9. Cupcakes And Casualties

9

Cupcakes And Casualties

As soon as they arrived at the Icon Cafe for their shift on Saturday morning, Isobel knew it was going to end in disaster. Yulia was there again, and she handed them each a uniform, directing them immediately to the bathrooms to get changed. The cafe itself was brighter than the other rooms in the Stone Dahlia, with a lighter gold and sapphire colour scheme and a warm, welcoming glow. Individual seating areas were arranged along the edges of the room, each of them enclosed into large but cosy rooms with wood-panelled walls and exposed beam ceilings with light fabric softly draping between each beam to form a canopy. The entrance to each room was a huge, curved arch with fluttering white curtains that matched the canopy. Inside were velvet lounge chairs and curved sofas positioned around marble tables with warm, polished wood bases.

There seemed to be personal touches scattered throughout, like plush cushions, crystal vases overflowing with fresh flowers, bright oil paintings, and glass or polished wood sculptures. At the heart of the cafe was a serving area with polished wood and glass panels reflecting light everywhere. The space was haloed by ivy and designer plants that hung from the ceiling, hovering over the bar that circled the entire central cafe.

The bathrooms weren’t quite as luxurious as those belonging to the Dahlia Room, but they were still slathered in marble and soft with gold mood lighting.

The uniform seemed like a death knell for their first shift, and Isobel groaned after disappearing into the bathroom to switch out her clothes. She had been given a baby-blue dress that hugged her figure tightly and ended at her thighs with small cap sleeves. The fabric had a little bit of stretch, which made it easier to move in, but that also meant that it formed over the natural contours of her body with an almost elastic grip.

Things got worse when she pushed out of the stall and came face-to-face with Mei Ito, who was wearing an identical dress.

“Oh,” Mei said, her eyes sweeping over Isobel. “You’re here too.”

“I guess I am.”

Mei sniffed, shaking out her long black hair. “Try not to get in my way, Sigma. I’m here to cultivate important business contacts.”

“Okay?” Isobel said, because what did she care? But Mei was already out of the bathroom, the door falling closed behind her.

And then it got worse.

The Alphas had been dressed in matching midnight blue suits, several shades darker than her dress. Bellamy was hovering nearby, also suited up. He gave her a look, his eyebrows briefly jumping up, surprised to see her, before he returned his attention to Yulia.

Her stomach sank.

What had they done to recruit him?

What information did they have on him?

Did they force him to do something?

The entire human group was there, as well as several fifth-year students and a couple of fourth-year students.

“This is Ethan, our bar manager,” Yulia said, once all the students had gathered, ready to start their shift. “He’s here for our morning shift in the cafe.” She indicated a man with messy black hair and smiling brown eyes, a dish towel slung over his broad shoulders. It was the same man who had offered his business card and helped her set up her stage the night before. “For those of you just starting today, you’ll report to him at the start of your shifts. You’ll work at the bar or in the kitchen until you’re requested as a guest. As a guest, you will be the personal attendant to that table and that customer or group until they leave. You will wait on them, pour their drinks, serve their food, and engage them in conversation. You are to be pleasant and charming at all times. You are to make them feel special, above all. Make them feel that they’re your favourite person in the world so that they come back again next week and request to see you again. Photos and hugs are allowed, but nothing else. You’re allowed to touch them, but they’re not allowed to touch you. They’re well aware of this rule. Are we all understood?”

They all chimed in with an answer, and Ethan jumped into action without a preamble, directing everyone to stand in two lines by the entrance, where they could greet the guests as the doors to the cafe opened. Isobel did her best to smile, and was fairly sure it was warm and welcoming … or at least it was polite and not a grimace, which was exactly what Oscar was wearing.

He didn’t greet anyone.

Neither did Mikel or Kalen.

Niko may have released a few grunts. Moses didn’t even lift his head to look at them.

This was not going to go well.

Isobel was so worried about them that she didn’t even notice anyone who walked through the door, but as soon as they reported back to the bar, Ethan pointed out one of the private rooms.

“Table eight, Carter. You’ve been requested.”

