Enthusiastic, Maryanne dug into the food, made pointless inane chatter, smiling as Claire worked through the knot in her stomach and prayed the food would stay down. With the passing of half an hour, the tense situation calmed. Shepherd’s soft purr from the corner, and the approving look in his eye every time Claire looked over at him, helped to settle her.

Just having Maryanne near was extraordinary, and for a moment, Claire felt… comfortable.

“Maryanne,” swallowing the last bite of steak, Claire looked at her pretty friend and teased, “I think you may be the only woman in Thólos who’s still wearing lipstick.”

Full red lips curved up in a decedent smirk, Maryanne was proud as a peacock. “I have standards.” The woman eyeballed Claire’s hair, frowning. “And you have been slack in yours. You need a haircut.”

“As you must have noticed from the pre-cut steak, I’m not allowed access to sharp objects. I am also pretty certain salon services are not part of Shepherd’s philosophy.”

Maryanne cocked a snarky eyebrow and purred, “But gourmet food is?”

Claire looked down at their finished plates, frowning.

Maryanne ran a pet down Claire’s hair so she might show her the ragged ends. “You know, Claire, if it comes to girly things, you’re going to have to outright tell him if you need something. Your Alpha seems dense as a boulder in regards to women.”

Before she could stop it, the Omega burst into uproarious laughter. Hand pressed to her mouth, she imagined Shepherd’s expression behind her, and laughed even harder.

It took a minute before she could chide her cocky, smirking friend. “For fuck’s sake, Maryanne. He’s never going to let you come back now.”

“Oh.” Maryanne lounged back in her chair like a well-fed cat. “I think he will.”

While Claire composed herself, Maryanne began her duty. “I have visited your Omegas. They are blissfully unaware of your situation.”

And that was why Maryanne had come. Claire ran a hand through her hair, worried. “Do they think I killed myself?”

“Yes.”

“That’s good. They would fret if they thought I was still alive.”

“Only because they’d fear you might cause them trouble.”

“Maryanne…” Claire warned, “that is not fair.”

With an arrogant smirk, Maryanne waggled a finger. “Life ain’t fair, sugar pie.”

“Life is what we make it.”

“Says the woman with scraggly hair and chapped lips. You clearly have not been making yours that great.”

Irritated that Maryanne thought to scold, Claire leaned forward and snarled, “And what the fuck is your point?”