Chapter 32 #3
“Stands for Digital Single-Lens Reflex,” she answers, her voice softening significantly compared to when she was directing her attention at me. “It’s a kind of camera used for shots of the stars and stuff. Could be a nice shot if this place is important to you.”
“Do you have one?” Beckham asks.
“Nah, the high-end ones are pretty pricey, and my mom...” her gaze darts towards mine as her expression tightens. “I wouldn’t have been able to make a purchase like that without her finding out.”
The others seem to know what that means, because they all offer her a series of understanding nods.
I don’t miss the way Everett pulls out his phone. Is he... looking at cameras?
These are certainly interesting pack dynamics.
Because I’m sure that’s what this is.
Even if they haven’t made things official, it’s one of those situations where the writing is on the wall.
“So, do you have one?” she asks, turning her attention back to me.
“I do. I’ll bring it.”
“Great,” she says. The tension in her expression eases a little when I don’t argue with her.
The rest of the afternoon passes like that: me bringing up suggestions for what I think should be included, them approving or denying ideas and including feedback of their own, all while I act as a passive observer to their dynamics.
Their very intimate and familiar dynamics.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m starving,” Beck groans.
“Chinese?” Elijah asks, his hand landing on his shoulder in a way that seems... rather close. But they are childhood friends, so maybe that’s just the dynamic of their relationship.
“Let’s do it,” Beck nods eagerly. “Here, do we have a group chat with everyone? I’ll send the menu there and we can hammer out everyone’s orders.”
And that’s how I get added to a group chat with Hollywood’s biggest male omega star, his entire team, and a nepo-baby influencer I can’t seem to drag my eyes away from.
“I can leave. I’ve got more than enough for a proposal,” I offer, shutting my laptop. “I can finish it from home.”
“Stay,” Everett offers. Well, from him it’s more of a command. “You can send your proposal after dinner.”
Who am I to argue with a free meal?
“Okay, thanks. Before I get working on that, where’s the bathroom?” I push myself to my feet, stretching a little.
Leo shows me the way to the bathroom down the hall.
When I open the door once I’m done, my steps falter. I blink down at Andromeda, her arms crossed over her chest.
“Do you... need the bathroom?” My brows are drawn down in confusion.
“Nope. I wanted to talk to you.”
I’m struck with a sense of déjà vu. It’s strange how such a small omega can make me feel so off-kilter. She’s right. She truly is nothing like I would’ve expected her to be.
Throughout our entire conversation, she was supportive, for the most part. She spoke up only when she knew she had something of value to contribute. Didn’t talk just to talk, like I’ve found a lot of people like her do.
Well, I guess technically not people like her since she’s nothing like the average out of touch nepo-baby.
“What about?” I ask warily.
“I want to help.”
I just blink at her.
“With the docuseries,” she continues, not deterred by my silence.
“You. You want to help?” I say, parroting her words back at her.
“That’s what I said,” she huffs, rolling her eyes.
“Look, I know it seems like you know your way around a camera, but I already have a camera person.”
“Okay, then I don’t need to do the actual filming.
I just want—” she lets out a soft sound of frustration.
“As much as it pains me to admit, this is a really cool project and you seem to really know your shit. I want to be a part of it in any way I can. You owe it to me after trying to blackmail me last night.”
I shove my hands into my pockets. My gaze darts towards the hallway, wary of one of the guys coming down and getting the wrong idea.
I’m not the one doing the cornering this time around, I swear.
Yeah, I don’t think that’d go down very well.
“So, you’re blackmailing me with the fact that I tried to blackmail you?”
“I mean, it worked with you, right? You’ve gotten way more than just the interview you wanted,” she pushes.
She has a point.
I can hear John laughing already. He’d lose his shit if I told him I’m being blackmailed into including someone on a project this big. He knows I historically don’t work well with others on my team. Too many cooks in the kitchen doesn’t fit well with my style of work.
“Fine,” I sigh. “We’ll start with you being the creative consultant or something.”
“I want to edit, too.”
I force myself to take a deep breath.
“We’ll see about that. I... Don’t share that with anyone on the projects I work on.”
“I’ll win you over,” she says, flashing me a toothy grin. “Okay, got what I needed, thanks.”
I blink after her, my feet rooted to the floor beneath me even after she disappears back down the hall.
She was right. She is different from how I thought she was.
I hate being wrong.
But even more than that, I hate the flare of curiosity I can’t shake. Who is the real Andromeda Sterling?