"You're going with me, Brand, no matter what you say." Chance said as he got down from the treadmill.
Brandon looked up from his computer with his glasses at the bridge of his nose. He wrinkled his brows in a frown, wondering why he was telling him he had to go with him. He was disturbing his work, and he was really busy.
"Why do I have to go with you, Chance?" he asked. "I'm busy as you can see." He said.
Chance nodded. "Yeah, right. I'm not blind. I can see that. I'm just wondering why you've buried yourself in work since the night before last. That's what I'm trying to know."
"Because I have work to do." He said.
"Oh, so it has nothing to do with the woman from downstairs?" he asked, racing his brows at him.
Brandon squinted his eyes at that. "How did you know that?" he asked, then he shook his head and hissed. "I shouldn't even bother asking you, because you probably followed me or something." He said.
"That's right, I did. If the woman you had your eyes set on has a boyfriend, then you should find someone else before your mother does."
Brandon nodded. "Yes, sure. I'll do that on my own time." He said.
"No, you'll do that when you follow me to the club tonight. You really shouldn't get coup up in here while I go out to have all the fun." He said, grinning.
"Wait, when did you say you're leaving again?" Brandon asked. He couldn't take any more of his annoying self.
"Not until we find you a wife, Brandon Rolex." He walked to the kitchen to get out a jug of cold water from the fridge. Getting a glass cup from the cabinet behind him, he poured himself some water and drank it.
Brandon sighed and said. "I think it's better I put an ad in a newspaper with a new number for them to call and set up an interview somewhere no one knows me." He said.
Chance dropped the cup and looked at his best friend. "That's not such a bad idea, but before you do that, let's go to the club. You might find someone, who knows." He lifted his shoulder in a shrug. "if that doesn't work, then we'll do as you've said."
Brandon knew Chance won't stop nagging him about going until he did, so he might as well just give in and go up to his room to get ready. "Fine. You win! I'll go with you so you can stop nagging my head off." He said.
Chance lifted the corner of his mouth in a satisfied smile. That was good, he thought and then he walked away from the kitchen when he was done to go upstairs to the guest room to have his bath.
They got to the club an hour later, and they went to the VIP section. There, it was less noisy, but with more pretty women around. They sat at the edge of the rail that was overlooking the general section, and Brandon just fiddle with his phone.
He was so busy playing a game he didn't see who was down there serving drinks to people.
Chance who was focused on the ground floor looked at the people around, squinting his eyes and trying to find the next person that would be extraordinary enough to catch his artistic attention. Maybe he would see someone like that who he would be able to commit to memory and paint them.
Soon, a woman caught his attention. She was wearing a white shirt and a pair of black pants. She had a small black apron around her waist and she had a tray in hand. He watched as she approached the bar to talk to the bartender. He realized she was working there as a waitress.
Why wasn't she put to work in the VIP section anyway?
He looked around him in the VIP section to see a waiter walking around with an empty tray in his hand. He looked at him pointedly until he was able to catch his attention and then he beckon to him. The man nodded his head and started towards him.
At this time, Brandon had stopped playing whatever game he was on his phone and was not focused on him with a frown on his face to see if he could tell what was going on.
When the waiter got to him, he said. "Can you tell that woman," he looked down to where the woman was standing but she wasn't there any longer. He looked around, getting off a bit from where he sat, but she was nowhere around. He sighed and told him he could leave. There was no way he would delay him or obstruct him from his duty.
"What's going on?" Brandon asked him.
Chance shook his head, contemplating on whether or not he should tell him about it. He had his own problem, but it didn't mean he should leave him out of the loop. Smiling, he said. "I saw someone a couple of moments ago, but as I was about to send someone to get her, I couldn't see her anymore."
Brandon shook his head. "Oh, I see!" he said, even though he didn't see anything other than a man who was hungry and starved to have sex with a woman. Chance was like him, a man without a mate, but the difference between them was that his mate rejected him to marry someone else a long time ago. According to her, she couldn't cope with his ways, always never settled and all.
He had tried to talk to her, talk to him as well, that it was better to compromise for one another than to completely reject themselves, but she had insisted and that had been that. Brandon was the alpha of the Night Wind Pack, and his father before him, and then his father, and it had been like that for generations, but it had never happened that a mate would reject another in the history of his pack. It had never happened as well, that an alpha's mate will die, or fail to be protected, but it had, so he already knew he had failed in some area as an alpha, but never once had he failed as a friend, a son, a grandson, or a leader of both his pack and his company.
That would never happen.
Seeing his best friend now talking about a woman he had sewn, he was sure that she must have picked his interest, just as the woman from the fifth floor of his building had done the same.
He sighed and shook his head, reminded that by tomorrow morning, he would be putting an ad out for his ridiculous finding of a wife. He made a mental note to get his lawyer to handle that from his end. That would be most appropriate. He had other better things to do than to busy himself with finding a woman to live with because that would mostly be what they did together.
Aside from that, he needed to make sure his mansion back in the country was ready with the staff for when he would bring his wife to be and all. He would have someone handle that as well. Perhaps, it would be better if the design of the house was changed so he wouldn't have to see Ashley everywhere he went anymore.
At the thought of Ashley slipping into his mind, he bit his lower lip and clenched his fists beside him. This wasn't supposed to be happening here, that normal shake of his body every time he thought of her, that crazy squeeze in his chest that felt like it was going to end him, that slamming headache at the back of his head. He should be blaming Chance for bringing him here, but that would be childish. He had only wanted him to come to have fun after all, so he couldn't blame him that this was happening.
This shouldn't be happening right here. He knew that there were humans here, as well as werewolves and if they saw him like this, then the rumor about the extent of his grief will be widely spread and exaggerated. That was the one thing he didn't like, or want, being spoken about, or the subject of gossip. He could take the ones from the newspapers, but not the ones from werewolves and humans.
Chance wasn't focused on him, but he could sense the shift in the air, and it made him glance at his best friend. He saw that he was a little bit pale, tensed even, and his hands were in fists beside him. He squinted his eyes and asked. "What's wrong, Brand?