Chapter Two – Kayla
Mr. Bentley is an older gentleman, somewhere between his sixties and seventies. He sits behind an all-glass desk, a wall of windows behind him, as he watches me enter his office. He does not get up. He only gestures for me to sit in the chair facing his desk, his mouth drawn into a thin line.
My resume, along with my I.D., rests on that glass desk of his, and my stomach drops.
Oh, no. Does he know my I.D. is fake? Does he know I pulled most of the stuff on that resume out of my ass? The former could definitely get me arrested, and if I get thrown in jail, there’s no way in hell Jeremy would ever help me out.
“Miss Mackayla Prim,” Mr. Bentley speaks, and just the way he talks, I can tell he’s used to people dropping everything they’re doing and listening to every word he says. I suppose, if he’s the head of this company, that would make sense.
But why pull me up here? Why me?
“I am Bradford Bentley,” he pauses as he grinds his teeth, “Senior. I read over your resume. It’s…
interesting. If you’ve heard the news lately, you’ll know Alpha Life has recently gone through quite a bit of transition.
My son had the reins for a while, but after certain events, I’ve had to step out of retirement and try to course-correct, as it were. ”
Honestly, I don’t really pay attention to the local news…
mostly because our TV only works half the time in the apartment, and when it does, Jeremy is the one to decide what we watch.
The goings-on of a company like this? Not important for us to know.
Not until now, that is. Now, of course, I do wish I knew what this guy was talking about.
“We’re in dire need of fresh talent after a wave of ill-advised walkouts due to the actions of my son,” he goes on.
The man, as old as he is, radiates pure alpha energy—an über, if I have to guess.
Even with his age, though, he’s not frail; quite the opposite, in fact.
“Normally I would never agree to hire so many people at once. When I ran this company, I hand-picked every single member of our team, but we’ve simply grown too big for things to go back to the way they were. ”
I don’t say a word. I have the feeling this guy likes to hear himself talk. Most self-important people do, my brother included.
“There is one position I did not advertise for,” Mr. Bentley goes on, “because it is of a delicate nature, one I don’t want to publicize more than it already has been. Given your resume, I believe you would be perfect for such a… peculiar position.”
I find my words after that and ask, “What position is that, sir?”
“My son is… unable to come downtown for the foreseeable future. Legalities and all that. Because of such things, he has to remain at his home in the suburbs. But, even so, he is still a part of this company, and I will not have him make any more mistakes than he already has. I hold my blood to a high standard—perhaps too high, depending on who you ask. I want to find a dependable assistant for him, someone who can run between the house and this office at any moment, someone who will take the position seriously and give it all they have. You would be paid well, certainly, much better than any of these other positions you’ve held over the years.
I imagine it might be life-changing money for someone like you. ”
For someone like me.
There it is. A job offer, sure, but a job offer most people wouldn’t want to touch with a ten foot pole.
It sounds like his son got in trouble with the law, and now he’s on house arrest, but his father is still expecting him to contribute to Alpha Life, and he doesn’t trust his son to do anything on his own.
Someone like me just might be desperate enough to take the job.
People like this, alphas in power, especially über alphas, think they’re owed the world and that everyone should bow before them, but they’re also not stupid enough to believe that just anyone would stroll in and accept a position like this.
I hate that he’s right. I hate that he already knows how desperate I am. Something must’ve given it away in my resume, or maybe even my picture on my I.D. Or it was my address that tipped him off that I’m from a poor part of the city, desperate to get my hands on any crumb of the pie I could.
“I would also expect you to give me bi-weekly reports on my son, just between you and me. You will officially be my son’s assistant in every way, but you’d also be my eyes and ears in that house…
since apparently I cannot trust him to make smart decisions.
” He gives me a tight-lipped smile, and the expression does everything except make me feel better.
So I’d be his spy, basically. That sounds like a lot of pressure. What if his son turns violent?
“Are you sure someone like me would be good for a job like that?” I ask.
Mr. Bentley must be psychic or something, because he tells me, “My son would never hurt you, if that’s what you’re worried about—an understandable concern, given what he did and how small you are for a beta.
My son might have a bit of bark in him, but believe me when I say, he has absolutely no bite. ”
Hmm. Not sure if that makes me feel better or not.
“This is an incredible offer, Miss Prim—it is Miss Prim, right?”
His way of asking to make sure I don’t have a mate or a pack who’d worry about me.
Though there are half a dozen red sirens going off in my head, what he said before rings louder than those sirens: who am I to say no to an opportunity like this?
If I can do this for a while, I could get me and Jeremy out of that shitty apartment. We could find someplace better to live.
Maybe I could…
No. I’d never be free of my brother. That’s a fool’s wish right there.
I nod once and say, “Yes.”
Mr. Bentley smiles—he shows his teeth this time, too.
It’s a smile that honestly creeps me out more than it doesn’t.
Let’s just say I don’t think I’d trust this man with my life, with anybody’s life, really.
“Perfect. This is not a position for someone with a family. My son and I might just need you at all hours of the day and night.”
Oh, boy. That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.
“I’m aware, typically, when a job offer is on the table, one usually is given time to think it over, however this situation is quite different, as is the job. Before you leave this office, I would like your answer.”
I’m not used to making decisions like this by myself.
Normally my brother is the one who decides things and I have no choice but to go along with those decisions.
