Ethan rotates his wrist. The bruise Zander left behind when Ethan gave him the rut suppressants has fully healed, and the beta no longer has to wear long sleeves to cover it up. It's a small relief. It was tedious having to wear them everyday for the past week or so. He missed feeling the breeze whenever he wore T-shirts.
He's in the restaurant's office after closing, trying to calculate how much he needs left to buy the pheromone vents that need to go in the bathroom. The restaurants budget still isn't there yet, but it's closer than it was last time. Ethan knew it was going to take a while, but he'd rather not approach an alpha like that again. He shudders. He would if he had too, but isn't it best to avoid situations like that from the beginning?
He stares at the computer screen before him and rubs his chin. Should they put on a promotion for his mom's strawberry shortcake? He could make fliers and pass them out.
