Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Robin
Every item of clothing in my new closet looks and feels so new and perfect that I can’t believe any of it belongs to me.
It’s almost too nice to wear, but I know my old clothes will be uncomfortably tight, so I pick out a sweater and a pair of pants and I set them down on the bed while I look over the underwear options I have.
Two drawers full of bras and panties of various styles have me intrigued.
I sift through the items before I settle on the most basic looking set.
White cotton feels more like me than the sexier items.
I guess I’ll try those out at some point, but for now I’ll stick to what I know.
Well, sort of. The plain panties are what I’m used to for sure.
Bras are new to me, but I definitely feel like I need one.
It takes a bit of messing around to realize it’s going to be a little harder than I expected to put on.
The clasp being at the back seems kind of dumb. It’s annoyingly awkward, and I lose patience with it quickly, deciding to try one of the others to see if there’s a different type.
It only takes a second to find a black one with a front clasp.
The silky fabric feels nice and it’s a lot easier to slip on.
Once I’ve dressed and dried my hair, I try on one of the new pairs of sneakers.
The difference between my worn-out old pair and these is crazy.
It’s like walking on a cloud.
I clear my throat when I feel that lump rising again.
The last thing I want is to walk into Lana’s office and start bawling my eyes out.
She’ll think something’s wrong, when the truth is everything is beyond amazing.
I grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and I stand by the counter for a few minutes while I compose myself and sip from the bottle. The cold drink helps, but I’m not convinced I’ll be able to go down to her office to say thanks without having an emotional breakdown.
“Get yourself together, girl.”
I attempt to give myself one of Colleen’s pep talks.
She was never good at dealing with tears.
I learned not to show it when I was upset.
This whole rescue experience has broken me of my usual defences.
Getting back the memories of my mother has done something to me that I can’t explain.
I’ve been easier to upset ever since, but I wouldn’t reverse what Dr. Morgan did for me.
I owe him as much as I owe Lana, at least.
It gives me an extra reason for going to visit Lana.
I’d like to see him again, to thank him for his help.
Setting my water down on the counter, I go to the door and unlock it.
Before I can think twice, I open the door and step into the corridor.
It takes a few seconds to lock the door, but once that’s done, I stuff the keys into my pocket, and I head straight for the stairs.
They take me down to the corridor that leads to the kitchen’s main entrance.
The first time I saw those big silver double-doors I realized the job I signed up for would be pretty different from what I was used to.
Working in an academy that looks after more than a hundred live-in students will likely keep me far busier than I was when I was living in a couple’s mansion, catering to one man’s needs for the most part and helping to prepare food for parties maybe once or twice a month.
I’m a little nervous, but mostly, I’m eager to get started.
This week has been strange.
It was bad enough having nothing to do while I was recovering.
Now that I’m feeling good, I want to keep myself busy.
There’s only so much cleaning I can do in my suite.
I pass the kitchen doors and then the glass doors that lead out to the gardens.
I’m tempted to go outside, but I know I can go out there once I’ve spoken to Lana.
The nervous energy I’m drowning in right now will leave and I can relax afterward.
It’ll be more pleasant to be out in the sun when I’m unburdened.
Taking a deep breath, I walk into the reception area.
Erika, Lana’s vibrant Omega secretary, looks up as I move across the room toward her desk. I try to reflect a smile back that matches her own, but I know I probably look awkward. I’m already starting to question what I’m doing here.
This place has been so welcoming toward me.
I shouldn’t be bothering Lana just to say thank you.
She’s the head of the entire school.
I’m sure she has better things to do than speak with me.
“Hey, Robin,” Erika says. “How are you?”
“I’m good,” I reply, giving my usual response to that question.
It’s better if I don’t think right now. It’ll only lead to overthinking.
I’ve had enough of that this week. Being in that room alone has been driving me crazy.
“Glad to hear it! Did you want to see Lana? I can check if she’s free.”
“That would be great,” I admit, relieved that she didn’t say Lana was busy.
I glance over at Lana’s office door. It’s closed, and the bench outside it is empty.
Erika is picking up her phone’s receiver when I glance back at her.
She dials a number and, after a second, she says, “Hey, Lana, Robin came to see you … Okay, sure. Will do.”
