34. Quinn

34

QUINN

The scents of fresh paint and possibilities fill my lungs as I stand in the center of the newly transformed salon. My hands tremble slightly—excitement and nerves battling for dominance—as I arrange the scissors and combs on the counter. Each tool I line up with precision feels like another step toward making this dream a reality. It isn’t just about me, though, it’s about her. About us. About building something meaningful for our pack and Aria.

My scent, a familiar mix of lavender and bergamot, lingers in the air, mingling with the chemical tang of hair products. It’s a fragrance that feels like home now. This place, this moment, is everything I’ve worked for.

My phone buzzes in my pocket, yanking me from my thoughts. I glance down at the screen and see Evelyn Hartley’s name. My pulse quickens. Omega rights activist, local celebrity—having her step into our salon could change everything.

“Quinn speaking,” I answer, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Mr. Clarke, this is Evelyn Hartley’s assistant. Ms. Hartley would like to book an appointment this afternoon. She heard about your salon’s focus on omega rights and is eager to discuss potential collaborations.”

My breath catches. Collaborating with Evelyn? That could elevate us in ways I hadn’t even considered, but then I remember I have a meeting with Aria planned for this afternoon. We’ve been working on organizing an omega rights event, and we need to nail down a few details. Conflict buzzes in my chest, but only for a second.

“We’d love to schedule Ms. Hartley,” I say quickly, glancing at the time. “I’ll have Aria join us for the meeting. I think she’ll bring a lot to the conversation.”

After ending the call, I look around the salon, trying to imagine Evelyn sitting in one of these sleek leather chairs. It feels surreal. The bell above the door chimes, and Aria steps inside like a breath of fresh air. Her orange creamsicle scent immediately soothes my lingering nervousness.

“Well, if it isn’t the hair maestro himself,” she teases, leaning against the counter. There’s a playful gleam in her eyes as she takes in the salon. “You look like you’re about to go on stage at some big competition. Should I be worried?”

I laugh, though my mind is still reeling from the phone call. “More like preparing for a different kind of spotlight. Evelyn Hartley just booked an appointment for today. I want you to sit in the meeting with me. This could be big, Aria—huge, actually—for the salon and omega rights.”

Her eyes widen, excitement lighting up her features. “Evelyn Hartley? Are you serious? Quinn, that’s amazing!” She pauses, her smile softening. “But are we really talking about business or impressing her because you want to save the world and make everyone fall in love with you in the process?”

I give her a sheepish grin, rubbing the back of my neck. “Maybe a bit of both. The salon’s important to me, but with Evelyn involved, we could create something even bigger—a place that supports omegas and builds them up.”

Aria crosses her arms and tilts her head. “You’ve been talking about this since day one, and I’m with you, but let’s not just make it about the salon. This is about creating a safe space—not just for styling, but for everything.”

“Exactly.” I nod, feeling more certain with each word. “That’s why I need you there. You’ve been the driving force behind so much of this. I want Evelyn to see that.”

Her smile widens, and she reaches out, placing a hand on my arm. There’s always a spark when she touches me, something I can’t quite shake. “Time to put our code to the test. Let’s debug this meeting, shall we?”

We spend the next few minutes preparing, tossing around ideas for the conversation with Evelyn. Aria’s passion for omega rights radiates from her in waves, and I can’t help but admire her. She’s fierce, determined, and everything I want to be.

“Alright,” Aria says with a grin. “Let’s do this. Evelyn’s going to love what we’re about to pitch.”

“I hope so.” I smile back at her, feeling more grounded with her by my side. This isn’t just my dream—it’s ours.

The afternoon stretches out as we prep the salon for Evelyn’s arrival. At one point, I fiddle with the scissors again, adjusting their position for the third time when I hear Aria’s voice behind me.

“Quinn, are you seriously rearranging those scissors again?” She crosses her arms, amusement dancing in her eyes. “You’ve moved them like, what, twice already?”

I grin, turning around to face her. “Hey, precision is key. You never know when Evelyn Hartley might judge a salon by the angle of the shears. It’s basically the first thing activists look for.”

She rolls her eyes and steps closer. “Right. I should have known. You are the expert.”

“I am,” I say, leaning down a little, a smirk tugging at the corners of my mouth. “But you, my dear omega, are the expert in charming people. That’s why I need you next to me when Evelyn gets here.” I tap her nose lightly before straightening.

