Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Tatum
What are the fucking chances? Just my luck.
“Why are you here, Declan?” I yelp, taking in the sight of the Alpha behind the desk, in his expensive looking bespoke suit and his undone tie. His jacket is off, and the sleeves of the tailor-fit charcoal shirt are rolled to the elbow. He looks fine as hell.
“I own this club. The better question is why are you here, Little Omega?” He tilts his head and leans back in his leather seat, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “Are you stalking me now?” The cocky smirk actually pisses me off.
“I need a job, so I came to apply,” I blurt, then wince. That’s what he was asking, but not exactly. He thought I was here to…seduce him, maybe?
“Dressed like that?” He nods to my outfit.
“What’s wrong with my dress?” I frown, smoothing my fingers over the material, feeling very self-conscious now.
“You look like you’re going to church.”
I scoff, eyes wide as I look down at my mostly exposed body. “Church! I don’t know much about church, but I doubt this is biblically appropriate!”
“Did you see what our employees wear on your way up here? Lingerie. The uniform is lingerie. You’re overdressed.” Declan smirks, still watching me. I’m feeling defensive, and more than a little hurt. My Omega wants this Alpha's approval, despite my resolution that I don’t need it.
“I’m wearing lingerie. I didn’t think the cab driver would appreciate me wearing something so revealing for the ride here,” I grumble, crossing my arms over my chest, and looking away from him.
“Well then, let's see it. Take your dress off, Tatum.”
I swallow thickly, but I can’t back down now. No one is going to hire me if I can’t even show my body for an interview. Even if the man before me is a stupidly handsome Alpha I’ve flirted with. I push the straps off my shoulders and slide the dress down my body, stepping out and placing it on the back of the chair across from Declan.
“Spin.” His voice is deeper, husky. Hints of the honey I remember in his tone. His scent of vetiver is still so subtle, but it’s stronger in here than it was at the diner. I do as he asked, and try not to shake, or cover my body with my hands. “You wore the shoes and the lingerie? Are you sure you came looking for a job? Or were you hoping I’d take you right here across my desk?”
“These are the nicest things I own. I wanted to make sure I had the best shot at getting hired. I didn’t know you owned this club. So no, I wasn’t hoping to get bent over anything.” My voice remains steady, even as my heart races. “If I had known you’d be here, I wouldn’t have…”
Declan stands, and slowly moves around the outside of his desk. He leans against it, one ankle crossing over the other, his hands gripping the edge at either side of his trim hips.
“You wouldn’t have come here, or you wouldn’t have worn the things I gave you?” He tilts his head, waiting for me to answer.
“If you’re just going to toy with me, I’m going to leave. I need a job that pays well, and I need to get one fast. I heard Omegas are treated with respect in this club and make good money, so I gave it my best shot,” I huff, looking away from him.
“We have a strict no fraternizing with the employees rule,” he finally says after a long pause.
“Great,” I shrug. I need a job more than I need to catch a knot.
“So you’re okay with that? This never becoming something? Just employee and employer? You don’t want to fuck me as badly as I want to fuck you?”
I gasp, looking up at him. My nipples are hard under the silky material, and I rub my thighs together as a tension starts to build. I’m shaking my head, though, before I can even speak.
“I can’t fuck you!” I take a step away from him because though I might enjoy his pushy attention, I’m not having sex with him. Especially now that he might become my boss!
Declan nods his head slowly, straightens, and moves back around his desk, taking a seat. His entire demeanor changes once he’s sitting. He’s all business professional when he looks at me again. “Put your dress back on, Tatum, and we can discuss pay and hours.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, tears stinging my eyes.
I need this so fucking badly, and Declan is giving me my first piece of hope in so, so long.
Maybe it was the feeling of hope that I’d been missing for so fucking long, or maybe it’s just the man himself, but it became clear that keeping my thoughts professional was out of the question.
Perhaps, it was the topic. Declan had clearly given this speech before, to all new hires. His hypnotic voice had erotic images dancing through my head with the descriptions of what different jobs were offered. But when he started talking about base pay, overtime, and extra opportunities to earn money, I think I came in the seat across from him.
I know I said I couldn’t be wooed by his wealth, and that much is still true. But apparently, I can be wooed by the prospect of working for my own money.
He made it clear that I don’t need to do more than I am comfortable with, and once I receive enough training, I can request to be considered for certain opportunities.
Heat mistress is out of the question. Who knows how my repressed hormones would react.
Omegas don’t often like sharing their heats with other Omegas, either. Of course, there are exceptions. Omegas who have trauma, or who just happen to enjoy other Omegas.
I’m not going to lie, when Declan explained the dynamic, and opportunities that could arise, I got wildly distracted attempting to picture what that might look like for me.
