Ex-con Alpha (Alpha Meets Omega 3)

He’d expected a bit of blow-back once he’d returned, but there had been none of it. Some were grateful to him, some were ambivalent, and some were actually happy to see him. It had only been the Alpha who was concerned with his homecoming, worried that it might inspire a return to the illegal activities that had almost brought the entire pack to ruin. Even he seemed to be coming around.

“Sure, what’s up?”

“I’ve got a job for you.”

“A job? I have a job down at the bar.”

“Not one that pays like this one.”

“Is it legal?”

“Come on, Travis. Who are you talking to here? Of course, it is.”

“Yeah. Sorry. What is it you have in mind?”

“Close protection.”

“Close what?”

“Bodyguard, in layman’s terms.”

“What sort of wolf needs a bodyguard?”

“Not a wolf. An actress.”

“Actress?”

“Yeah, there’s a crew coming in for the next six months or so to film, and the leading actress is pretty high profile. She wants protection.”

“Doesn’t make sense. If she’s that high and mighty, why doesn’t she have her own security?”

“She does, but she wants someone who knows the area and the people.”

“Well, there are plenty in the pack who could do it. Why me?”

“The Alpha requested you, specifically.”

“I didn’t think he much cared for me. Why would he do that?”

“He believes in rehabilitation? Hell if I know. I’m sure he had his reasons. Go ask him if you want,” he shrugged. “Just call it a gift. Here’s the offer. Look it over and give me an answer within the hour, or I’ll have to go to his second choice. Has to be in place today. She arrives tomorrow.”

Carl handed him several pieces of paper stapled together. He glanced at it and back up.

“Who is she?”

“Vivian Demonte.”

“Vivian Demonte?”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Travis looked down at the paper, catching sight of the dollar amount on the upper portion of the front page. It was impressive.

“I’ll take it.”

“You didn’t read the document.”

“Don’t have to. Where do I sign?”

“Come on.”

Travis followed him to the pack office and signed the document he gave him, handing it back to him. Carl made a copy and handed it over.

“Read it tonight. There is information in there you will need. We’re meeting her detail in the morning for breakfast and then joining them to take her to set. You’re going to need a suit. You got one?”

“Nope.”

“Find one. Go over to Schmitt’s. He’ll give you a good deal, let you make payments if you need to spread out the pain.”

Travis nodded and held up the document. “Thanks, Carl. I needed this.”

“I know, bud. Find you a suit or two to start with. I’d loan you one of mine, but you’ve been lifting while you were away. Those arms are never going to make it in one of mine. Call me later, and I’ll let you know what time we’re set for in the morning.”

“Will do. Thanks again,” Travis replied.

Carl nodded. “Alright. Get out of here then.”

Travis left and went straight to the suit shop. It was going to be tough to get one off the rack that would fit him, but he’d just have to hope for the best. Maybe he could find something halfway decent to wear tomorrow and then order a couple more if everything panned out okay. He’d go ahead and get measured and select some material so he could just call it in after the meeting.

“There is nothing in here that’s going to fit those arms of yours. I mean, I usually keep a few bigger suits for guys like you who are in a rush, but I’m just flat out,” Schmitt told him once he arrived at the tailor’s shop.”

“You don’t have anything you can alter?”

“Afraid not. I’m down to smaller sizes on the rack right now.”

“How long to make a new suit?”

“You’re looking at a couple weeks, even with a rush on it. It’s wedding season.”

“I didn’t know weddings had a season.”

“Ah, yeah. Spring through late summer. Everyone wants that pretty weather for their big day.”

“I’m supposed to be in a suit tomorrow for a new job, and I don’t have one. I don’t even know anyone my size I could borrow one from.”

Schmitt looked him up and down and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if to push apart his screwed together eyebrows.

“I do. Let me get your measurements and make a call. You okay with a secondhand suit?”

“As long as it’s decent enough that I don’t look like I robbed a grave,” Travis said, then pondered this a bit more before adding, “It didn’t come off a dead man, did it?”

“Not that I know of. I know a guy in the city that buys them from folks on consignment, so the man that owned them might be dead, but hopefully wasn’t wearing them when he died. If he can get close to your size, you should be able to pick one up for cheap.”