Chapter 7
SEVEN
EIGHT DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS
Two days until the company Christmas party, and I still haven’t bought gifts for most of my team. Most supervisors opt for gift cards for their subordinates around the holidays, but that seems so impersonal. I want to get my employees something that shows how well I know them.
Okay, so I want to get Felix something personalized, which means I need to get something for everyone to avoid singling him out.
That is perfectly normal. Not weird Alpha energy at all.
I have five direct reports - Felix, Katy, Benji, and Harper in the accounting department, plus my assistant, Lance.
Somehow, all of my direct reports are Omegas, despite them being such a small part of the population—there is only one Omega for every five Alphas.
I guess statistically it makes sense. We’re the largest employer in Copper Hill with over a hundred employees, so a handful of Omegas isn’t too out of the realm of normal.
Strange that my entire team is composed of them, though.
Not all workplaces are Omega-friendly. There are still backward attitudes in some states that say an Omega who isn’t bonded is unstable and unable to be a productive worker. Somehow, all of that changes when they’re bonded and have an Alpha beside them. I’ve never understood it.
All of my employees are capable, intelligent people. Their designation has nothing to do with it.
Lance was easy to shop for. He’s got a cat that he spoils like a child, so when I saw a miniature couch for cats, I had to get it. I even got the cat’s name, Mildew, embroidered on the front.
I found a make-your-own-hot-sauce kit for Harper. It doesn’t feel like a very personalized gift on the surface, but she told me a month ago that she has one of those hydroponic gardens on her countertop that grows more peppers than she knows what to do with.
A pretty bird feeder catches my eye, and I know it’s the perfect gift for Benji. He is always talking about how he loves to watch the birds in the morning with his coffee.
I feel weird shopping for Katy, because part of me knows Mitchell should be the one doing it, but she’s, fortunately, easy to shop for. She had talked at length about this book series she loves, so I asked the Beta working at the bookstore what she’d recommend for fans of that series.
So after two hours of shopping, only Felix is left on my list.
I want to get him something personal that’s not too forward but communicates my interest in him. I want to give him a gift that implies I’m interested in him and want to see where things go.
Something that suggests he may be my Omega.
It’s a lot of pressure to put on a gift, I know.
I hope it will be well-received. When I went into the breakroom after our conversation yesterday, my scarf was missing. I don’t know for sure if Felix took it, but I’m going to tell myself he did, even if that makes me delusional.
I’m wandering through the market, picking up and putting down gifts left and right, when an older woman calls out to me as I’m passing her candle stand.
“Shopping for your Omega?”
How do I even answer that?
Yes, but he doesn’t know he’s my Omega yet?
No, but I want him to be, so I need the perfect gift?
My face must show my struggle, because she laughs and waves me over.
Her hair is a purple-toned grey, cropped close to her ears, and her eyes crinkle at the corners from a lifetime of smiling. The laugh lines on her face and the bite mark on her neck showcase the kind of life I hope to have.
“Relationships are complicated,” she says. “So, this Omega doesn’t know your affections?”
“Is it that obvious?”
She laughs and pats me on the shoulder. Her pleasant, light Beta scent, reminiscent of bergamot, washes over me. “Of course. You Alphas are all the same when you’re trying to impress an Omega. What’s their name?”
“Felix,” I say, looking around as if he’s behind me listening in. “But I don’t know if it’s going to work out. I’m his boss.”
“Well, that sure complicates things. And he’s not your scent match?” She opens several candles, holding them up to her nose and sniffing as she talks to me.
“I wish I knew. He must be on suppressants. He has no scent to me.”
She looks at me over her shoulder, pale green eyes sparkling.
“Ah, I know exactly what you need to do.” The woman grabs an amber glass jar and holds it up to me.
“Custom candle. Scented from your pheromones. He’ll be able to smell it, and while he can’t scent match off of it, obviously, you’ll know if he at least finds your scent pleasant. ”
The idea of him lighting a candle and filling his home or nest with my scent makes my heart soar, and I know this is what I was looking for. But I worry that everyone else has a personalized gift, and this is just a candle.
“What if he doesn’t like candles? What if he feels like it’s impersonal? Do I tell him it’s my scent? I shouldn’t, right?”
She rolls her eyes and pats me on the arm in a placating manner. “No, you don’t tell him. And pair the candle with a food or coffee he likes. I swear, you Alphas are hopeless sometimes.”
I try not to bristle at her insult, instead focusing on logistics. “I need to give it to him in two days.”
She huffs and pulls out an envelope from under her cart. “You’ll have to pay a rush fee, then.”
I take the envelope from her and open it, finding a pheromone sampling kit.
I have to spit in a jar, and rub a special paper in my armpit, but I do it then and there, uncaring of if I look ridiculous.
When I hand it over to her, she seals it, holds her hand out for my credit card, and gives me an ungodly expensive total.
I don’t mind paying it, though. Knowing if Felix likes my scent will be priceless.