Chapter 7
Lark
The OmegaBox executive dashboard glows across my monitor.
Our new campaign numbers just populated and I’m digging through data on engagement spikes, influencer conversions, projected subscriber growth.
Cammie’s been thrilled about comments and click-through rates for weeks, but I care about one thing right now: actual revenue.
My phone vibrates again, face down next to my trackpad.
Buzz.
Buzzbuzz.
Buzz.
I ignore it.
Boss Bitch mode engaged.
Don’t be cranky. That could be our alphas texting.
My normally quiet omega has been very chatty since I left the clinic’s office.
Buzz.
For the love of—
I flip the phone over.
Riverside Elite: 22 new notifications.
Twenty-two.
My omega smirks. It could have been thirty if you’d asked the one about positions.
It’s only been one hour since I sent my first message.
This is fine. This is normal. Twenty-two alphas responding to a light, neutral, absolutely-not-heat-coded question about celebrity crushes.
I roll my eyes at her, then tap the app.
Twenty-three messages now.
Fantastic.
KnotSovereign88: Riley Steele. No contest.
I blink. Who?
Google search.
Oh.
Oh no.
My screen is filled with pictures of a brunette omega, spread eagle, usually biting a long pink nail, in various states of undress. Curious, I click on one.
Riley Steele: Gagged and Knotted—Extended Edition
My omega leans forward. He’s… not for us.
Absolutely not.
Goodbye, KnotSovereign.
PrimeAlphaEnergy: Why would I need a celebrity when I could have you?
My omega melts for exactly half a second before remembering his username is PrimeAlphaEnergy and recoils.
Standards. We have them.
I consider typing back: We are not there yet.
Instead, I close the chat.
No.
OceanBuilt47: Zoe Kravitz. She seems cool.
Better. Zoe Kravitz is generally considered a knockout. Safe choice. No red flags for Ocean… yet.
My phone buzzes.
Twenty-four messages now.
CoffeeGuy789: Julia Louis-Dreyfus. I binged VEEP last month and she stole the show.
My omega straightens.
Oh, we like him.
“We do not like anyone.”
But, seriously, What are the odds?
Julia.
Louis.
Dreyfus.
I lean back in my chair and replay my conversation with Cammie.
“If they say VEEP, then obviously they like women. Smart, in-charge women.”
I re-read the message.
No winky face.
No mention of knots or slick.
Just… JLD.
Omega219: Strong choice.
My phone buzzes immediately. Was he waiting for my response?
He was waiting, my omega whispers.
She’s delighted.
CoffeeGuy789: This is the part where you tell me yours.
Omega219: Oh. Yeah. I don’t actually have one.
CoffeeGuy789: Don’t lie. You have one.
How very... alpha of you CoffeeGuy. Calling me out like that.
Sooo alpha. My omega takes out a hankie and fans herself.
Heat blooms in my center.
Probably burning off the rest of my margarita.
Omega219: He’s not a real celebrity.
CoffeeGuy789: Water delivery guy??
Omega219: Lol. No. CEO. Carry Grace. He’s so smart.
CoffeeGuy789: Brains are your aphrodisiac?
Omega219: One of them. I’m well rounded. :D
Dammit.
Emojis don’t work on this stupid app.
Omega219: Ignore that last part. This app is emoji-hostile.
CoffeeGuy789: Respect. Retro charm is underrated.
CoffeeGuy789: :)
My omega does a happy little wiggle. He noticed. And he APPROVED!
I sort of hate that I agree with her.
CoffeeGuy789: So. Carry Grace. Smart how?
Omega219: Devastatingly good with numbers???
CoffeeGuy789: Ha! My packmate is a scientist.
CoffeeGuy789: He’ll be happy to know that there’s hope for him.
Omega219: Oh, yeah. Smarts are sexy.
CoffeeGuy789: What about street smarts?
Omega219: Those too.
Omega219: All smarts are sexy.
CoffeeGuy789: You don’t actually care about celebrity crushes, do you?
Omega219: Screening question.
CoffeeGuy789: Explain.
It’s a safe opener.
Not invasive.
Doesn’t refer to knots, heats, slick, or any of the other omega-alpha biological responses that are incredibly embarrassing given the situation.
Omega219: Helps me determine if you have depth.
CoffeeGuy789: Did I pass?
Gold star! Extra credit! My omega is practically shouting now.
Omega219: You’re doing very well.
CoffeeGuy789: :D
I wait for a new message to pop up, but it continues to blink. Ball’s in my court, I guess.
Should I ask the one about the pasta?
Tell him I’ll chat again tomorrow?
Definitely too soon to know his knotting position preferences!
My phone buzzes.
CoffeeGuy789: I wasn’t sure what to expect from this.
CoffeeGuy789: You’re interesting Omega219.
My stomach does a little flip.
I type: You too.
Erase. Too boring.
I type: Thanks.
Delete that too. Too disinterested.
Omega219: You’re not so bad yourself.
There.
Controlled yet flirty-adjacent.
CoffeeGuy789: Gotta go. Break is over.
That’s… disappointing.
No, no. That can’t be right.
Inconvenient, I decide. Much better word.
Omega219: Same.
Omega219: Numbers are calling my name.
CoffeeGuy789: I’ll have my own screening question tomorrow.
Omega219: Let me guess: coffee?
CoffeeGuy789: Now I have to dig deeper.
I volunteer as tribute! Dig deep right here, CoffeeGuy!
I mentally shove my omega back into a corner before scrolling through a few more messages.
BaseballFan33: Gemma Chan.
YeahBoyyyy!!: Sabrina Carpenter.
KnotMyFirstTime: Princess Peach from Super Mario Brothers.
They all blur together.
Well maybe not the Princess Peach one.
But not CoffeeGuy’s. My omega rolls on her back, dreamy. He was interesting.
He was interesting. And nice. But I don’t say that to her.
I lay my phone face down on my desk. Time to get back to business.
The numbers on the dashboard blink back at me. My tech team built something clean and idiot-proof. You don’t have to be a numbers person to understand this dashboard. It’s very modern.
Retro charm is underrated.
I scribble a giant smiley face on a sticky note and affix it to my screen before shuffling to the kitchen to pour another iced latte from the fridge. It’s not as good as what I get from Nayda’s Café, but I suddenly have a craving.
I don’t realize I’m smiling until my cheeks ache.