Had he placed it in his suit jacket? Left it in his office downtown? “I appear to have misplaced my cellphone.” He grumbled. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

“Oh!” Amy shot up from her seat and entered the kitchen. Woody twisted and gave her a brief, curious look, before returning to his work. She opened a drawer and retrieved a cloth bundle. Approaching Shadow, she unwrapped the bundle, produced his phone, and placed it before him.

Shadow looked at the device, and then Amy, then the kitchen towel.

What?

Deciding he didn’t really want to know, he accepted his phone with a heartfelt thank you.

“Breakfast is served!” Woody announced, approaching them carrying two plates. He placed Shadow’s usual high protein platter before him and, for Amy, laid an elegantly presented stack of-

Fucking pancakes! His shoulders tensed minutely. What a failure that an endeavor had been. Never in his thirty-two years had Shadow been so humiliated by his own ineptitude as when he failed to cook breakfast for Amy. He’d even looked up instructions on his phone and still he just could not produce anything eatable.

Well, Woody was making up for Shadow’s failure in spades. “Oh my gosh, thank you. This looks so good!” Amy’s eyes lit up. The stack before Amy looked amazing. Three thick fluffy, perfectly circular cakes, golden from center to perimeter, rose above her plate. A snow of powdered sugar sprinkled and fine running river of maple syrup, marred only by a gathering of berries garnished by a sprig of mint from the green house.

Shadow expected nothing less from the old cook. Woody had followed the family from Avalon over two decades ago, one of the few members of their staff to choose to go into exile with them after his father’s betrayal of his mother’s family. Shadow and his siblings had been raised on the man’s cuisine.

The old beaver refused to retire. «I am already retired!» He had scoffed. «Feeding you is my hobby. One day you will make things interesting for me again by taking a wife and siring a platoon of children. Then we can talk about retirement.»

“Bon Appetit!” Woody said with a flourish and made his exit to allow them to eat in privacy, but not before giving Shadow a sly wink. He grimaced, but it was hard to be upset with the man who made sure he didn’t starve.

After taking a picture, Amy tucked into her meal. “Holy shit!” She exclaimed around a mouthful. She held up her hand to try to prevent any masticated morsels from escaping. “Oh my gawd, these are amazing!”

Shadow’s ears perked and he smiled. Amazing, she says? He had developed an idea. When he’d have the time to execute…well that was anyone guess.

They faded into an amenable silence, Amy enjoying her meal with a number of guttural mmmm’s that didn’t excite his lower half as much as he would have expected (but he wasn’t complaining – frankly he didn’t need any morning would or mourning wood). He ate slowly, more focused on relishing her contentment from the corner of his eye for the present.

Eventually, his attention shifted to business. As Amy stuffed her face (in an adorable way), Shadow skimmed through the utter torrent of notifications and missives infesting his phone. The stupid thing had been out of his hands for maybe twenty-four hours, but it had accrued thousands of notifications in that time and Shadow cared about at least a dozen of them.

Sorting the wheat from the chaff was going to be most of Nicole’s day, he was certain. He knew she’d been working late shepparding Amy around, so he was happy to see Nicole hadn’t already addressed his inbox. His mercilessly efficient personal assistant had to sleep sometime…right?

Shadow’s thumb stilled on a particular entry. Breezie had slid quite comfortably into his DMs, apparently sending live updates of her exploits in public opinion manipulation the previous day. He swallowed a forkful of omelette au fromage and gave the thread his full attention.

He knew Breezie was smart enough to not personally commit any prosecutable crimes, but leaving a paper trail wasn’t exactly kosher. Then again, the contents of Shadow’s phone would send a number of individuals to prison should it ever become publicly available. Father always seemed to find some new way to occasionally issue Shadow orders no matter how many states or provinces froze the man’s accounts.

Sighing through his snout, he opened his text thread with Breezie. It didn’t take much scrolling for his brow to crease first in confusion and then in concern. Who the fuck was the Martyr of the River? Was she trying to convince the City that Amy had died? sum of my best wrk, holy fucking scum-sucking god, Breezie bragged. reel tkl ur girl is hella cute hold on tight. th wrld is alwys hungry

Fuck! He needed to get that megalomaniacal bitch on the phone- No, there was no doubt in his mind that Breezie recorded their phone calls and would throw his words back in his face at the slightest provocation. He needed to confront her in person. No more paper trail.

We need to meet face to face. NOW, he sent her.

The reply came instantaneously and disappointingly. sry babe, across the drink pencil you in in the sprg mayb? She was enjoying his irritation. God almighty, Shadow might regret his decision to get Breezie involved if he wasn’t certain Amy would be otherwise be in grave danger.

