Chapter 1 #2
“Um, my heat is supposed to start over the weekend, so I’ve taken the beginning of the week off,” I explained.
“Are you sure?” Roger pressed on. “Your heats can’t be all that interesting or last that long. You can power through, right?”
I clenched my jaw and gripped the edge of the desk. This was how it always was. Ask Linus. He was the nice guy. He’d take your class or do your grading for you. He was kind and loved to help out. And he didn’t have a life of his own.
I was just about done with the good guy image.
“I really can’t,” I said, leaving it there. I wanted to explain more and make a dozen excuses so Roger wouldn’t feel slighted, but I was working on not being a doormat.
“Oh. Okay,” Roger said, not looking happy. “I guess I’ll ask someone else, then. Bye.”
Three seconds after he stepped out of the room, I muttered, “Or you could try not getting drunk at the concert and avoiding a hangover. Or teaching through a hangover.”
My words went unheard, though. And really, I wouldn’t have wanted Roger, or anyone else, to hear them.
I went back to my grading with a shake of my head.
I really needed to grow a backbone. I needed to learn to say no to people.
I had courage in me somewhere. I had to summon that up and stand up for myself sometimes.
Dad had always said that, despite what the media said, alphas liked omegas with a little hutzpah.
I was halfway through my third worksheet when there was a knock on my classroom door again.
“Hey, Linus.”
I snapped my head up with a scowl, intending to demand “What now?” from whoever had come through the door. Instead of one of my fellow teachers come to dump more work on me, I was surprised by the sight of Lucas striding into the room.
“Lucas! What are you doing here? How did you even get in?”
My wily brother broke into one of his mischievous grins as he sauntered over to sit on the side of my desk. “Your school’s security leaves something to be desired. Although Mrs. Denholm is a peach.”
I stared flatly up at Lucas. “You told her you were me, didn’t you.”
Lucas’s grin widened. “She was a little surprised at how I was dressed, and she thought you were already in your classroom. I came up with a good excuse.”
Lucas was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket. Chances were he’d ridden his motorcycle over to the school. I generally dressed in teacher clothes, which involved a sweater with seals on it today, and I drove an ordinary, affordable car that I’d bought used because it was efficient and practical.
“You can’t just go around impersonating me, especially not at my workplace,” I scolded Lucas.
“I won’t do it again,” Lucas lied. “I needed to get in to see you immediately.”
I sighed and leaned back in my chair. “What now?”
Lucas slipped off the desk and faced me like a used car salesman. “I just had the most amazing opportunity fall in my lap. It’s easy money.”
I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms. “What now? Is this another pyramid scheme?”
“No, I’m done with those,” Lucas said. “This is much better. It’s—” He hesitated for a second, pressing his lips shut, like he was trying to think of the easiest way to sell me on his latest harebrained scheme. “It’s merchandizing,” he finally said.
“Merchandizing?” I arched one eyebrow.
“Well, that’s not really the best description.” I stared flatly at him until he went on. “I have some friends who are trying to sell some stuff on one of those online sites. They need a place to store it for a while. So I said they could use the garage at Dad and Papa’s beach house.”
“Did you ask Dad and Papa about this?” I asked, even less enthusiastic about Lucas’s latest plan than I thought I’d be.
“Yeah, and they said it’s fine,” Lucas insisted. He might have been lying.
He was probably lying.
Sometimes it was hard to tell with Lucas. And our family’s beach house, which was about thirty miles south of Barrington, where the coast was a little bit rocky and where most of the properties had been sold off in big, private chunks a few generations ago, wasn’t used all that often these days.
“So what do you want me to do?” I asked. “Drive down to the beach house and get it all cleaned up for you?”
“No, I did that the other day,” Lucas said, waving his hand like he was brushing away cobwebs. “What I need you to do is attend a, um, a job interview for me.”
My already flat look turned downright horizontal. “You want me to go to a job interview for you?”
“Yeah,” Lucas said, brightening. A little too much. There was something almost wicked in his expression.
