Chapter 21
Well, this is a nice surprise.
It’s impossible for me to drop my huge grin, even when Camille glares at me in a way that makes my cock give a highly inappropriate twitch.
When Sandra asked me to join her for a last-minute meeting, I was distracted by the fact that she already trusts me to assist with an important potential new case.
I’ve been working at the Omega Legal Defense Fund for a little over two months, so I didn’t realize I was on the lead partner’s radar at all.
I thought it was a miracle that I landed this job after my unconventional gap in practicing law, but apparently it worked in my favor that I took a break to work for an omega clinic.
Showed that I had the sensitivity and understanding needed to work with omega clients in need, according to the hiring manager when he offered me the job.
Guess I should’ve asked who the client was before agreeing to the meeting, but honestly the look on Camille’s face right now is totally worth the awkwardness of the next few moments.
Sandra looks between us, her shrewd green eyes narrowing a hint at the way I’m beaming and Camille’s surprise. She can pretend to be mad all she wants, but I can tell she’s happy I’m here.
“Oh, do you two know each other?” Sandra asks.
Not wanting a repeat of the awkwardness that Camille dealt with the first time she came to our house and her boss walked in and took her so off-guard that she felt the need to lie, I nod.
“Yes. I’m sorry, if I’d realized the client was the omega my pack is courting, I would’ve said something beforehand. ”
Camille’s gaze softens as she realizes I’m as surprised to see her here as she is to see me. “It’s new. I didn’t know Jackson worked here, otherwise, I would’ve mentioned it.”
There’s a flicker of guilt that I didn’t tell her, but I’m not sure when would’ve been a good time to bring it up.
All our conversations since the night she stayed with us during her heat spike have been kept strictly light and upbeat.
If I mentioned work, I’d have to tell her I quit my heat minder job because I couldn’t do it now that I’ve met her.
I’d have to bring up the elephant in the room of River leaving and me needing to step up and get a better-paying job to pull my weight for the pack.
Sandra’s typically stern features relax into a smile. “What a lovely coincidence—the woman I’ve been hoping would reach out and my best new attorney are courting. Though I suppose it does pose a potential issue if either of you is uncomfortable mixing work with your personal lives.”
As much as I want to blurt “no” and proclaim that if anything it means I’ll do everything in my power to make Camille’s case a success because I’d do anything for her, I stay silent. It’s not my decision to make.
Camille gives me a searching look, and I smile softly, willing her to understand that whatever she decides will be fine with me. She pushes a strand of hair behind her ear and pulls her focus from me with a soft flush painting her cheeks.
God, I’d pay anything to know what she was thinking that made her blush.
My damn dick perks up again, and I’m really glad there’s a conference table in front of me right now.
If we do end up working together, I’m going to have to strap my dick to my leg so that I don’t end up getting fired for being the creep that gets a boner in the office.
“I have no issues working with Jackson. I trust that he can keep things professional. As long as that isn’t an issue for the case.
I don’t know what the rules are for legal representation, or really much of anything about law other than stuff I’ve seen on television that probably is incredibly inaccurate.
And this is all if I even have a case to begin with, or if I decide to pursue legal action.
I’m worried I might be wasting your time. ”
Maybe I’m already screwing up the whole “staying professional” thing, but Camille’s nervous stream of words has me moving to her side and resting a hand on her back.
Some of the tension in her spine releases at my touch, and more fades as I rub a soothing circle against the silky material of her blouse clinging to clammy skin before gesturing for her to take a seat.
“I’m sure Sandra wouldn’t have squeezed you into her very busy schedule if she didn’t think you had a reason to talk to us. ”
The alpha nods, the corners of her eyes crinkling a bit with warmth as she watches me reassure Camille. “Yes. Ms. Clairmont—may I call you Camille?”
“Of course,” Camille replies as she takes a seat at the table, and Sandra rounds to the other side. I’d much rather sit next to my omega, but I resist the urge and join Sandra across from her.
“Camille, I’ll be frank. Your situation, while unpleasant and unfortunate, is one I’ve been looking for.