He moved on quickly, telling the Alphas they had also been requested. He skipped Oscar and Mikel and then moved on to the human group, assigning them all table numbers.

“Menus are on the bar there,” he said, noticing that Isobel hadn’t moved. “You just hand them a menu, be friendly, and take their orders. There’s really nothing to it.” He gave her a grin. “You’ll do great.”

She wasn’t the one he should be worrying about.

Moses snatched up a menu like he was about to use it to whack someone across the face.

Gabriel refused to touch the leather-bound, gold-edged menus at all, giving them a distasteful look, even though they were likely impeccably clean. He also gave the towel slung over Ethan’s shoulder a narrow-eyed glare as though personally offended by it before he strode off empty-handed.

Niko approached his table and tossed the menus onto it carelessly, sinking into one of the sofas with a frown. His room was full of teenage girls. Isobel hurried to catch up with Ethan, who was already back behind the bar.

“H-how did they get in here?” she asked quietly, nodding toward Niko’s room.

“The Icon Cafe doesn’t have an age limit,” he told her. “Tickets are five hundred euros for a day pass, not including food and drinks. As long as you can pay up, you can come in.” He handed her two menus. “We don’t serve alcohol in the cafe.”

She took the not-so-subtle hint as he pressed the menus into her hands and approached the room he had indicated earlier. The curtains were closed, showing only vague outlines through the thin, fluttery white material. She slipped inside, deliberately leaving the curtain open so that she could keep an eye on the others—or what she could see of them, anyway. She didn’t recognise the occupants of her own room until she was standing before the first man, offering him a menu.

Ed Jones and Jack Ransom were sitting on sofas, grinning at her.

Ed took both menus from her, passing the other to Jack. “Good to see you again, Carter.” He indicated one of the sofas, and she perched on the edge of it. Her dress was too short to sit any other way.

Jack immediately handed her a fringed cushion, and she gratefully arranged it over her lap, sitting back a little more comfortably. “Nice to see you again,” she said, eyeing them curiously.

“Shall we order first?” Ed perused his menu quickly before handing it to Isobel. “Does anything interest you?”

It offered a selection of gourmet snacks, some of them so fancy she didn’t even recognise half the ingredients or even the names of the desserts—and she was no stranger to luxury. The Stone Dahlia was just on a whole other level. She swallowed as she scanned the lists of pastries, savoury bites, sweets, and artisanal chocolates. There were no prices listed, but she doubted they were cheap.

It felt impolite to refuse, but she was too distracted by what she could see from her periphery to formulate any kind of response. Across the cafe, Kilian was alone in his room with a man who would have been at least three hundred pounds and who had shaken out a napkin to lay over Kilian’s lap. It really looked like he had used the napkin to pat down Kilian’s crotch. Kilian barely reacted, but he was leaning as far away from the man as he possibly could.

“That’s Jimmy.” Ed followed her gaze. “James Justice? The producer for Legendary .”

“The teenage sitcom?”

“That’s the one.”

“That seems wise,” she grumbled. Putting a man like that in charge of children . She didn’t say it out loud, forcing her attention back to the menu. “Can I take your orders?”

“Let’s just order the high tea service, shall we?” Ed asked. “It’s my wife’s favourite. You’ll enjoy it.”

“Sounds great.” She stood, collecting their menus, before remembering what Yulia had said. “Uh … great … choice.” She attempted the compliment with a wince, but Ed and Jack only chuckled, waving her off.

After placing their order with Ethan at the bar, she took a moment to walk around the cafe and glance into each room, seeking out the Alphas. Theodore sat with a pretty woman in her thirties. She was talking to him excitedly and animatedly, her face glowing. He seemed relaxed, his charming smile fixed in place, but he sensed when Isobel drew near, and his eyes followed her until she was out of sight. Moses had another table of girls, this time in their twenties. He was refusing to sit down, probably because they had only left narrow spaces where he would have to sit close to one of them. He still hadn’t given them the single menu he had brought over and was using it as more of a shield than anything else.

Elijah sat with a very nervous girl, maybe around Isobel’s age. She was blushing and biting her lip, too scared to talk to him. He pulled out his phone with a sigh, completely ignoring her.

