Chapter 14
After a lot of arguing, I begrudgingly agree to let Astrid help me take a shower and wash my hair. Mostly because when I try to lift my arms over my head to take my sleep shirt off on my own, I yelp at how sore I am.
It’s embarrassing having my best friend scrubbing and combing through my hair like I’m one of her daughters, but my omega loves it. Astrid giggles when I start purring, and gives me the delightful new nickname of kitty.
God, I’m so lucky to have her. And not only because she helps haul my weak ass back out of the tub, changes my sweaty sheets, and then commands me to go back to bed while she goes out and gets me all the omega “essentials”.
I’m too tired to ask what she means, my eyelids drooping as soon as my head hits the pillow.
Thankfully, there aren’t any heat dreams this time, and when I wake up, I’m feeling significantly better. Still sore as hell, but not like I want to pass out at any moment.
Astrid is unpacking her purchases when I exit my bedroom, and I rub my eyes, thinking I’m seeing things because it looks like she bought at least one of everything from the omega department of a big box store.
She looks up and smiles at me. “Hey kitty. Feeling any better?”
“Yeah, a lot better.” My omega threatens to make me purr again with delight at all these presents, but my practical side knows that there’s no way I can accept all this. “This is too much. I appreciate it, but it’s too much.”
Astrid waves a hand dismissively. “Nonsense.”
I move over to look at the stuff piled on the coffee table, and point at the not one, not two, or even three, but four different bottles of scent neutralizer. “I don’t know if I could use this much in a year.”
“Yes, but you don’t know which one works best. This way, you have a bunch of options.
Not that I don’t love feeling like I’m in a coffee shop when we hang out now, but your scent can be potent.
” She waggles her eyebrows. “Don’t want all the sleep-deprived alphas at work swarming you each morning looking for a taste of your latte. ”
My stomach lurches violently at the mention of work and alphas.
My alpha coworker Holden is an annoying creep, and I’m sure it’ll be even worse once he finds out I’m an omega.
My alpha boss already doesn’t like me, and now that I’m an omega, I’m sure he’ll find even more reasons to be an ass to me.
I can only imagine how some of my alpha clients will react to my new designation.
This is a nightmare.
“I’m joking!” Astrid’s brow raises at my reaction. “You’ll be fine. Most office buildings these days have high-powered scent filtration anyway, so I doubt anyone will even notice.”
“It’s not that… Tomorrow is Monday.” I slump down onto the couch.
“Fuck, how am I supposed to go back to work and look anyone in the eye? They’re all going to know why I was out.
They’re going to know what I am.” Frustrated tears well in my eyes.
“I’ve worked so hard to get where I am. To get the respect I deserve for my skills and experience. All of that will be gone.”
“I don’t think that’ll happen…” The way Astrid trails off gives me zero confidence in her weak reassurance.
I shake my head, wiping away the moisture from my eyes. “There’s only one omega in my department, and she busts her ass, but only ever gets assigned smaller, ‘lower stress’ clients.”
I hadn’t paid much attention to that before. If I’m being honest with myself, there was a part of me that thought it made sense. Lauren is my best work friend, and yet I assumed she was too delicate to handle more.
I’m such an asshole. I pretend like I’m a big supporter of omega rights, but what the hell have I done to actually stand up for them other than repost things on social media?
Astrid frowns, and there’s a long moment of silence before she speaks again. “Do you have to tell them?”
“Uh, yeah? I’ve been out from work for a week. The clinic told me they’d contact them and inform them about my new designation and need for heat leave so I wouldn’t get fired.”
“Damn. Well, if they know, then it shouldn’t be an issue to take a few more wellness days to regroup and figure out how to approach things when you go back.”
I sigh, dreading asking for more time off and seeming even weaker to my boss. But Astrid is right. I’m in no condition to go back tomorrow. I’m tired again even thinking about it. “Yeah. I’ll figure it out.”
Astrid’s smile is sympathetic as she nods. “Hell yeah you will. You could handle five days of getting dicked down. Handling a few jerks at work when you go back is nothing.”
I roll my eyes and laugh, but the dread remains as we sort through the rest of the stuff she picked up at the store. By the time Astrid heads home to relieve Jeff from kid duty, I’m barely able to keep my head up.
I crack open my work laptop to message about needing to take a few more days of sick leave, and cringe when I see all the missed notifications and backlog of emails.
Great. Not only will I have to contend with my new designation, but I have a mountain of work to catch up on when I go back. That is if they don’t decide I can’t handle my clients now that I’m an omega.
I freeze, pulse spiking as I realize most of the emails are from my boss and HR. I open one labeled “urgent” and bile rises in my throat as I scan the message.
If we don’t hear back from you by Monday, we’ll have to assume you’ve resigned from your position…
Multiple absences with no notice or explanation are grounds for termination…
Fuck. Fuck!
I read through a few more emails as a cold sweat breaks out across my skin. The clinic must not have sent over info about my heat, because they’re acting like I vanished with no explanation.
It’s a miracle they didn’t already fire me. Unless they’re waiting for me to come back into the office so they can take back my laptop.
Shit.
The only thing worse than being an omega would be losing my job.
