47. Jordan
Chapter forty-seven
I read the e-mail again.
And again.
And again.
I read it so many times that Icarus grabbed my phone and put it in his pocket.
"You're going to drive yourself crazy," he says gently. "The words aren't going to change."
"How can they fire me?" I ask for what may be the fiftieth time.
Icarus runs his fingers through his dirty blonde hair and sighs. "I don't know. I thought you filed your paperwork. You took heat leave and everything."
"I put it all together. Lanie filed it. Why would they say I didn't?"
My mate pushes a mug that says "Doctor's Orders" filled with steaming tea across the table to me. Wrapping my hands around its heated surface lets me feel something other than grief at losing my career.
"Maybe Lanie didn't file them," he says gently. "She hasn't been a good friend to you lately."
"That's not fair! I've been skipping out on our brunches and Friday lunches. I haven't given her as much attention since you came into my life."
"Is she happy for you, Jordan?"
I take a heavy sip of my tea, enjoying how the honey coats the back of my throat. Dae rubs his orange body against my ankles as Icarus and I sit silently while my mind processes.
Is she happy for me?
I've heard jealousy in her voice and disbelief that I'd hold the Stargazers at arm's length.
But has she expressed joy on my behalf?
And it's not just that, is it?
I think about the snide comments about my body and my food intake. The weird, judgmental way she spoke to me when I returned from breaks and how everything she had a double edge to it—backhanded compliments and always assuming the worst.
Why hadn't I noticed before that our friendship was morphing into something unrecognizable?
How long had I been the one making all the effort, only to have her make me feel like I wasn't trying hard enough?
Sadly, I sit my mug down and bury my face in my hands. "You're right. She's not been a very good friend."
His shoulders drop from his ears where he had been bracing for me to blow up. Running his fingers through his already messy hair, he smiles softly. "Is it possible that she would've done this on purpose?"
I groan in frustration as Blush hops onto my lap, startling me. I bury my fingers into her soft fur, enjoying how her floppy body melts at my touch. "Anything is possible. I guess I need to ask her."
"I would prefer you didn't," Rafe's voice reaches me from where he stands, braced against a wall in the kitchen. I didn't hear him enter. "At least not until we talk to an employment lawyer."
I adjust slightly in my seat to face him. "Why would I need to talk to a lawyer first?"
His long legs eat up the distance between us in three steps, and he sinks into the chair beside Icarus. "She works for HUG still. She could easily report back anything you say. We have to assume that she's on their side right now, considering she hasn't called you. She was your PA. Either they fired her, too, or they found another role for her. Since she hasn't called you freaking out…"
"They found another role for her."
"Exactly. I don't trust that her loyalty is with you right now."
Icarus grabs our empty mugs and busies himself, cleaning off the table. "Do you know a good lawyer?" he asks over his shoulder.
"Cyrus' agent might." My quiet Alpha stretches his legs out, accidentally kicking Dae, who releases an indigent squawk of a meow before stalking away.
"A lawyer? Really?" I squirm uncomfortably. "Why would I want to return to work at a place that would so easily drop me?"
"Because it's your career, Jordy," Rafe replies. "And even if you don't go back there, maybe we could stop this from happening to someone in the future. It's bullshit that your designation can have any bearing on your employment."
"We're not going to be able to change the laws. I'm just one person."
"Oh we are for sure not going to drive major change," Icarus remarks with a laugh. "Even all the bullshit with the Perfect Omega couldn't drive nationwide change. It did get the Design Clinic to change many of their policies, though, just because of the public backlash." His hands land on my shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. "So maybe this only makes changes as HUG. That shouldn't stop you from fighting for yourself."
He snags my chin and tips my head back, giving me an upside-down kiss that makes my whole body relax with a sigh. "Okay," I say dazedly. "I will talk to a lawyer. But before I do that…" I pivot in my chair and grab the front of his heather grey tee. "More kisses, please."
"Nice to meet the woman who almost cost my client his job," the stocky woman says, reaching for my hand.
"Ronda," Cyrus nearly growls. "Don't."
The female Alpha chuckles and smacks the much larger man in the chest. She's solidly built, clearly an athlete, with dyed black hair that reaches her chin in a sharp bob. She's older, with eyes so light blue they're a little unnerving, and she has plenty of smile lines around her mouth. "Oh, take the stick out of your ass. It's just nice to meet the Omega that has you all tangled up in knots. I thought you were the one that was supposed to do that to her."
A strangled sound escapes Cyrus, and I place a hand on his arm to settle him. "It's nice to meet you too." I think Ronda can sense the hesitance in my voice because her posture immediately changes, and when she shakes my hand, it's much softer than I was expecting.
"Yeah, thanks for setting up this meeting." Rafe reclines in the black leather chair in front of the conference table. He's almost dangerously sexy in his signature all-black with his dark hair, dark eyes, and rich, deep skin.
Tall, dark, and handsome? He certainly is.