Kalen looked like he wanted to kill himself.

He was pouring coffee for a group of three young women who kept finding excuses to touch him despite the rules. Like accidentally brushing past him to switch seats or accidentally touching his fingers as they reached for the drinks he was serving them.

Oscar had been requested as Isobel was doing her rounds, and he was now stalking over to a table with a deep scowl and a menu. Cian was with two girls who looked like they had just gotten into a fight over who would pour his tea, even though he was supposed to be serving them. Gabriel looked like he was about to have a meltdown, stuck in a room with five girls. Just like with Kalen, they kept accidentally touching him as they showed him videos on their phones.

Mikel still hadn’t been requested.

By the time she finished her lap of the room, one girl was running toward the bathroom, her face red and tear-streaked, her shaking hands clutching a napkin. Isobel peered back to the room she had come from, finding Oscar sitting back with a peaceful half-smile, legs stretched out to notch against the table, arms folded behind his head.

“Oh boy,” she mumbled, returning to her own table.

“What did she expect?” Jack asked, tittering and shaking his head. He seemed to be talking about the crying girl.

Isobel didn’t answer, setting the cushion back over her lap as she watched the two hosts of the Ironside Show . She felt like they wanted something or wanted to say something. It wasn’t that they weren’t the types to enjoy the luxuries of the Stone Dahlia, and as she had found out, they were also official board members … but they didn’t seem the types to have celebrity crushes or to pay for the company of Icons-in-training.

Still, they didn’t speak about anything of consequence until one of the servers came over with their food and drinks, setting up a tiered crystal stand stacked with tiny sandwiches, pastries, cakes, scones, and chocolates. Isobel poured tea for each of them—and then herself, at their insistence.

“So—” Jack cleared his throat, some of the joviality slipping from his expression. “How are things going, Carter? How are you finding the new group rules?”

“Fine?” she ventured, unsure. Even though she knew there weren’t any cameras in the room, she still felt like she had to perform and watch every word that passed her lips. “Things are going well.”

“Ironside isn’t for the faint of heart,” Ed added, loading up a plate with sandwiches and mini cakes before placing it in front of her. “It’s gruelling, punishing, demanding. Some might say it demands the impossible and then asks for more.”

What on earth was he getting at?

She busied herself with her cup of tea as she reached out to them both with her Sigma power. Slowly and subtly, like smoke slipping beneath a closed door, she felt around for their negative emotions.

Concern. Worry. Fatigue .

“Are you concerned about anything in particular, sir?” she asked, addressing him as they were expected to address all officials. “I’d love to reassure you.”

Ed narrowed his eyes on her, perhaps a little frustrated with her formalities. “Believe it or not,” he said, “we’ve been rooting for you from the start of your rise to popularity. We want to see Eleven win this show.”

She arched a brow at him. “Really?”

“Really.” Jack grinned at her over his teacup. “You’ve overcome quite a lot. Frankly, we’re blown away. It would be a shame if Hero won after all you’ve done. Hundreds of talented settlement kids wasting five years of their lives only for none of them to win?” He sucked in air between his teeth, shaking his head. “It isn’t right.”

Isobel didn’t answer. She didn’t feel like she could. She wasn’t human like them; she couldn’t just say whatever she wanted.

There was a commotion outside their room, and she quickly jumped up, her eyes searching out where the noise was coming from.

Gabriel was standing, breathing heavily, his arm wet, and the entire contents of his table scattered and smashed across the floor as though he had suddenly swiped it all off the table in a fit of rage. Food was splattered over some of the girls at his table, and they were now making a very loud fuss.

Ethan was swearing at the bar, directing servers over to the table in a hurry.

“Oh dear,” Ed muttered. “Looks like we chose a very eventful day to visit, eh, Jack?”

Niko extracted himself from his table without a word, following as Gabriel stormed into the bathroom. He locked the door behind them, checking to ensure the stalls were all empty. Gabriel washed his hands, pouring more and more soap into his palms and scrubbing them together ferociously. Usually, when he was indulging in a cleaning routine, it was best to leave him alone and not interfere, but this was not a cleaning routine.