This is fine. He’ll make it fine. How? Well, he’d have to come up with that later. One crisis at a time…

Oh great, he had a text from Rouge. You’ve got a lot of nerve dropping just a bucket of shit directly into my lap. If I see your ass, I’m going to claw your eyes out. Good luck with the Queen of Snakes. She’s going to unhinge her jaw and swallow Amy whole. Shadow’s throat tightened and he suppressed the urge to growl. Of course, Rouge would find some personal slight in the Prower Report release. God forbid the world revolve around anyone other than her.

Shadow had been counting on Rouge’s attendance for the Garden Party. He had less than a week before Irena arrived to every second a special hell for him. The more eyes looking out for Amy, the better. Fuck! Eclipse would be there with his wives, but Shadow had already asked so much of his brother recently…Perhaps this was why Eclipse felt free to push Shadow’s boundaries on occasion, to make them a little more even.

A follow-up from Rouge appeared with a cheerful chime. P.s – hey asshole stop fucking my photographer and send her ass to WORK! His brow arched. “Are you working with Rouge this morning?” He asked, fork poised half-way to his mouth.

Her fork clattered against her plate. “Rouge!” Amy cried and dug into one of the pockets she was so excited about. “I’m supposed to be starting my full-time job with her today.” She frantically thumbed her phone before paling. “Oh my god, I’m going to be late.” She shot from her chair. “She wants me to shoot a presser on the other side of the City!”

Shadow forced his face to remain placid. Inside, he was a mess of desperate urges to address Amy’s anxiety. He could do this. He could do that. She didn’t need to work for Rouge anyway. Amy should just stay here where she belonged. In the end he couldn’t help his fool self. “Is there any way I may assist you?”

Amy’s brow scrunched, her darkened eyes darting over her phone’s screen. “Even if I get the next train, it’s still two hours to get there.” She seemed to not have heard Shadow, which was probably for the best. She was upset enough as it was. Pushing her boundaries would just add to the fire.

Still, there had to be something he could offer her, if only to combat his growing urge to call Rouge and put a stop to all this nonsense. Yes, Shadow was acutely aware what a terrible interfering in such a manner was, but the inclination remained nonetheless. He needed some method of aid that allowed Amy to remain chiefly in control.

Hmmm, what about- “Perhaps I might lend you use of one of my vehicles?” He offered. Mon dieu, which one? Much of his collection were more ornamental than functional. They all worked beautifully, but were meant to be drive to be seen rather than to get from point A to B.

Amy gave him a funny look and Shadow knew he’d fucked up. How? God only knew.

“I don’t know how to drive.” She said quietly. Hmm, that might be an obstacle. “I don’t have a license.”

Shadow flushed. How could he have fucking forgotten that?! “Right. Forgive me.” Of course, he knew Omega’s were prohibited to operate a motor vehicle within the City’s jurisdiction. The terrible fact merely slipped his mind. “I believe Rouge has abolition of that foolish law as part of her platform.”

Amy nodded slowly. “Yeah, but it’s pretty low on her list of priorities.” Her eyes flashed in horror. “I don’t have any of my gear!” She slumped forward over the counter, laying her head on the breakfast bar and covering it with her hands.

That was…fuck, that complicated things further. He could…buy her a new camera? But would that be faster than her just returning to her apartment? Ugh, none of this would be a problem if Amy just- Stop it! It was Amy’s prerogative to determine her priorities, not him.

“It’s impossible.” Amy grumbled. “Rouge is going to be so pissed at me.” Shadow wasn’t looking forward to the tongue lashing he’d receive as well once Rouge discovered why Amy would be late. Rouge had already assumed, but the force of her fury would multiply once the bat received confirmation.

Amy’s distress was killing him. To combat the rising desire to release a piteous whine at his own powerlessness, Shadow offered, “At least allow me to take you to the train station.”

She looked up, her sorrowful face glancing up at him and her verdant eyes darkened. “But you’ve got to get ready, too, right?” Shadow looked down at his wrinkled pants.

“…Yes, that is true.” He should already be at the office. Bruno was probably waiting for him in the front courtyard and had been for some time. “But I can drive myself. Bruno can take you to where you wish to go.”

Amy frowned, mulling over her options. “That’s really the best option, isn’t it?” She sounded resigned. “But I don’t know what I’m going to do without my camera.”

Shadow looked at his phone. Now that he thought for a moment, he was sure Nicole would have a solution. Not, perhaps, a strictly legal solution, but a solution nonetheless.

“I don’t know if any of this matters…” Amy sighed. “Rouge only made me full time because I am with you.” Her forehead made a light thump as it fell against the countertop once more.

“That can’t be true.” Shadow snorted with complete conviction.

Amy shrugged. “It’s...kinda of true. After Blaze’s wedding, Rouge was really mad, but she did want to protect me from Geoffrey.” Shadow prickled at that, but forced himself to settle. Getting out of sorts over another Alpha providing for Amy wasn’t a good idea…but he also found calming himself much easier than normal. Perhaps that was a singular positive side effect to his experimental rut-suppressant treatment.

