Chapter 19 #2
“Hello, may I help you?” the woman at the reception desk asks.
“I’m Beau Duvall’s new apprentice,” Bellamy says, head held high and making great eye contact. “He’s expecting me.”
Fuck yes he is.
“Oh yes,” she says brightly. “My name is Sheila. I’ll go tell him you’re here.”
Once she leaves, I lean toward Bellamy. “You have your phone, and can message or call me for anything,” I remind him.
His bag is against his hip, and holds his favorite paint brushes, lunch, a refillable water bottle, and a smoothie. His appetite is slowly growing, and since he’ll be here all day, I want to make sure he’ll be able to snack as he works.
“I do,” he drawls, lips twitching as his body presses against mine.
I think the puppy pile in our pack bed helped to break the ice. Or maybe it was my fucking Winter’s face while the pack made her come? Either way, it’s nice to see him showing affection.
“Bellamy,” Beau greets him with a smile, his eyes moving to see me as well. “Mr. Tremaine. Would you like a tour, sir?”
Ah, so he knows exactly why I’m here. True alphas don’t simply drop their omegas off and walk away. Our protective natures won’t allow us to.
Too much shit has happened to Bellamy for me to not ensure he’s safe here.
“Yes, please,” I say, my lips curving into a decent suggestion of a smile. I don’t want to appear too friendly. Beau and I aren’t friends, but I appreciate that he understands his place in society.
I’m not being shitty, this is simply the way things are. If I’m too nice, the threat no longer serves its purpose.
Beau walks me through the art school, showing high end classrooms, good lighting, and an outdoor courtyard for the students to enjoy.
“Artists often forget to come up for air,” Beau explains.
“We have a bell that goes off once every two hours for them to stretch, eat, etc. However, this is not an invitation to misunderstand why that exists. They can take as many breaks as is necessary. I’ve had students work themselves into passing out, and that’s why the bell system now exists. ”
Bellamy nods as if it makes perfect sense, so I let it be.
“This is your space,” Beau says. It’s a small room on the second floor of the building.
There’s good sunlight shining through the windows, an easel set up, a desk, and art supplies.
“I have several commissions for you to choose from. This isn’t a test, Bellamy.
Any one of the options is a good one, because there must be soul in art. ”
“I can choose?” Bellamy asks, surprised. “I figured I’d just be assigned something.”
I continue to listen to them while I walk around the small room, my hand in my pocket to find the surveillance device I have there. I want eyes and ears on my omega as much as possible. To say I’m paranoid is an understatement.
How am I to allow my omega to fly if I’m having a meltdown the entire time? No, it just won’t do. I meant it when I told Bellamy and Winter that I won’t control them. They’re free to live their lives, make their own decisions, even if they’re not what I’d choose.
Leaning against a wall, I press my fingers against it at a height that will allow me to see all angles of the room. I brought several in case I needed them. Shi will make sure the camera is working, and it’s so small, no one will notice it either.
“Do you have any questions for me, Mr. Tremaine?” Beau asks, turning to me.
Happy with the fact that the camera won’t fall when I step away from the wall, I shake my head.
“I think I’m good,” I reply, walking over to Bellamy. I’ll be damned if I don’t say goodbye to him because Beau is hovering.
My fingers press against Bellamy’s chin so it shifts up to look at me, and his lips twitch as he sees the possessiveness shining back in my gaze.
“Let me know if you need anything,” I murmur. “I’ll be running errands and close by.”
“I will,” he promises, his breath hitching as I press my lips against his.
The kiss reflects how I feel, and it’s quick and violent. Bellamy’s eyes glaze slightly as I lift my head, and I wink as I see he’s at a loss for words.
“Have a good day,” I purr. “Show me out, Beau?”
“Of…of course,” he stumbles as I glance at him.
I suppose my work is done here.
“Ah, Bellamy, here are the different commissions available for you to work on,” Beau continues, handing him a sheaf of papers. “Feel free to peruse it, and I’ll be back to see what you want to do.”
Beau walks me down the stairs, quiet and stiff. After having him constantly chattering about the school, it’s a bit unsettling.
“I just want to thank you for bringing Bellamy into the gallery the other day,” he finally says.
“You’re the one giving him a chance,” I remind him.
“I know. I’m doing it because of his passion, and how obvious it is that he wants this,” he says.
“Believe it or not, I know the look of someone who has lost things, Mr. Tremaine. There are few reasons that a serious artist doesn’t have a portfolio when they’re serious about doing something with it. ”
I incline my head without saying a word either way, because Bellamy deserves to build a life without the taint of the last year following him.
“I see,” Beau murmurs, making his own assumptions. “I’ll check in on Bellamy, and remind him to eat.”
My brow raises as I give him a genuinely surprised smile.
“He’ll try to overdo it to impress me,” he shrugs. “I need healthy artists, not starved ones with low blood sugar. Have a good day, Mr. Tremaine.”
“Thank you,” I say. “You as well.”
Stepping out of the school, I chuckle under my breath. I think Bellamy will be just fine, but that won’t stop me from regularly checking on him anyway.