Niko slipped his hands beneath the water, managing to catch Gabriel’s soapy hands.

“Squeeze,” he said.

Gabriel squeezed his hands hard enough that if he hadn’t been an Alpha, he might have cracked something.

“Breathe,” Niko muttered.

Gabriel sucked in air, his eyes wild and unfocussed. Niko didn’t try to pull their hands out from under the water, keeping them there until Gabriel seemed to return to himself, and then he released the other Alpha. Gabriel finished washing his hands calmly as though nothing had happened.

What’s going on? Isobel’s soft voice floated through the bond, threaded with concern.

He’s had to endure a lot of people touching him the past two days, Elijah answered for Gabriel. It was bound to end like this.

“I’m fine,” Gabriel said. He didn’t seem to realise he had said it out loud instead of through the bond. He walked to the bathroom door, pausing to dry his hands before pushing out. He didn’t thank or even acknowledge Niko, but that was only because his head was a mess. Niko knew he would find him later after he had finished processing the incident.

Unfortunately, this meant Niko had to return to his own table. He did so slowly, trying to see into Isobel’s room as he passed. She was frowning after Gabriel, holding a cushion over her lap because the ridiculous dress Yulia had given her was so short she couldn’t sit comfortably. All the other female Icons-in-training in the room were wearing the exact same dress, but for some reason, on Isobel, it was obscene. It hugged every line and curve of her body and showed off the entire length of her stunning legs, clinging to her chest in a way that had him contemplating violence because he couldn’t imagine anyone holding a conversation with her and not looking.

He needed to stop thinking about it.

Ed Jones and Jack Ransom were also looking after Gabriel, gossiping quietly with each other. At least they weren’t laughing. Niko didn’t think he would be able to tolerate that.

He reached his table, which was full of giggles. The girls peered around him to catch sight of Gabriel returning to his table to apologise.

“What’s wrong with him?” one of them whispered. “Is he, like, autistic or something?”

“Are you, like, unable to mind your own fucking business?” Niko shot back with a snarl, causing them to jump in their seats.

“I thought you guys were supposed to be nice to us,” another one of them muttered petulantly. They had given their names; he just couldn’t remember them. “Can we change our server, please?”

“My fucking pleasure,” Niko snapped. “Who do you want?”

“Theodore Kane!” one of them whisper-yelled while the others dissolved into a fresh puddle of laughs.

“I’ll add you to his waitlist.” Niko turned on his heel and strode off. Gabriel fell into step beside him.

“They requested Kilian,” Gabriel said. “Who did yours request?”

“Theo,” Niko answered.

“Those two are going to be busy.” Gabriel sighed. “And … Cian,” he noted, coming to a stop. Two security guards were dragging two women toward the exit. They had been sitting with Cian earlier, but now they were red-faced and dishevelled, the previously perfect waves of their hair now mussed and tangled, red scratches and welts covering their arms.

“You ruined everything, Madison,” one of them hissed at the other, trying to break out of the security guard’s hold. “He said he would give me his number if he met me at a bar.”

“The number to a plastic surgeon maybe,” the other girl hissed back, also trying to break out of her guard’s hold.

Ethan followed behind them, looking harassed.

Niko bit back a smirk. Cian had done that deliberately.

The Alpha in question was now enjoying the food and drink they had ordered all by himself, sipping on a coffee and nibbling a cupcake, looking mightily pleased with himself. Mikel walked over to collect the plates and used cups, casually knocking the cupcake out of Cian’s hand. Cian picked up another one, and Mikel knocked that out of his hand, too, saying something sharply. Cian gave him a defiant look, reaching for another treat. Mikel pretended to accidentally bump the entire platter of cakes to the floor.

Ethan was on his way back to the bar when he noticed, and his heavy sigh was comical. “We’ve got it,” Gabriel said to Ethan. “My table wants Kilian Gray, and Niko Hart’s table wants Theodore Kane, by the way.”

“I’ll add them to the waitlist.” Ethan rubbed his brow, looking stressed, before stalking back to the bar. “Do your best to hurry with Cian Ashford’s table, please. He also has a waitlist.”