"Why'd you want to come, anyway?" Cyrus asks his agent as he flops into the chair beside his packmate. He's got his curly brown hair slicked back in a low pony, with a pale pink button-up shirt stretched so tightly across his broad chest that I feel like I should buy stock in the company that makes it because it is impressive how well those buttons hold on.
Ronda sits at the head of the table, all business now, as she folds her hands on top of a portfolio she brought with her. "This may not be my area of expertise, but I've worked with enough legal teams on contracts to be a little dangerous. It sounded like you needed someone else in your corner, so here I am."
As much as I wanted the whole pack here with me, it didn't make sense for everyone to take off work. Cyrus doesn't work until the evening, and Ronda is his contact, so he was a given. Rafe would hear no argument about him not coming, so he called in sick.
Truthfully, I don't think Simon minded all that much about missing out on the meeting, and Icarus could not reschedule all of his appointments for the day.
This leaves me here, with two of my unbonded Alphas and another one I've never met before, to meet with a stranger and determine if there will be a way to salvage my career.
Before I can reflect more on my future, the door opens, and two people file in. The first is a man with deep brown skin and tight braids that hug his scalp, wearing a grey suit. The pleasant but unimpressive scent drifting off him tells me immediately he's an Alpha.
The woman who enters behind him has olive skin a few shades lighter than Rafe's, with curly brown hair that barely brushes her shoulders and plush pink lips. Her hips sway in her black pencil skirt as she extends a hand to me. "Julia Johnson," she says as I place my hand in hers.
"Jordan Cross. Well, Knight at work. And I'm unsure if my name change to Valentine ever went through." I chuckle nervously. "I have a lot of names."
The Beta woman laughs and gestures towards the dark-skinned man she entered with. "This is Robert Johnson, my husband."
"Call me Bob." His deep voice is warm as he shakes my hand before we settle into our seats.
Remembering my manners, I gesture to Rafe and Cyrus. "This is Rafe, and that's Cyrus Stargazer. They're my," I gulp and inhale deeply, "Alphas. They're my Alphas."
I try to ignore the shock that flashes briefly across the men's faces. Ronda doesn't look shocked, though. She looks smug.
"Should I add Stargazer to your list of names, too?" Bob jokes.
"Well, I'm Jordan Cross. I do business under Jordan Knight. But I mated Icarus Valentine, and we filed pack paperwork, which makes me Jordan Valentine. And then I scent matched with Pack Stargazer as well, but we haven't blended packs yet, and I'm not bonded to them and-"
"Jordan, it's okay," Julia says gently. "All families and packs look different. What's the name on your driver's license?"
"Jordan Cross."
"Okay, then that's what we'll use." Her voice is melodic, a surprising departure from her stern appearance. "Ronda only gave us the basic information about your situation. Can you fill us in on everything?"
After several minutes and the whole story of what happened, the room is silent longer than I'd like. Bob and Julie exchange several tense glances as they look over their notes.
"I'll be honest with you, Jordan," Bob says as he pushes his notebook away. "I'm not sure you have much of a case."
"How could she not?" Rafe nearly snarls. "Her boss basically attacked her, and then they fired her. It feels pretty cut and dry to me."
"Not if she never filed her paperwork. And since she did not put it in HR's hands, she cannot prove it made its way to them." Bob leans back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. "It doesn't bring me any joy to say this, but I don't think we can help you."
"What about the fact that this only got brought up because my boss was angry that I'd bonded someone without giving his pack a chance?" My voice is smaller than I'd like. Their hesitance to take my case takes a lot of the wind out of my sails, and I can't help the hopelessness that travels over me.
Julia reaches out to place a hand over mine. "It's your word against his. And let's be honest about our world for one second, okay?" She smiles sadly, and my shoulders slump. I know where this is going. "Who's going to believe the word of a respected Alpha versus an Omega they say was hiding her designation."
It's sad that I knew what she would say, but it's true. No matter how hard Omega rights are fought for, and objectively, it is worse for Omegas in other countries, there is still a long way to go.
We are still seen as a step below the other designations, something to be coddled and protected. But their misguided means of protecting us have us shackled, with only a few job options and restrictions that make us basically our parents' property until they sign off on us bonding someone.
But this is what I wanted, right?
This is what I've spent sixteen years begging for.
Suddenly, presenting as an Omega doesn't feel like such a victory. It feels hollow.
I had tuned out while Cyrus and Rafe asked questions, so Bob's words surprise me. "…and we will at least go to their legal team and suggest mediation or a layoff payout. Given how high profile Cyrus is, I think the threat of negative publicity for affecting his pack may be something that can work in our favor."
"Whatever you need to do," Ronda says, interjecting herself into the meeting for the first time. "I can easily put together some interviews or guest features on talk shows so Cyrus can talk about the poor treatment of his Omega."
His Omega.
For some reason, it chafes me that I'm called that instead of my name. It's like my only worth is in his ownership of me.
I know she didn't mean it that way, but it still stings.
"Whatever you all think is right." I have to force the words out of my dry throat.
"It can't hurt to try," Rafe agrees. "Let us know what they say."