There has to be some sort of mixup. Dr. Stills reassured me that heat absences are legally protected, but leave it to my company to find a loophole where they can punish me because they hired me as a beta, not an omega.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I pick up my phone and search for the omega clinic’s number, then press the call button.
Please let it be a mistake. Please let it be a mistake.
“Peachtree Omega Clinic, how may I help you?” A vaguely familiar voice cuts through my silent prayers.
I fight back a sob, knowing that weeping the second the receptionist picks up isn’t going to help things. “H-hi, yes, I’m calling to check in on some paperwork that was supposed to be sent to my workplace.”
“Of course! I can help you with that,” the receptionist says brightly. “What’s the patient’s name and date of birth?”
I give him my name and birthdate, wiping the snot dripping from my nose with my sleeve.
“Oh! Yes, Ms. Clairmont. Glad to hear you’re doing alright. Give me one moment to look this up…”
I recognize the voice now. It’s the same omega that was working the front desk when I first went to the clinic. Remembering his lavender scent helps soothe me. I suck in a shaky breath. “T-thanks, I appreciate it.”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Clairmont. It looks like we’re waiting for Dr. Stills to sign off on your paperwork. I’m not sure what the delay was… Let me check… Oh! Well, that would explain it,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Oh god, he didn’t sign the paperwork because he was too busy being my heat minder. I’d half-convinced myself I hallucinated that, but I guess not.
“I’ll have him take care of it first thing in the morning. We’ll get everything sorted for you. To confirm, you need it sent to Pulse PR?”
I’m about to say yes, thank him, and let that be that, but Astrid’s comment from our conversation earlier comes back to me.
Do you have to tell them?
Maybe this mixup is a blessing in disguise.
From what I can tell, I haven’t been fired yet. What if I have the clinic send the paperwork to me instead of my office, and I go in tomorrow and see if I can get away with explaining the absence without mentioning my heat?
I could say I had a medical emergency. If they ask for documentation to verify, then I’ll give it to them. But if they don’t…
No one is going to think that a 40-year-old beta’s medical emergency is a heat.
“Ms. Clairmont?”
I startle out of my racing thoughts. “You know what, I think it’ll be easier to have them send it directly to me and I can pass it on to HR once I find out who exactly it’s supposed to go to.”
My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I wait for the receptionist to tell me that’s against their policy.
“Sure, I can do that. Do you want me to use the email you have on file?”
I swallow down my relief. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”
“Of course!” There’s a flurry of clacking as he types something before continuing.
“Just making a note of where to send it. Alright, I’ve got that all squared away for you.
You should get the email tomorrow morning.
Apologies again for the delay, and if you run into any issues, please have them contact us and we’ll get things figured out. ”
“Okay. Thanks again. Have a good night.”
I hang up the phone and sit in silence for a long moment, shocked at myself for even considering doing this. But then my eyes fall to the stack of scent-neutralizing, slick-absorbing omega panties.
This could work.
Astrid unwittingly picked up everything I’d need to hide my designation. Which says a lot about how society treats omegas and how they have to mask what makes them different just to walk through the world without issue, but I don’t have the mental energy to unpack that right now.
I’m too focused on the fact that I may have found a way to stay a beta. At least until I can figure out how to handle my new self and not lose all respect at my job.
Or maybe longer. Maybe they never need to know. Isn’t there a drug that keeps you from having heats?
A quick internet search proves me wrong. I would’ve needed to be on Preventar before I had my first heat. Dammit, so much for that. That ship has sailed.
Part of me wishes they’d had more advanced genetic testing when I was the age I should’ve revealed as an omega so I could’ve been prepared.
The rest of me realizes that my ignorance was better than spending decades waiting to reveal.
Besides, they didn’t have Preventar until a few years ago and from what I can tell, it’s kind of a scary drug.
Okay, so I can’t get rid of heats entirely, but I could get a prescription for heat suppressants, right? It would be worth most potential adverse effects if it let me go back to being myself.
Relief washes over me as my plan falls into place. Yes, it still hinges on work not making me provide a doctor’s note, but if I know how to do anything from working in PR for years, it’s how to spin a situation and use the right words to be convincing.
An hour later, I have an email drafted to the head of HR, explaining my situation. My hand shakes a little as I send it off into the ether, but it’s done. There’s nothing more I can do tonight except practice my story in case they ask me questions.
I was being treated for a medical emergency. It’s not something I feel comfortable discussing in detail, but I’m on the mend and will be back to full health in a few days.
This plan unfortunately means I can’t ask for more time off, because I need people to see in person how weak and worn out I am to help back up my story. But if it means everything will be normal once I get caught back up on the work I missed, it’s worth it.
Astrid was right. If anyone can handle becoming an omega this late in life, I can.
I pick out my outfit for tomorrow, do a quick test of the different scent neutralizers, then head to bed.
Despite my nerves, my fatigue is enough that it doesn’t take long before sleep starts to claim me. As I drift off, a memory of being cradled between two warm, solid bodies as they stroked me and whispered praise floats through my mind.
My omega let out a pathetic, sleepy whine, wishing I could be back there instead of alone in this bed, preparing to pretend like she doesn’t exist.