Between the virality of your story, the sensational nature of your new status as an omega, and what, from everything I can tell, is a blatant unlawful termination from your previous employer, you’re the perfect storm.
With the rise of the ‘Alpha Rights’ movement and a push for stripping omegas of legal protections and liberty, we need a case to draw a line in the sand. And I think that case could be yours.”
Hearing Sandra speak, conviction and alpha strength infused in every syllable, it’s clear why she’s in her role. I knew that Camille had legal grounds to sue Pulse for her wrongful termination, and maybe even Alpha Net for defamation, but I didn’t consider how important those cases could be.
How publicized those cases would be.
Shit. Maybe I can’t work on this. How can I ask Camille to put herself out there for even more attention and potential ridicule after what she’s been through?
I watch Camille’s smile falter as she considers Sandra’s words. “Oh. Wow, okay. I hadn’t realized how…important my case might be.” She releases a weak laugh. “I was expecting you to tell me that omegas get fired all the time for this kind of shit and that it’d be a waste of time.”
Sandra shakes her head. “It’s precisely because of the rampant disregard for the law that it’s not a waste of time.
Omegas are typically reticent to reinforce the stereotype of being needy or complaining, which means that they under-report these situations and companies grow comfortable in their discriminatory practices. ”
“Right.” Camille reaches for the glass of water I’ve poured for her while Sandra was speaking and takes a sip. “That makes sense.”
The look on my omega’s face tells me she wishes she could crawl under the table and hide from the responsibility and weight of what Sandra’s saying.
“Why don’t you tell us the details of what happened when you were terminated, so we can get the full picture and discuss your options from there?
” I ask gently, hoping that grounding the conversation in the facts of what happened rather than the lofty potential of her case will help her relax.
I hate to make her relive it, but it’s important for us to know.
Camille nods. “Sure. So, a few months ago, I went into heat unexpectedly…”
By the time the meeting has ended, Camille’s already pale complexion is drained of all color. She asks if she can visit the restroom before she leaves, a dazed look in her eyes, and Sandra turns to me as soon as Camille is out of earshot.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t easy for her, and I know I came on strong.” Her brow furrows, and for a moment I think she’s going to urge me to find a way to convince Camille to pursue legal action. She sighs, and a soft smile curves her lips. “Take the rest of the day off. Be with your omega.”
I blink at her, surprised. Though I don’t know why I am. Sandra is an alpha in the best sense of the word—strong, determined, and deeply caring and protective. Of course she’s empathetic toward Camille. “Thank you. I’ll come in early on Monday to—”
Sandra waves her hand at me dismissively. “No need. Whatever you were going to do this afternoon can wait.”
Camille emerges from the bathroom, looking a little less like she’s on the verge of passing out. Sandra nods and says her goodbyes, and I escort my omega to the elevator with a hand on her back. When I step inside with her, her brow scrunches.
“I’m starving. Let’s go get some ice cream.”
“Don’t you have to work?” Her protest is half-hearted at best, a smile already curving her lips at the prospect of getting a treat with me.
“Nope. I have the afternoon off.” The elevator door slides shut, and I turn, wrapping my arms around her now that we’re alone. “Hey, gorgeous,” I murmur, savoring the feel of her plush body sinking against mine.
God, I could hug this woman forever, especially when a soft purr starts in her chest and she squeezes me back, scent marking my cheek with hers.
“I’m so glad you were there with me,” Camille sighs. “I’ve missed you,” she adds in a whisper, like she shouldn’t be admitting that.
My chest swells with so much damn love at those simple words I’m worried I might burst. It isn’t lost on me that out of everyone in the pack—Dolly excluded, of course—I’m the one she lets herself trust. I used to think that being a beta meant being an afterthought in a pack.
After all, that’s how the omegas we attempted to court before Camille behaved.
There were more than a few nights I spent wishing I were different.
Beating myself up about not being “enough” because I’m not an alpha.
But being a beta means I can be my omega’s rock. The steady place she knows she can depend on when she worries she’s getting lost in her omega’s needs. The one that doesn’t care for her because instinct demands it, but because I want to. Because I choose her of my own volition.