“She wasn’t going to pay me…but then she found out we’d…well…so…” Amy trailed off.

Shadow flushed. What was he to do? Call Rouge and have a row with her? And what? Ask her to stop compensating Amy for her labor? Ask her to fire Amy? No, no, no…As much as he wanted to fix something, anything to help Amy, there was really only one thing he could do: allow her to decide how she wanted to approach the problem.

However, that did not preclude him from speaking the truth.

“I don’t have a single inkling into how or what Rouge thinks, but I do know this for certain,” Shadow leveled a serious stare at Amy, hoping she could understand his sincerity, “Rouge does not suffer useless people. No matter your involvement with me, you earned your position, Amy. Through your hard work and dedication. Through your passion and your skill.”

Amy’s head rose and she smiled warmly. Shadow felt his tail smack the rungs of his chair back. He’d said the right words and, like magic, everything was suddenly a little bit better.

Then the enchanted bubble popped. He’d said the right thing this time, but what about the next time.

He frowned and Amy’s brow creased. She straightened. “Are you okay?” She asked, alarmingly perceptive of his internal shift. Dangerous talent that, he thought ruefully.

Shadow drew in a deep breath. “Could we…” How should he phrase this request? “Perhaps…discuss…” Amy watched him attentively as he fumbled his words, her eyes searching his face for minute tells. His brain seemed to be flush with molasses this morning. Better just be plain, than, rather than tripping over every syllable. “I am often consumed with the desire to lend you assistance even though I know you mayn’t wish for it.”

Amy frowned and looked away. “I know. It’s sweet, but, I just, well…” Her shoulders hunched as she subconsciously tried to make herself smaller. “It makes me afraid.”

His ears wilted. “Afraid?” Fear. Everything always seemed to circle back to fear…Stop it, he chastised himself for perhaps the hundredth time that morning. All this was still new for both of them. He needed to remember that. Shadow’s impatience and overeagerness was the enemy, not Amy’s very reasonable hangups.

“If I let you do this or the other for me, then I might let you help with the next as well. One thing after a another, eventually I’ll hardly be living my own life anymore and…that’s scary.” Her fingers picked at the side seam of her new dress. “A-and I know you don’t mean it like that!” She turned back to him suddenly, “All the help, you just want to do it because you’re kind, but I just…” She trailed off.

“Could we…talk about this?” Shadow asked. “Perhaps there is some agreement we could come to. I must admit that I have been anxious as well.”

Amy flushed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, Shadow.”

“No, don’t- I-“ Shadow was fumbling for words. He felt powerless before her. Disarmed. He’d held court over many a powerful individual in his personal and professional life, but Amy left him toothless. “I can’t help but desire to form the world into a shape to suit you. My thoughts are infested with optionality to solve your every difficulty.” Amy’s gaze fell to the floor. “But I don’t wish you to hide your frustrations and hardships either. So, perhaps, there could be some realms in which you’d allow me to do for you some small service?”

Amy gripped her hands together, worrying at the seam of the fresh set of gloves Nicole had procured for her use. “Yes.” She said and Shadow’s spirits lifted like a kite on a fresh gust. “Yes, there are. But could I think on it?”

“Of course.” Shadow answered breathlessly.

“And...I think, to start, if it’s not that much trouble…” She wouldn’t make eye contact with him. Shadow’s chest tightened. Was it really so difficult for Amy to ask anything of him? Maybe the difficulty did not originate with him, maybe this was how Amy conducted herself, never asking anything of the world. Why ask when the answer was always no? Yes, he wanted to scream at her, yes! He would do anything. “It’d be nice to have some help getting around. If, you know, it’s not too inconvenient.”

Thank god. “I’d be more than happy to.” Shadow felt a heavy weight life from his shoulders. He hadn’t fully conceptualized how stressful Amy’s navigation of the city had been on him, but its removal left a large, quickly filling in depression. “I will instruct Bruno to be at your disposal and if he is unavailable, Nicole can arrange car service for you.”

“Thank you.” Amy smiled softly at him. “It’d be nice not to have to worry about bus schedules anymore.” She looked at her half-finished breakfast. “I think I should be going. Rouge is going to give me an earful already, I know, but it’ll be so much worse if I don’t show up at all.”

Shadow chuckled. “Don’t I know it…”

He saw her out the front door and then turned to go upstairs to tend to the travesty that was his personage.

«Sir.» Woody drew his attention from below the foyer lintel.

Shadow cocked his head. This was extraordinary. «Yes?»

«Madame has, uh, been making requests of me for her event this weekend…» The old chef frowned. He was being placed between a rock and hard place. Shadow paid his salary now, but Irena had a habit of keeping hooks in every fish with the misfortune to pass through her net.

Shadow rubbed his face. He needed a shower and a fresh change of clothes and perhaps two or three more cups of coffee. Instead, he said «Let’s hear it…»

It was going to be another very long day.