This is all on me, and… and I really don’t have a choice.
Mr. Bentley knows it. I know it. The only right thing to do is to accept the offer.
Mr. Bentley will be happy. My brother will be happy. I won’t be, and I suspect Mr. Bentley’s son won’t be happy, either, but I guess his son and I are the other sides of the coin. Our feelings never matter as much. We’re not as important.
Whether or not I can actually do what Mr. Bentley wants is up for debate. I’m not sure I have that much faith in myself, but I suppose I might as well try. This might be our ticket out of the slums.
So, I tell him the only thing I can: “I’ll take the position.”
His eyes, black as the blackest night, twinkle out of nowhere as he says, “Good. I’ll call my assistant and she’ll help you with the paperwork. How soon can you start? The sooner the better for everyone involved.”
“I—” I start to speak before I give myself time to think up an answer. “—can start tomorrow, I suppose.”
“Wonderful.” It’s clear he was expecting no less.
Everything happens in a whirlwind after that.
He calls in his assistant, a pretty young beta who, you know, actually looks like a beta.
She leads me from Mr. Bentley’s office, to an empty conference room, where she leaves me while she goes to fetch a packet of papers for me to fill out.
She also takes my I.D. and resume from Mr. Bentley and copies everything before handing me back the originals.
My mind is spinning as I fill everything out. I hope I’m making the right choice here. I hope Jeremy will approve.
This might be our big break. I don’t think it’s going to be easy by any means, but if I have to put in the work, then that’s what I’ll do. It’s not like I have any other choice. I’m in this, and there’s no backtracking.
I can’t say how long it takes me to fill everything out, but Mr. Bentley’s secretary only lets me leave once she’s sure she has everything she needs.
Before I leave, she hands me a small box—a new phone, the newest model, which probably costs more than my entire wardrobe and our monthly rent put together.
“Mr. Bentley’s number is written on the inside of the box, along with the address where his son lives,” she tells me.
“He’ll want you to call him twice a week with updates about his son, Mondays and Thursdays.
Occasionally he’ll wish to meet in person here.
” She wears a smile, but there’s no heart behind it. “Good luck with… everything.”
“Thanks,” I say, slow in taking the box. A new job and a new phone. How often can someone say they got both at once?
Look, I’m trying to be optimistic about this. It’s hard. The face she made and the way she said good luck made it sound like I’m going to need all the luck in the world to succeed in this. Honestly? I’m still not sure what the job is, besides being a glorified babysitter for his son.
One thing is for sure: Jeremy is either going to be ecstatic or he’s going to yell at me for making the wrong choice.
Jeremy is waiting just outside the building, standing in the shade. When he sees me leave the building, he instantly spots the box in my hand. “What the hell took you so long? And what the fuck is that?” His face is all scrunched up as he approaches me.
Before I can answer, he takes me by the arm and pulls me along, as if we have to put some distance between us and the Alpha Life building. He’s anything but gentle about it; he’s the very definition of rough, but after all these years, I’m used to it, as sad as it might be to admit.
It’s only when we’re a block away that he releases me and demands, “What happened in there?”
“I… got a job,” I say, although my voice comes out small.
It always does when Jeremy is in a mood.
If he thinks I’m questioning his capabilities or his decisions…
it’s not a pretty sight. He wants me to masquerade as a beta, and yet when it comes down to it, he wants me to remain submissive in a way only an omega can be.
“I figured you got something.” He takes the box out of my hands and opens it, immediately spotting the number on the note written inside.
“Whose number and address is this?” His tone changes, just like that.
I wouldn’t ever describe my brother as a jealous person, but he does take offense to anyone he might think try to take me away from him.
He’d never let that happen.
“It’s Mr. Bentley’s,” I say. “He’s the one who interviewed me and offered me the job.”
“Mr. Bentley? Am I supposed to know who the fuck that is?”
“He’s the head of Alpha Life.”
My brother’s mouth falls open. “No shit. How the hell did you manage to get an interview with that guy? I only interviewed with some low-level custodial manager. Fuck that shit. I ain’t cleaning bathrooms every day.”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe he told the woman in charge of the walk-ins to send him up anyone that looks interesting.
I… I think I was the only one he saw.” I don’t tell Jeremy I think it’s because I’m a nobody and I’m desperate for the money; hearing something like that wouldn’t make my brother leap for joy, even if this does turn out to be our big break.
“That’s fucking crazy.” He surveys the sidewalks around us before bringing his green eyes back to me. “When do you start?”
“Tomorrow morning. The address is where I’m supposed to go, I guess.”
Jeremy takes another glance at the address. “This is outside downtown. What the hell job did you get?”
Swallowing hard, I say, “I’m his son’s new assistant.”
He laughs at that, a deep belly laugh, like it’s the most hilarious thing in the world. “His son’s assistant? What does that even mean? Why pick you?”
All I can do is shrug. I don’t have the answers to those questions, and I suppose I might not know until I step foot in that house and meet Mr. Bentley’s son myself.
With a sigh, Jeremy closes the phone box—though he does not hand it back to me. “Let’s get home and discuss what our next steps should be.”
Next steps? Isn’t it good enough that I landed a job?
Course it’s not good enough. Nothing is ever good enough. There has to be more to this than he’s saying. If I know my brother at all, he’s already coming up with another plan, and I have the feeling I’m not going to like it one bit.