The Wingman (Alpha Men 1)

“Well, Daisy. That young man certainly looks like the best and worst kind of trouble, doesn’t he?”

She could say that again.

“This is impossible,” Mason growled as he glared at the seating chart stuck onto a whiteboard in the middle of the kitchen. Daisy was surprised by how very seriously he was taking this seating business. He looked like a military strategist planning to go to war. Within ten minutes of arrival he had the chart streamlined and color coordinated. It was both impressive and uncanny. Now, an hour later, they had hit the same brick wall Daisy’s family had been slamming into for weeks. “Why can’t we put the Goldsteins at the same table as the Redwoods?”

“Because Mr. Goldstein and Mrs. Redwood had a thing about twenty years ago, and Mr. Redwood has been gunning for Mr. Goldstein ever since,” Daff explained gleefully, and Mason’s brow lowered.

“I suppose that makes sense,” he conceded thoughtfully. “I’d probably want to kill the guy too if he’d slept with my wife.”

“Oh, Mr. and Mrs. Redwood weren’t married at the time,” Lia supplied helpfully.

“What?” Mason practically yelled. “The guy is pissed off because his wife had a sex life before they were married? What the fu-uudge?” He caught himself just in time and cast a guilty look at Millicent McGregor. The older woman turned away and hid a grin from him, but Daisy saw it and barely bit back her own snicker. He had been trying to be super polite all evening, but the seating chart was taking its toll on his good humor too.

“Okay, so then put the Redwoods at this table.” He pointed to one of the little circles on the chart, and all three women hissed collectively. “What? What’s wrong with that?”

“Mrs. Redwood had a relationship with Mr. Abernathy. Mr. Redwood has been trying to put Mr. Abernathy out of business since then, and both men hate each other’s guts.”

“Well, then, put the Abernathys and the Goldsteins at the same table; the enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?”

“Can’t.” Lia shook her head regretfully. “At the time Mrs. Redwood was having her thing with Mr. Goldstein, she was also sleeping with Mr. Abernathy. The men got into a massive fight over her, and they haven’t really spoken since.” Mason sighed but said nothing. Just pointed to another table, and all three women winced.

“Mrs. Redwood slept with Mr. Abbot and—”

“Mr. Redwood wants to murder him,” Mason finished Daisy’s sentence wearily, and she smiled at him sympathetically. He stood up from the round kitchen table and paced back to the whiteboard, glowering at it intently. The women remained seated.

“Okay.” He cracked his neck and shook his arms as if he were limbering up for a fight and reevaluated the chart. “Let’s approach this differently—who didn’t Mrs. Redwood sleep with back in the day?”

The pause was so long and significant that Mason groaned and threw up his hands in disgust.

“Jesus.” He glanced at their mother. “Sorry.”

“Why not just give them their own table?” he asked.

“That wouldn’t be right; they’d feel excluded.” Lia was ever sensitive to everyone’s feelings, no matter what the cost.

“Why did you invite them at all?” Daff asked Lia. “Mr. Redwood doesn’t get along with anybody, and Mrs. Redwood drinks and flirts with every man within her radius.” Lia glowered at her. It was an argument that kept resurfacing every time the frustration levels hit boiling points. Daisy groaned and buried her head in her arms on the table, while their mother tried to keep the peace. Mason just kept his gaze fixed on the board.

“Who is Kenna Price?”

“A cousin,” Daisy said, propping her chin on her forearm and watching as he shifted Kenna’s magnetized name strip off to the side.

“And her plus one?”

“Her partner, Trudi.” The plus-one card also moved off to the side.

“What about Martin Mikkelstone?”

“One of Clayton’s old university friends,” Lia supplied, intrigued.

“He also has an unnamed plus one,” Mason pointed out.

“Clayton said Marty will definitely bring a girl, but that’s yet to be confirmed.”

“And the guy is young, unlikely to have slept with Mrs. Redwood?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Daff muttered grimly.

“Daffodil,” their mother chastised, wearily.

“What? The woman seems to go through legions of men. I would be shocked if she’s not a cougar too.”

Daisy, still with her chin on her forearm, released the other arm and started twirling the curls at her temple.

“Katinka Van Buuren is also bringing a plus one, her mum if I’m not mistaken,” Daisy pointed out, and Mason grinned at her, before moving Katinka’s name with its plus one off to the side.

“I don’t know why we didn’t think of this before.” Daff shook her head as she watched Mason move a couple more names to the side. “It’s so simple.”

“If you stare at a problem for too long it starts to seem insurmountable,” Mason said. “Add the pressure of a deadline into the mix, and it becomes damned near impossible.”