If that isn’t a fucking great reason to be a beta, then I don’t know what is.
“Of course you missed me.” I grin when she huffs and pushes against my shoulder, giggling when I squeeze her hips and pull her back to me. “I’m amazing.”
Camille gazes up at me, the rosy glow in her cheeks returning. “You really are,” she murmurs. She raises up on her toes, pressing her lips to mine in a kiss that’s cut way too damn short by the elevator doors sliding open and the sound of conversation of those waiting to step inside.
I grab her hand and tug her out into the lobby, loving the way her palm feels cradled in mine. Loving it even more when she doesn’t let go the whole way to the ice cream place a few blocks away, or when we stand in line and she deliberates over what flavor to get.
I get coffee flavor, because, duh. She laughs, her eyes glittering when she notices the special flavor of the day just so happens to be Earl Grey.
When she gives her cone a lascivious lick, her eyes fluttering shut on a soft moan at the taste, I groan. “Such a tease.”
She laughs when I lap at my cup of ice cream even more suggestively, eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed as she stares at my mouth. Then we’re leaning toward each other, kissing again, our flavors mingling together in a blissful, unexpected harmony.
Someone nearby clears their throat when Camille lets out a muffled moan against my lips, and she pulls back with a sheepish smile.
“Probably shouldn’t be making out like that in public.”
I cock a brow at her. “Why the hell not? It’s better than me crawling under the table and burying my face between your thighs like I want to.”
“Jackson!” Her eyes dart around in alarm, but no one heard me.
“I don’t remember you being this shy, Cami,” I tease, and the sigh she releases makes me worry I’m fucking things up. “Shit, sorry, I’m moving too fast, aren’t I?” I reach across the table to hold her hand with an apologetic smile.
She squeezes my hand back and shakes her head. “No, no, that’s not it. It’s just…I feel like I’m always moments away from someone recognizing me and laughing or taking a photo or…”
My smile falls, brows knitting together.
“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she says, releasing a heavy sigh. “Most people don’t know who I am, but with all the stuff on social media, it feels like they do. And there’ve been enough people staring and ‘old omega’ catcalls that it’s hard not to be on edge.”
“That’s not ridiculous at all.” Guilt rises in me for missing the signs of her discomfort, and not checking in more about if she was feeling unsafe.
I’ve been trying so hard to keep our conversations light and fun, worried that more serious topics would scare her away.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was that bad.
I would’ve taken you somewhere else if I’d known. ”
“It’s okay. I need to get over it because unless I want to dye my hair or start wearing sunglasses and a wig all the time, it’s going to keep happening. I can’t keep hiding. I have to live my life.”
I nod. “You’d look hot with any hair color, but is it wrong that I’m glad you didn’t go that route?”
She snorts, shaking her head at me. “Don’t worry, I’m keeping it natural.”
Giving her hand a squeeze, I let my goofy smile fade a bit. “If anyone messes with you, or makes you feel unsafe, call us. It doesn’t matter when or where. We’ll be there.”
What I really want to offer is to be her full-time bodyguard to scare off anyone who bothers her, but I resist the urge. Maybe I could get my own disguise and follow her around without her knowing.
No, dude, back off, that’s weird.
“Thank you, but I’m sure I’ll be okay,” she says, shrugging my offer off.
I narrow my eyes at her. “I know you’ll be okay. You’re strong and capable on your own. But just because you can do it alone, doesn’t mean you have to. That’s kind of the whole point of a pack.”
“I know…”
I let go of her hand and cross my arms over my chest. “If you don’t reach out to us and we find out you were in a bad situation, Daddy will get angry. You don’t want that, do you?”
Her tension deflates as a snort bursts out of her. “I mean…” A cheeky smile twists her lips. “Might be kind of fun to see how he’d punish me.”
I laugh, dick giving a twitch at the thought. “True.”
She licks a drip off of her ice cream, her eyes on mine like she knows I’m getting turned on. Then she winks.
“Okay, okay. I’ll be a good girl and reach out if I need you.”
Thank fuck. I don’t know if I’m cut out for being a masked stalker.