Chapter 17 #3
“The apologies are all mine, Mrs. Hale. I didn’t mean to bother you,” the beta woman’s formal tone is distant, unlike her compassionate touch. “I came to drop off some papers that require a signature from Mr. Hale. There was a delivery in the lobby, so I brought that up as well.”
She motions her hand towards the counter and I look over. A white box and stack of folders sit on it, their delivery gone unnoticed by me as I threw up.
I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, smearing any of the lip gloss that’s managed to cling on.
“Thank you, Claire. He’s a bit busy at the moment.
I’ll let him know once he’s available.” Despite how terrible I feel, my responses mirror hers in their formality.
All the practice I’ve had playing the role of their omega is paying off.
“Are you okay?” Claire’s question throws me off. That’s not part of the script I’ve been trained for. The pack’s assistants have always been detached from me. I follow her gaze to my hand, turned red from the bracelet sitting on my wrist.
“Oh.” Nothing’s funny, but I laugh. “Just perfect. Any chance you can help me take this off, please?”
Claire nods, fumbling with the clasp. It takes her a few tries, but she manages to get it eventually.
“There we go. That’s beautiful,” she holds it out towards me.
“You think so?” Oddly enough, it occurs to me this is the longest conversation I’ve had with a woman around my own age in who knows how long. At a non-networking event, at least. My next words come out of impulse. “You can have it.”
“Really?” She looks shocked. “I couldn’t possibly, I mean, how much was this?”
I shrug. “Too much, probably. The box and bag are out there.” I would go out and grab it for her, but I’m not about to surround myself with those pheromones again. “It’ll do you more good than it would me.”
For a beta, she’s not much taller than me. We stand face to face as she examines my expression, like she’s expecting me to take it back or say it was a joke. I’m serious, though. I don’t even want to look at the gift. She can keep it, sell it, or throw it into a river for all I care.
It takes me pressing her fingers closed over the jewelry and reassuring her it’s okay for her to accept it.
Why not, after all? Call it pathetic, but I enjoyed her company. The way she’d held my hair back had been tender. It reminds me of the friends I used to have back home, before I joined the pack. I always miss friends, but I long for having female friends the most.
It would have been nice if she had been able to stay longer. I could use the company. Once she leaves, I return to the kitchen. I leave the folders as they are, but lift open the box.
It’s a cake. It may not be as pretty as the one sitting on the dining table, but this one is covered in chocolate frosting. Ferrero Rochers and strawberries sit on top. It’s exactly the type of cake I would have chosen for myself, if anyone had bothered asking me.
There’s a small envelope tucked into the side of the box. I pull it out trembling hands, opening the card inside.
Happy Birthday, Ariana.
We hope you enjoy this small gift.
From,
Sebastian, Jason, Evan and Nico Coates
They remembered. My birthday, and the fact that I’d be celebrating it a day early on top of that. I trace my finger over their signatures, noting the way they dot their I’s and cross their T’s.
My legs move of their own accord, wincing as the smell of Amy grows stronger the closer I get to the hallway. I keep moving forward regardless, a woman on a mission. My phone’s still on my nightstand, where I put it on charge last night.
Scrolling through my contacts is quick, considering I don’t have many. I find Evan’s first, hover over it hesitatingly for what isn’t the first time. Only this time, my finger isn’t lingering over the delete button.
I press message before I can change my mind, only to pause again. What do I say? Should I write hi first? Or just thank you? Ending it with a period seems too formal, but an exclamation mark sounds too excited.
Hi, this is Ariana. Thank you for the cake :)
Not too formal, not too casual. I hit send and the response is almost immediate. I watch the typing bubble appear, then disappear, then appear again with text.
Of course! Happy birthday! Have any big plans?
When do I ever? I don’t say that, though. I answer his question with one of my own instead.
Want to go for a walk?
If the first reply was near immediate, this one is instant.
I’d love that. When would you like to go?
Responding with “now” seems too eager.
How soon can you meet me in Scentral Park?
Evan’s bubble starts typing, then disappears. I watch the phone nervously, waiting for a response. I’ve barely put it face down when it buzzes and I snatch it up again.
On the way!
On the way as in they’re leaving already? I’m not ready. My makeup’s smeared and the dress I’m wearing would be overdressed in the park.
I’ll probably be like half an hour.
He responds immediately again.
Take your time.
I don’t listen, not even waiting to see what the bubble indicating he’s typing will say. I rush into the closet for a change of clothes, burrowing their birthday card into the back of my sock drawer. Then I dash into the bathroom to wash my face.