She swats my hand away, laughing. “Oh, so that’s the plan? I talk while you stand there looking pretty?”

“Pretty?” I raise an eyebrow, pulling her closer by her waist. “I was going for devastatingly handsome. Like, the face of the omega rights revolution.”

Her giggle is soft, but it makes my chest tighten. “Devastatingly handsome? Well, your hair’s looking pretty on point today. Instagram worthy, if I do say so myself.”

Before I can reply, she leans up and presses a soft kiss to my jaw, lingering just long enough to make my pulse skip a beat. “There,” she murmurs, pulling back with a smirk. “Just doing my part to keep you calm.”

I chuckle, my fingers still resting on her hip as she steps away. “You’re definitely doing something.”

We’re still laughing when her phone vibrates on the counter, interrupting the moment. Aria picks it up and glances at the screen.

“She’s here.”

I exhale, running a hand through my hair. “System check complete. Initiating Evelyn protocol. You good to launch?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” She grins, excitement shining through her nerves.

When Evelyn Hartley walks through the door, she owns the room. There’s a quiet power to her, something that says she knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. As much as I’ve prepared for this, I feel my heart race just a little faster.

Before I can speak, Aria steps forward, extending her hand with a confidence I’ve always admired. “Ms. Hartley, thank you so much for coming,” she says, her tone warm and professional. “We’ve been looking forward to this.”

Evelyn takes her hand, smiling graciously. “The pleasure’s mine. I’ve heard great things about what you’re building here.”

As Aria leads Evelyn over to the lounge area, I feel a swell of pride in my chest. Aria has this. I sit beside her as we dive into the conversation, letting her take the lead.

Her passion and drive shine through every word as she outlines our vision for the salon—not just a place for styling, but a community hub for omegas, a safe space for empowerment.

“And it isn’t just about the salon itself,” Aria says, leaning forward, her voice filled with conviction. “We’re working on programs—mentorships, job training, networking events. It’s about creating lasting change for omegas.”

Evelyn listens intently, her gaze sharp as she nods. “It sounds like you’ve thought this through. This isn’t just a business for you—it’s a movement.”

“Exactly,” I chime in, squeezing Aria’s hand under the table. “We want this to be a place where omegas feel seen, supported, and empowered. It’s more than just looking good—it’s about feeling strong.”

Evelyn leans back, crossing her legs, her expression unreadable. “I have to say, I’m intrigued, but tell me, how do you plan to navigate the recent changes in omega legislation? There’s been talk of stricter regulations on omega run businesses.”

The question catches me off guard, and I feel Aria tense beside me. This wasn’t part of our prep. I take a deep breath, my mind racing. “We’re aware of the challenges,” I begin, choosing my words carefully, “but we believe that by creating a strong community and working with allies like yourself, we can not only navigate these changes, but also be at the forefront of pushing for positive reform.”

Aria jumps in, her voice steady. “We aren’t just planning to adapt to the current climate. We’re aiming to change it. Our pack… Our team is committed to this cause, and we’re prepared to face whatever obstacles come our way.”

Evelyn’s eyebrow rises at the mention of our pack, but she nods, seeming impressed. “Well, you certainly don’t lack ambition. I’d be interested in partnering with you, perhaps on a larger event. Something that could draw attention to omega rights and bring more visibility to what you’re doing.”

After Evelyn leaves, the energy in the room feels electric. We did it. We actually pulled it off.

“Algorithm successful. Evelyn Hartley, consider yourself hacked,” I say, pulling Aria in for a celebratory kiss.

She laughs against my lips. “You were right, Mr. Hair Maestro. We crushed it.”

The rest of the evening flies by as we clean up the salon, chatting about everything Evelyn said. Every now and then, I catch Aria looking at me, her eyes soft, and I can’t help but feel like we’re on the verge of something bigger. This salon, this movement, isn’t just a dream anymore. It’s happening, and I wouldn’t want to do it with anyone else but her.

As I lock up for the night, a nagging thought tugs at me. How will this fit into our pack dynamics? Will the others understand how important this is? I push the worry aside, focusing instead on Aria’s warm hand in mine as we walk to the car.

By the time we’re heading home, I know one thing for sure—this is just the beginning. Noah, legislation, and pack dynamics are just more variables in our code. We’ll optimize as we go, and with Aria as my coprogrammer, there’s no firewall we can’t breach.