She puts the receiver down and smiles. “You can go straight in. She’s with Pete, but you know what true mates are like. She’s never alone now that she has them.”
“Thanks.” I feel my skin warming at her casual mention of Lana’s true mates.
I already knew about Dr. Clarke, and Owen, the head of security.
Now I know she has a third true mate.
I have no idea what that must be like, not even a little bit.
It’s kind of embarrassing that my romantic experience consists of nothing more than silly daydreams based on movies, and the occasional fleeting crush on a new postman.
I wish I had what Lana has. I can see how happy it’s making her.
She’s a Beta, and she has a pack of handsome men.
Who wouldn’t love that?
I make my way over to her office door, and it opens before I get there.
The guy who looks back at me has really short dark hair and a sombre expression.
“You must be Pete,” I assume.
He nods. “That’s me. And you’re Robin.”
He has a British accent, but it’s rougher and more like one a villain would have than the polished, posh accent that a hero or prince has if he’s British, in the movies I watch, at least.
“Nice to meet you.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him around, now that I think about it, but I know we haven’t been introduced.
“You too,” he echoes. “Come in. I’ll be outside while you talk with Lana.”
He steps back to let me into the room, and then he leaves, closing the door behind him quietly.
I look across the room to find Lana standing up from behind her desk.
She motions to the pair of couches sitting opposite each other, a small coffee table in between them. “Hi, Robin. Please, take a seat.”
I sit down quickly on the sofa closest to the door, folding my arms.
She comes over and sits down across from me. “I’m glad you’re here. I have something to ask you.”
“Oh …” I murmur, wondering if something’s wrong.
“It’s just a small thing,” she says quickly. “We can discuss it after. What did you want to talk about?”
“Uh, well, first off, I wanted to say thanks for the clothes. I didn’t expect to be given so much. I just … Thank you, Lana.” Managing to keep my voice from cracking is hard, but I make it.
She smiles. “It’s my pleasure. I see Susan made some nice choices. That’s a beautiful color on you.”
The dusky-pink sweater would look good on anyone, but I nod anyway.
“I love all of the things she picked.”
“That’s great. I’ll let her know she did a good job.”
“Thanks. I wondered if it might be possible to speak to Dr. Morgan. I know he doesn’t work here, exactly, but I just … I wanted to thank him, too. For the things he helped me to remember.”
“You’re right, he doesn’t work here, but he is helping us with something at the moment. It’s as and when he has time so I’m not sure when he’ll be back, but I can let you know once I know.”
“That would be great.”
She nods. “Good. Oh, I got you the name and number of that detective.”
I watch as she gets up and goes back to her desk.
She brings over a slip of paper with some writing on it.
“Detective Waterman,” she adds, as she passes it to me.
I don’t look at it, I just hold it.
“Thanks.” I clear my throat. “You had something you wanted to tell me?”
I can feel my heart pounding harder as I wait for her to speak.
This has to be when the other shoe finally drops.
She’s been too kind. People like this don’t exist in real life.
All of this is way too good to be true.
“Okay, so I know I said you would start work next week, but we just had our new kitchen hand call in sick, and our first social event of the year is tomorrow night. I was wondering if you might want to help out? It’s completely fine if you don’t …”
“Sounds great!” I blurt, not believing that’s all she’s asking.
I’ve been ready to work this whole time.
It’s a relief to have something to look forward to tomorrow.
She laughs. “You can take a minute to think about it. I know you’re keen to start working, but it would kind of be throwing you in the deep end making your first shift the first social event I’ve arranged since I took over here. There might be some stumbling blocks.”
“I don’t need to think about it,” I assure her. “I’m ready to work. I’ll enjoy it.”
She lets out a sigh. “You’re a lifesaver.
You have no idea the trouble you’ve saved me calling temp.
agencies. All you need to do is be in the kitchen for seven p.m. Your shift will be done before midnight, and I’ve been assured that Katie will show you everything you need to know.
You can speak to Chef Harris if there’s anything you’re not sure about. He’s pretty easy going.”
“I’ll be ready and in the kitchen for seven p.m. tomorrow night.”
“You’ll just need to wear black. That’s pretty much the standard here, so Susan will have made sure she gave you several black outfits for work.”
“She did. I have black shirts for work.”
“Great. Thank you for doing this, Robin,” she says, as if I’m doing her a great favor.