Chapter Twenty-Four #2
Alphas always seem perfect in movies, especially the romantic ones, but in real life I only know one Alpha, and Ivan Hamilton is much worse than a creep. But that doesn’t feel like the kind of story I should be sharing with someone I’ve barely known for ten minutes.
So, I smile back when she glances at me, and I stick to a safer topic.
“Lana seems great.”
“Oh, she is! She’s seen it all, too. She worked on reception before she got that job. I was always worried she’d find something better and leave. I had my fingers crossed she was going to step up sometime and run this place. She’s what we needed here.”
“What happened to the old administrator?”
“You don’t know?” She sounds shocked, but then she nods. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I forgot where you came from for a second and I …”
“It’s okay,” I cut in, because she looks way more worried than she needs to be. “I’ve been a little bit disconnected from the rest of the world. That’s all. It doesn’t bother me if you mention it.”
She blows out a breath. “Okay, well I need to confess something then. I’ve been trying not to mention it or to ask any questions, but that feels wrong. I like getting to know people, and you seem cool. I just … I don’t want to upset you or anything.”
“It won’t upset me. You can ask me whatever.”
She brightens instantly. “Really? Oh, well, then, what made you want to work here? I mean, on cleaning and kitchen duties. I know Lana’s looking for admin staff, too, so I’m just kind of curious to know why you’d pick this over that.”
“Well, I worked in the kitchen at Ivan Hamilton’s house. I don’t have experience with anything else really.” I press my lips together and shrug, hoping it doesn’t lead to more questions.
Avoiding admitting an area I have a deficit in is one thing.
If I have to tell her I can’t read or write, I know I’ll have to admit the same to Lana, and I don’t know if I can do that. I’m not sure how she would react. As nice as she’s been to me, there has to be a limit. I just haven’t reached it, and if I can help it, I never will.
“I guess that makes sense,” Katie murmurs. “I don’t think I could work in admin. I’d get too bored. All that sitting around. Blah! I’d get a fat ass in no time.”
I can’t help but laugh.
She giggles. “Right?”
I shake my head. “I doubt it. You’re too young to worry about that.”
“I’m not that young,” she protests. “How old do you think I am?”
Uh oh. You walked right into that one, didn’t you, Robin?
“Oh … Um …” I start, trying to decide what she might find insulting. “Nineteen?”
It’s older than I actually think she is, but it looks like I’m bad at the age-guessing game.
She laughs, and wipes under her eyes. “I’m twenty-three.
If you’d met me when I was nineteen, you would have walked the other way to avoid me.
I was a hot-mess. Fashion victim, in college and confused about what I wanted to do with my life, and, somehow, I got stuck with a mentally abusive idiot for a boyfriend while also not technically being in a relationship …
Yeah, you try to work that one out for me. It was bad.”
“Wow.”
“This is the me I’m proud of,” she admits, doing a spin in front of me.
“My dating life might be non-existent, but at least I’m no longer attracted to idiots.
I’ve got a job that puts me on the path to a career I actually want, and I have a nice place to stay that has the best security. I’m steps ahead of most girls my age.”
“Sounds like you’re happy here.”
“I am. I think you will be, too.” She looks me over curiously before her lips curve into a vaguely mischievous smile. “You know, your hair is a gorgeous color, but it’s also really long, so you might want to tie it back before we start working. It’ll make all the running around easier.”
“Oh … I didn’t think about that.”
Mainly because I don’t have anything I can use to tie it back.
I thought about using the lace I used to use as a belt, but I didn’t want to look weird.
Working here isn’t going to be like working at Ivan Hamilton’s house.
I’m not mostly going to be invisible, fading into the background while I clean.
People are going to see me, and they’ll notice if I’m doing stuff that isn’t normal.
The last thing I want is to be noticed.
She reaches out and touches a strand of my hair. “If you want, I could plait it for you? I used to French-braid my little sister’s hair for dance competitions. I haven’t done it for a while, but I remember how, and I think it would suit you.”
Clearly, she’s excited by the thought of it, and it does sound nicer than the ponytail I would have given myself if I had anything to tie my hair back with.
“I don’t have any hair ties,” I confess.
She nods. “That’s okay. I have a whole box of bands and clips in my locker. Come with me. I’ll grab what we need, and we can get you ready in the ladies’ room down here.”
“Do we have time?” I ask, as she takes my hand in hers.
Smiling, she tells me, “If there’s one thing I live by, it’s that there’s always time for a girl to style her hair. Don’t worry about being late. I’ll take full responsibility if we are.”
I let out a breath as I let her head me back toward the kitchen.
If she’s not worried about getting started late, I don’t have to be either.