Cassidy #3
“What the fuck are you doing?” an alpha barks.
“Smelling my shirt,” I choke out before embarrassment crashes through me.
If I weren’t covered in his coffee, maybe my blush would be making an appearance.
As is, I’m quite annoyed at the current situation.
The alpha’s green eyes widen with shock and something else I can’t quite place. He’s tall, with broad shoulders and a jawline that could cut glass. His suit is perfectly tailored, highlighting a physique that screams power.
With brown fluffy hair that falls slightly over his eyes, he’s gorgeous, and I hate the way I’m simpering at his feet.
How pathetic must I be?
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out, looking up at him uneasily.
“Get off the floor,” he barks, and I flinch and jump to my feet without hesitation. My blouse is ruined, I doubt I’ll even get the coffee stains out of it, and there’s even some on my skirt.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s fine, I could’ve looked,” he says, waving me off. His gaze rakes over me, alpha-heavy enough that my shoulders curl inward instinctively. “Get yourself cleaned up. This is still a workplace, after all.”
“Ev,” the second man warns, and I look at the beta behind him.
He may not have a scent I can identify, but he’s got a typical beta profile. Tall, lean, with long lines and a slim waist. He’s got a soft jawline, especially in comparison to the alpha.
His hair is a darker brown than both mine and this alpha’s but is neatly styled. His face is meticulously groomed, and his skin is light with neutral warmth.
“I’m just saying,” he says with a shrug. “What do you do here?”
I blush. “Um, I’m a trainee in the fashion department. I only started a few weeks ago. I’m currently—”
“I see. Do me a favour then, doll, get me a coffee to replace that,” he says, nodding at my soaked blouse.
I gape at the man, and to my relief, the beta steps in.
“Don’t be a dick, Evander. I’ll get your coffee,” he says, shaking his head.
“I—” I stammer, but the beta gives me a gentle smile.
“It’s fine,” he says before turning to his friend. “Come on, Ev, let’s get going. We’re already late.”
Evander’s gaze lingers on me for a moment longer, and I shiver in place. I don’t feel like I can move under his hypnotising gaze.
“Fine. Fashion you said?” the alpha checks, and I nod carefully. “Good. I’m sure I’ll see you again this afternoon, then.”
“Afternoon?” I repeat, my brain fuzzy. “I don’t think I—”
“This afternoon,” he repeats.
The beta gives me a half-smile, before the two of them stride past me without second thought. Neither looks back nor seems bothered by my inability to move.
I watch their backs until they move out of sight, my heart pounding.
“What the fuck are you wearing?”
I gasp, clutching my chest, as I whirl around, only to find Harlan glaring at me with an expression of pure disgust.
“I—I had an accident,” I stammer, gesturing helplessly at my ruined blouse. “Someone bumped into me with coffee.”
“It’s not just an accident,” Harlan says, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “It’s unprofessional. This is a fashion company, in case you’ve forgotten. You’ve got to look the part, or you embarrass everyone.”
I press my lips together, fighting back tears. My skin still burns from the hot coffee, and now I’m mortified that he saw me.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, the words automatic now. My lips are trembling, and I hate that I can feel tears threatening. Why am I so emotional today? “I am going to change, but I haven’t had time to—”
“Then make the time,” he says dryly. “Do you have anything in your office?”
I shake my head, feeling small under his withering gaze. “No, sir. I—I wasn’t expecting to need a change of clothes.”
Harlan pinches the bridge of his nose, his exasperation palpable. “Of course, not. I’ll get an outfit brought to you, this one time. Don’t make it a pattern.”
“Thank you,” I say, relief washing over me despite my embarrassment. “I really appreciate that.”
Harlan scoffs. “Don’t. It’s not kindness—it’s a necessity.” He pulls out his phone, tapping away for a moment, before giving me a nod. “Done. Get changed and bin that outfit. Don’t pull this stunt again.”
He shakes his head and storms back into his office, slamming the door with enough force to rattle the glass.
He mutters something about “ridiculous beauty” under his breath.
Tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I blink them back furiously. I want to crawl into a hole and disappear, never appearing again.
I duck my head and rush to my office, my coffee-soaked blouse clinging to my skin like a reminder of everything I’m swallowing down. I want to prove I belong here, but how can I when I can’t seem to do anything right.
I shut the door to my office and lean against it, letting out a shaky breath. The coffee has cooled on my skin, leaving a sticky, uncomfortable residue. The scent neutraliser I carefully layered onto my skin this morning is probably ruined now, and I bet that only added to Harlan’s anger.
I set out to prove how perfect I could be.
Today I failed in that.
Maybe I just need to accept I can’t do it.