Chapter 4
FOUR
TRINITY
“Ooh, what about this one?” Josie holds up a crystal vase that probably costs more than my monthly rent. “Wouldn’t it look gorgeous with white roses? Or pink ones, maybe. Do you think it’s too much to always want a vase of fresh roses by the front door?”
I smile and shake my head, trying to keep my face neutral while mentally calculating how many hours I’ll have to spend finalizing the Heat Island catering contract tonight because I’m here watching my sister scan overpriced housewares.
My to-do list is growing by the minute, and we’re down to just five weeks before the wedding.
“It’s beautiful, Josie.” I tap my stylus against my tablet, where I’ve been sneakily answering work emails, along with reviewing her registry choices like she thinks.
“Though maybe choose between that and the other crystal pieces. You don’t want to overwhelm your guests with too many expensive options. ”
Josie pouts, placing the vase on the scanner. “But Egret says I should pick whatever makes me happy. He says they want to spoil me, and most of the wedding guests will be friends of theirs that like to show off.”
Nothing says true love like expensive gifts , I think.
“You’re right. Sorry.” I slip my tablet into my bag. “I’m being too practical. Maybe there’s something around here made of solid gold you can add to the registry.”
Josie rolls her eyes. “Oh, stop. I don’t like the crystal just because it’s expensive.”
My sister has never really been shallow, but I can’t help teasing her a little. “Can you say the same thing about Heat Island?”
“Okay, Heat Island is going to be amazing,” she says with a laugh. “Mostly because it’s ridiculously expensive. Brendin says they have these private cabanas on the beach with a free-flowing champagne bar.”
I try to sound as enthusiastic as she so obviously feels. “It will be incredible.”
My phone buzzes with a text.
ECS_Admin: Ms. Jones, I’m following up on our last discussion.
Unfortunately it will be impossible to assemble a pack of three alphas meeting your specifications on short notice, or even at all.
Would you perhaps consider any of our beta companions or alphas who don’t quite meet your qualifications?
I sigh, remembering yesterday’s humiliating conversation.
“At least three alphas?” The representative on the phone had laughed. “Most omegas are lucky to find one suitable alpha for this sort of thing. And you want three? For an escort arrangement? It isn’t going to happen.”
Then she’d promised to reach out to me with any updates, not even bothering to hang up before cackling to her coworker about the ridiculous omega who just called for the fifth time.
Josie interrupts my thoughts, dragging me toward the kitchen section. “Saren says we need the twelve-piece cookware set because we’ll be entertaining so much.”
The same Saren who complained when I worked late instead of cooking him dinner.
“What do you think about this juicer?” Josie asks, her eyes sparkling.
“It’s perfect.” I try to match her enthusiasm while my mind drifts back to how I’m going to find a pack well-groomed enough to convince my exes the relationship is real.
The representative had been blunt. I need to lower my standards considerably. That the kind of alphas available for escort arrangements are typically…less polished.
I know, without the rep saying it, that I need to settle for heat-breakers—alphas who help omegas through heats without emotional attachment.
Usually desperate, socially awkward types without solid finances or connections who don’t have the option of forming genuine relationships with an omega.
Or the gruff, yearning-for-the-good-old-days alphas who still catcall women from construction sites, drink cheap beer, and look down on any man who doesn’t work with his hands.
None of those types are going to convince my exes of anything but my obvious desperation.
I can’t show up at Heat Island with alphas like that. Everyone would see right through it.
Even Saren, Egret, and Brendin, who refused to see the real me for the entirety of our relationship .
“Trin? Are you listening?” Josie waves her hand in front of my face.
“Sorry, just thinking about the flowers for your bouquet.” The lie comes easily.
“You’re the best sister ever.” Josie hugs me tight. “I can’t believe I get to marry my perfect alphas and have my amazing sister plan it all.”
I hug her back, wondering how I’m going to pull this off.
I glance at my watch, ready to fabricate an emergency call from work when a familiar voice cuts through the store’s ambient music.
“Is that the most beautiful girl in the world?”
My stomach drops through the floor. I know that voice—its particular cadence, the slight rasp at the edges. I’ve heard it whisper almost those exact words against my ear in the dark.
Josie squeals and spins around. “Egret.”
He strides toward us, his massive frame wrapped in an expensive navy suit that has been tailored to within an inch of its life.
His dark hair is shorter than when we dated, styled in that effortless way that actually takes considerable time and money.
His cologne—sandalwood and something citrusy—hits me a moment before recognition should dawn in his eyes.
But it doesn’t.
Josie launches herself into his arms, and he lifts her off the ground in a dramatic spin. “Shopping for our new home?” He kisses her forehead as he sets her back down on the ground, his eyes never once flickering to me. “Did you find everything you wanted?”
“Yes. Trinity’s been helping me pick everything out.” Josie gestures toward me, beaming.
Egret turns to me with a perfectly blank expression, extending his hand as if we’re strangers meeting at a business conference. “You must be the famous Trinity. Josie talks about you constantly.”
My fingers go numb. I stare at his outstretched hand, unable to process what’s happening. Is he really pretending he doesn’t know me? That we weren’t engaged? That he didn’t break things off in the coldest way possible, never to be seen or heard from again?
“Trinity?” Josie prompts, confusion crossing her face.
I force myself to take his hand. His grip is firm, professional—the handshake of someone meeting a stranger, not touching the woman whose body he spent three years thoroughly exploring.