Would the Omega be a male? What would that be like? An Alpha’s rut can trigger an Omega’s heat, even if they normally wouldn’t have gone into heat. This is more common in scent matches or bonded mates, but it’s not unheard of.
I text Meg on the way home to let her know that she can head out since I am only ten minutes away, and I know she has been studying a lot.
I jog up the stairs to the front of my apartment building, barefoot, because the less I wear the heels, the higher my chances are of selling them, when I catch movement in the window next to the light yellow curtains of my own apartment on the second floor. I pause. I’ve never seen anyone coming or going from in there.
Fortunately, nothing else moves, so it's probably from a breeze, maybe from a fan inside, rustling the curtain.
I don’t know why I’m so curious about my possible neighbor, but I am. It had been years since that place had been occupied to my knowledge. Who are they? I shake my head and keep moving.
Once inside, I eagerly rush to my mom’s room. Mom is still lying in the same position in her bed when I arrive, and I rush to her side so I can share my giddy excitement with her..
“I did it. I got the job, Mama. You’re talking to the next Omega Fantasy Muse at the club Haze Instincts!” I’m so giddy at what the money could mean for us, that I actually do a little wiggly dance. She jostles from my movements but doesn’t open her eyes. She isn’t asleep, though.
The twinge of disappointment that she doesn’t respond hurts. But then I watch as she slowly lifts her hand, finds my thigh on the bed beside her, and gives it a weakened squeeze.
I stare at her hand against my leg for a long moment. She leaves it there, but makes no move to speak, or even look at me.
This feels like her way of saying she’s here. She heard me, and she’s trying so hard to acknowledge me, but she simply can’t.
I suck in a gasp that transforms into a choked sob as a tear slips down my cheek. My poor mama.
I take her hand in both of mine, holding it tightly. She’s warm and soft. Alive. Still here. Just trapped inside her mind. In her grief. In a pain so unbearable that she can’t break free. The mark on her neck, the one my father gave her the day they bonded, is a sad gray color.
It marks her as a widowed Omega. The gray only appears if the Omega chooses not to break the bond after their mate's death. She could have severed the connection. Leaving her end of the bond a broken, withered thing. Her mark would have disappeared. Instead, she held onto it. It looks like an infection taking hold.
“Everything will be okay, Mom. I’ll make sure of it. You don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”
It’s an easy vow to make. She’s my mom. She needs me, and even though I know I’m carrying a lot of trauma and baggage, that doesn’t change anything.
She held out as long as she could, and in the end, she got me to adulthood. Now, I’ll do whatever I can to get her help.
I place her hand back down on the bed and get up, heading to my room so I can change into cozy pajamas.
My mind is running a thousand miles a minute. I need to call Bernie and Meg. Declan wants me to start working tomorrow so I can train with some of the other girls, before I jump right into my first shift. Orientation was already set for tomorrow afternoon.
I’m grateful for that. I was also given my uniform and three spares that I left behind in my new locker, so I don’t have to wash it after every shift if I don’t want to. Which is perfect because I have to use a laundromat for all our clothes, and I hate it.
Not for any reason other than I get so bored sitting there, waiting for my clothes to finish. The one I go to is within walking distance, and they use powerful scent killers in their machines.
No one wants to wash their clothes, spend hours sitting there, only to get home smelling like some random Omega. Or, in my case, Alpha.
Omega scents don’t really trigger my territorial instincts, probably because of my heat suppressants. Or possibly my lack of interest in Alphas.
The club and the boutique, I learned, are owned by Declan and his brothers.
There’s a basement in the boutique where you can exercise or do laundry. There’s also a discount for employees at any of the businesses owned by the Hayes brothers. The name Hayes had tickled some memory from years ago, but I couldn’t fully place it. It was familiar, but not.
Declan also provided me with three additional outfits for special occasions. They’re unique.
I left most of them in my new locker at the club. I’m curious about the Greek goddess fae maiden vibe one. When would I wear that?
I didn’t get to meet anyone yet either, but Declan said I’ll get the chance tomorrow at training.
Tatum: I got the job at Haze.
Bernie: Oh my! Well, I’d offer to go in and support you, but let's be honest, Linda and I would stand out like a sore thumb. When do you start?
Tatum: Lol! You would fit right in. You’re both welcome to visit me any time. In fact, I would love it, but I will warn you, my uniform is…minimal. And I start tomorrow.
Bernie: Haha! If you say so. Okay, I’ll adjust the schedule. My daughter will be thrilled. We’ll keep you on the schedule, you just tell me what hours you want to work. Love you kid.
Tatum: Love you, Bernie.