“I knew they had waitlists,” Niko said as they stepped into Cian’s room to help Mikel clean everything up.

“Stop that,” Mikel snapped as Cian started licking frosting from his fingers. “You already earned yourself an extra thirty minutes on the treadmill.”

“But I have to be so sickly sweet to make up for you lot,” Cian drawled, sighing dramatically.

Isobel watched as Cian, Gabriel, Niko, and Mikel cleaned up the mess they had made at Cian’s table, jiggling her leg nervously and making the cushion in her lap tremble.

“What were we saying?” Ed asked with a laugh, checking his watch. “It’s quite eventful in here today. Like an episode of the show. Those Alphas really know how to inject energy into a room.”

“I was saying that you seem concerned with my performance,” Isobel said, dragging her attention back to them. “I was wondering if there was anything I could be doing differently.”

“Our concern isn’t with your performance.” Jack was shaking his head, also glancing at his watch. “Call it more of a safety concern.”

She froze, her teacup clattering back to her plate.

“He meant for your mental health,” Ed interjected with a laugh, but it sounded a little forced. “The show can take a toll, especially on our top performers, and now with the new group rules, we just wanted to check in because we’d love to see your group win the game. We’d love to see any Gifted win the game, to be honest, but we think Eleven has the best chance.”

“As for what you can do—” Jack nodded to Ed, and they both stood, buttoning their suit jackets. “—just try to follow the rules and save the drama for the cameras, you know? If the producers can trust that you’ll always follow the rules, we’ll be much less concerned about you.”

“Thanks for your time, Carter.” Ed was holding out his hand, waiting for her, already shutting down the conversation before she had a chance to respond.

She slipped her hand into his, and he shook it firmly, Jack doing the same before they strode for the exit. Isobel watched them go, her stomach turning over nervously.

The entire interaction had been light and friendly, strictly surface-level and almost casual, but now that they were out of her sight, their words replaying in her mind, it felt like a warning.

Maybe they knew that the officials had planned to kill them all off and champion Theodore as their Icon, and they were cautioning her to stay on this path and stay within the confines of the roles the officials had sketched out for them.

She extracted her phone from where she had tucked it into the tight pocket at her hip, peering over to the bar to make sure Ethan was busy before she drew the curtains closed, hoping she could steal a few minutes before someone put her back to work. She pulled up Bellamy’s contact and sent him a message, hoping he was free to answer.

Isobel: What are you doing here?

She didn’t have to wait long for a reply.

Bellamy: Washing dishes because I’m not a human or an Alpha.

Isobel: I meant the Stone Dahlia.

Bellamy: … my answer remains the same.

Isobel: What did they do to you?

Bellamy: What did they do to you?

She glared at her screen.

Isobel: Are you safe?

Bellamy: Ugh, fine. I’ll go first. They said they had proof I was the one who supplied Crowe with guns last year. They said they had proof that I bullied and ostracised him and pushed him to do what he did. The proof is fake, but it looks real as shit.

Isobel: Jesus. I’m sorry.

Bellamy: Where’s the quid pro quo, Carter?

Isobel: They said they had proof that one of the Alphas was hiding an illegal ability. A lie, obviously.

Bellamy: They didn’t even blackmail you personally? You should have refused. This place is creepy.

He had no idea.

Isobel: It doesn’t matter. We’re here now. Just … don’t resist them too much. If they think they can’t control you, they’ll gather more collateral. That’s what the others told me.

Bellamy: Appreciate the heads-up.

Bellamy: Moses saw your name on my screen.

Bellamy: He’s threatening to brain me with a sauté pan.

Bellamy: I told him you were asking for nudes.

Isobel: Felt like dying today, did you?

Isobel: Bellamy?

She jumped up, rushing to the cafe in the centre of the room and stopping at the bar, where she had a clear line of sight into the kitchen.

Moses was leaning against the cold storage, his leg bent up, foot planted on the heavy door. One arm was crossed casually over his chest and he was whistling as he examined the nails of his other hand.

“Where did Bellamy go?” Ethan asked, drying his hands as he darted through the kitchen. “He was just requested.”

“He’s in the cold room,” Isobel said.

Moses scowled at her.