“Nice to meet you,” he says smoothly. Not a flicker of recognition in his eyes. Not a hint of shame.
Something hot and fierce erupts in my chest. Anger burns away the shock, leaving clarity in its wake. This isn’t confusion or coincidence. This is calculation.
“Funny,” I say, keeping my voice light while maintaining eye contact. “I could swear we’ve met before.”
His expression doesn’t change, but his fingers tighten almost imperceptibly around mine before he releases them. “I don’t think so. I’m sure I’d remember meeting Josie’s sister. You’re almost as pretty as she is.”
Josie giggles while I grit my teeth. Egret had a lot of nerve and no shame even when we dated, but this is truly beyond the pale.
“I can’t believe you made it. I thought you had meetings all afternoon,” she says, throwing both arms around his neck. “We would have waited for you.”
He gives her a condescending smile. “The Tokyo markets won’t open for a few more hours, so I could slip away. ”
“Egret’s in finance and he’s pulling extra hours now so he can clear his schedule for our honeymoon.” Josie explains to me, oblivious to the tension crackling between us. “They’re taking me to Paris.”
“I’ve always wanted to go to France,” I say, not breaking eye contact with him. “I had a boyfriend once who wanted to honeymoon in Paris. The City of Lights must be part of some alpha playbook.”
A muscle twitches in his jaw, but his smile doesn’t falter. “Must be.”
I’m dying to confront him, to demand an end to this farce. But it’s my sister’s smiling, giddy face that gives me pause.
I won’t ruin this for her, even if it kills me.
My phone buzzes with a push notification from my news app, giving me the perfect excuse to step away. “I need to call this client back right away. Work emergency.” I flash an apologetic smile at Josie while Egret’s eyes narrow slightly. “I’ll see you later.”
“But we’re supposed to meet Brendin and Saren for lunch,” Josie protests. “I thought you cleared your schedule.”
Perfect. A complete reunion. Just what I need.
“Maybe next time.” I back away, already dialing my own office number with faked urgency. “Have something carb-loaded for me.”
“Don’t forget about family dinner tonight. You already said you’d come. I’m officially introducing my mates to everyone.”
Family dinner. Of course, I’d forgotten all about family dinner.
I hold my silent phone to my ear, fighting off the urge to cry as I give her a thumbs up and back away.
Egret pulls Josie close. “Let your sister handle her work. That’s what she does best, right?”
The barb lands exactly as intended. I keep my smile frozen in place as I retreat toward the store exit, pretending to speak into my phone.
Once outside, I lean against the building and take deep breaths. The audacity. The absolute gall. Not just to pretend we never met, but to throw my career focus back in my face like it’s a character flaw.
So stupid.
I slump against the wall, watching Egret guide my sister through the revolving doors. What is wrong with me? Three alphas wanted me enough to propose, then decided I wasn’t worth keeping. Now they’re marrying my sister and pretending I don’t exist.
I’m alpha repellent. That’s the only explanation.
A flash of memory hits me—that photographer from last night’s gallery event. The one with the intense eyes and the perfect jawline. The one whose face I rammed a door into.
Oh god. I probably broke his nose. He could barely string a sentence together after I hit him—classic sign of a concussion. And what did I do? Mumbled an apology and hurried back to work, leaving him bleeding in a storage closet.
For all I know, he collapsed minutes later. He could’ve died surrounded by bubble wrap and packing peanuts while I passed appetizers and checked wine inventory.
No wonder I can’t find an alpha. I’m literally dangerous to their physical well-being.
Even when I meet a gorgeous one, I physically assault him and abandon him to potential brain damage.
This is why I need to hire professionals, even if I have to take out a second mortgage for the privilege. Alphas who have no expectation that I’ll act like an actual omega.
And ideally, also good health insurance.
Jesus, I am so screwed.
Just facing Egret alone nearly broke me. The way he looked right through me like I was a stranger, the way he twisted the knife with that comment about my work, as if he feels justified blaming me for how it all fell apart.
And that was just one of them for a few minutes while surrounded by expensive and breakable housewares to prevent things from turning violent. Because no matter how much I might have wanted to throw something at Egret’s head, I am not breaking and buying a damn thing in that store.
What happens when I have to face all three of my former alphas? When Brendin gives me that pitying look he used to reserve for when I chose presentations over pack nights? When Saren pretends we never spent three years planning a life together?
Maybe I’m overthinking this. Does it really matter if I don’t have three perfect alphas with me? Or even one perfect alpha? The agency has made it clear that they have options if I decide to be less picky.
Better someone—anyone—than facing my former pack alone.
I think about the photographer again. The way he looked at me after I nearly killed him. There was something there, I think, something that made my skin warm and tickled at my suppressant-muted senses.
But that’s fantasy thinking. I need reality. I need a date who won’t bail when they discover I’m not the perfect, submissive omega that my sister is.
My pride might suffer, but that’s a small price to pay. A week at Heat Island with my exes and without backup? I’d rather walk into the ocean and never walk back out.
Coming to a sudden decision, I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick response to my last message from Elite Comfort before my sanity catches up with me.
Trinity_Jones: Betas, heat-breakers, anything is fine. I’ll even take a male omega if you can scrounge one up. Just set up interviews ASAP. I’m free all morning on Monday. Thanks!