Chapter 39 #2
"So," Loz says, drumming her fingers on the arm of the couch, "you're telling me that you do want to take on the MD role of my heat support research charity, the one where I had visions of researching ways to build some lovely affordable heat hotels for low-income omegas, maybe design some new heat-appropriate sex toys…
but make it focus on research for developing global standards and guidelines for sustainable heat support work? "
I nod. "Yep. And—" I pull up my notes from my phone, clearing my throat, "investigating best practices for minimum training requirements for heat supporters, getting coverage for heat support included in health insurance, and a trial to check how accessible support for heat supporters affects rates of injury, burnout, and STI acquisition.
Oh, and workers' compensation coverage for heat-acquired injury treatment, unintended bond removal, and STI treatment.
Uh. To start with. It's not a full solution yet, of course. "
There's a slightly skeptical expression plastered on Loz's face. "Fuckin' oath, Dellie. That's… a lot." She blinks a few times.
I let my phone drop into my lap. I take a deep breath.
"Loz—this is how we support omegas. All omegas.
Pack Zed have already shown everyone that sex with horny omegas isn't a 'perk' of heat support, but a form of care, and the people who are employed to do it generally aren't getting any more out of it than any other carer gets out of caring for their clients.
Omegas don't owe sex. They shouldn't have to have it if they don't want it.
But the way that so many heat support workers are treated implies that sex is part of their compensation.
If the packs aren't on Heatseekers, their pay and conditions are set up as though their compensation isn't just financial.
And that's how you end up with the horror stories. "
I glance at Zander, who's leaning against the wall of the lounge next to the rest of his pack. He nods.
Loz isn't saying anything, but her mouth has developed the little twist it gets when she's thinking through something and doesn't want people to realise.
A little smile twitches across my mouth.
"We don't need to change the narrative, Loz.
Pack Zed have done it already. We just gotta help make it more consistent.
And—look, it doesn't have to be me, right?
I'll level with you—I don't have a frigging clue how to do it.
But… I don't think anybody does. Not in terms of the big picture.
But what I do know how to do is ask the silly questions, find the people who know what they are doing, and get them on the same page—and get 'em moving. "
Allen clears his throat. "And at noticing details that matter that other people don't."
Loz raises an eyebrow and folds her arms. "You are a fucking effective cat herder, Dels. No question. But… d'you really think this is the direction we should go?"
"Loz, nobody supports the supporters. Nobody." I pause for a moment, then frown. "Actually, I should say," I add, looking around at Pack Zed, "not until you did."
She snorts. "I didn't do shit. That was all your boys."
I raise an eyebrow. "Bullshit, Loz. Calling you on that.
When one of your heat supporters was hurt, you very subtly made sure a physio knew about Nate's back.
You opened your home to my pack while you were nesting so Pack Zed could get support and care, even though my pack's scent kinda puts your omega off.
You frigging negotiated an appearance fee for my pack!
Don't give me any of that. That's all you. "
She's trying to hide a smile.
I glance at Pack Zed. "How different was it? Having support."
Zander, their Pack Alpha, smiles, his teeth gleaming white against his obsidian skin. "Honestly, we're going to put having supporters around in our contracts from here on out. Not that you aren't amazing, Lauren—"
She sniffs. "'Course I am."
Zander clears his throat. "It makes a big difference. No matter how amazing an omega is—heats are a lot. But this time, I could… decompress a bit without feeling like I was burdening my packmates—who were exhausted too. Having support lets us focus on the omega. Make sure she—"
Leo clears his throat, "or he," he adds.
"Right. Or he—is getting what they need.
And Pack Xerxes—well, they know better than most what it takes to get through a heat.
Uh, for the record, we're definitely gonna want you guys to come back every season, by the way.
Same rates as Loz negotiated for you. So long as you're cool with it, Dellie, of course. "
"Even just having someone else doing the laundry made a huge difference," Nate adds. I hear Zeke scoff behind me, but I feel pride in the bond.
I smile. "Loz, this could be the start of something big. And—'specially after the crap you've been through—if it's your charity—"
Zander clears his throat. "We really want to help with this as well. If you're okay with it, we'd make the theme of your season 'Support Supporters.' Show how you did it and made it work, and how the most glamorous omega on the planet supported her supporters."
She glares at them. "I assume that would include a donation of at least four point two five percent of the net profit?"
Zander laughs. "We were going to do five percent net. For this season and all future seasons. And include the logo in the credits, along with a donation hotline and website."
I smile. Zander winks at me.
Nerves twang in my chest. I don't want to say the part that scares me the most, but I know I have to.
"Uh. I know it doesn't have to be me who does this.
And I know I said before I didn't want to take the job, 'cuz I was worried about a new PA screwing you over—but we have to be in New York next week for the Second Designation Project anyway, and all the big designation-focused charities have a base there, so it makes sense to base it out of there, and—and Trix got fed up with her boss and quit her job again a couple of weeks ago, and said she could help you out until we find the perfect replacement for me, and if we're all in New York I can give her a proper handover, and as annoying as she is, you know she only wants to do right by you—um, if you still want me to take this on, that is—"
"Babes, I say this with love, but you need to shut the fuck up now.
" Loz sighs and leans forward, shaking her head, her lips twitching.
"Well, shit. There go my lovely low-income heat hotels.
And my PA. Dammit." She huffs out an exasperated sigh and stands, then bursts out into a giant grin and wraps me in an enormous hug.
"Can't believe I finally got you to swear.
Trix owes me a pineapple." She pulls away from me and grabs my shoulders, staring into my eyes.
"You gotta be the one who runs with this, babes.
Nobody else'll get it done." She leans back into the hug, pulling me close again. "I'm so fucking proud of you."