I sighed. “This isn’t another practical joke, is it?” I asked.
“No! No, what makes you think that?” Lucas pretended innocence.
“Only the fact that you still think it’s funny to play practical jokes on me, even though we aren’t kids anymore.”
“When did I ever play a practical joke on you?” Lucas demanded.
“When you told me we were having a birthday party for Dad and Papa and that it was at the Grand Hotel and I ended up accidentally crashing someone’s bar mitzvah instead,” I said.
“That was hilarious,” Lucas laughed.
“Or when you put cayenne pepper on my deviled eggs at that picnic instead of paprika and nearly sent me to the hospital?”
Lucas laughed loudly, gripping his stomach. “You turned so red!”
“Or when you cut the brake lines on my old car and nearly got me killed?” I demanded loudly.
“You barely made it out of the driveway,” Lucas defended himself. “I was right there and would have stopped you from going out into real traffic.”
“I crashed into the stop sign,” I reminded him.
“And I got the whole thing on video,” Lucas laughed.
I huffed out a breath and turned back to my work. “Go away, Lucas. I have worksheets to grade.”
“Please, Linus,” Lucas said, dropping overdramatically to his knees, clasping his hands in supplication, and holding them up to me. “It’s just a job interview.”
His eyes flashed with something teasing. His entire plea was suspicious as could be.
“A job interview,” he insisted again, still on his knees. “You know I’ve been having trouble getting a real job lately. This could be it. Don’t you want to see me gainfully employed for a change?”
That familiar, awful feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever someone asked me to do something I didn’t really want to do, but felt too bad to say no, rushed into me. Lucas desperately needed a real job. He needed something to keep him out of trouble. He was way too good at getting into trouble.
“What kind of job is it and where is the interview?” I sighed, kicking myself for being such a pushover.
Lucas leapt to his feet, looking like it was the best day of his life. “It’s tonight at eight o’clock. I’ll text you the location.”
“Eight o’clock?” I balked. “What kind of company has job interviews at eight o’clock on a Friday night?”
“It’s a prestigious company with offices on the West Coast,” Lucas said quickly, pulling out his phone. “They’re interviewing a lot of candidates remotely, too, so their hours are weird. There. I just sent you the location.”
My phone was in my satchel, which was stashed under the desk. I would look at it later. “Why don’t you just reschedule the interview instead of sending me in your place?” I asked.
“It’s a limited-time deal,” Lucas said, practically buzzing with energy. “The interview has to be tonight. But trust me, you’re going to love it.”
“I’m going to love a job interview?” The whole thing was highly suspicious to me.
“Yes!” Lucas blurted. “It’s going to be fun. It’s a really, um, unique company. They have a new method of interviewing people, so don’t freak out too much.”
“What kind of method?” I asked.
“You’ll see when you get there,” Lucas started backing away from my desk. “Just trust me on this one, okay? You’ll enjoy yourself. You need this. I need this. Everybody needs this.”
“What if I get this job for you and when you show up at the office instead of me, they figure out what happened?” I asked, torn between wanting my brother to sit down and explain a few more things to me and wanting to be rid of him.
“It won’t be a problem, I promise,” Lucas said. He reached the door, smiled one of his winning smiles, and said, “You’re the best, Linus. You’ll love it, I know you will. You’ll be thanking me for months to come.”
“For going on a job interview for you?” My brother was out of his mind.
“For enabling me to earn some money for a change,” Lucas said. “I can’t live off of the leftovers of your teacher’s salary forever, after all.”
That was certainly true. I was tired of loaning Lucas money anyhow.
Before I could say anything else, he said, “Okay, bye! I’ll be at the beach house if you need me,” then darted through the door, disappearing.
I scrubbed my hands over my face, hating that I was such a pushover, especially where my brother was concerned.
At least this weird job interview was tonight and not next week.
I’d go in, maybe fill out an application, be interviewed for the position, and be out of there within an hour.
Then I could call B&M and make arrangements for my upcoming heat.
I went back to grading, shaking my head at myself. Lucas was definitely going to owe me for this one.