Karter

KARTER

I WAS IN a shit mood.

The disorganization of the employees at the company I worked for was nothing new, and I'd been inconvenienced by it dozens, if not hundreds of times in my career. Still, none of the annoyances I'd endured came close to losing the cute-faced omega in the café with the tiny waist and soft, shy voice. I'd taken one phone call, a call that should have been brief and easily resolved, but by the time I'd talked a marketing manager off the ledge, the very lovely man and his adorably polite little brother had vanished. When I noticed they were gone, I'd rushed to the door to see if I could flag them down, but they'd already turned some corner and disappeared from my sight. Irritating.

It's true he was probably a little young for me, and his t-shirt featuring a potted cactus with a Free Hugs sign hanging from it didn't inspire confidence that he was an old soul trapped in a college student's body, but I had been too attracted to care.

I was the VP of marketing at a successful beauty and lifestyle brand that my mother had started from the ground up when I was a kid. That wasn't to say that I hadn't started from an entry-level worker in the mail room and painstakingly climbed my way up the corporate ladder to attain my current comfy position. I knew very well that my childhood had been more privileged than most, but in my 33 years of life, I could hardly remember a time that Farrah Morrison had cut me an inch of slack.

She was a bossy and brash alpha, and often just a little too much in the personality department. I loved her dearly, as well as my omega mother. She was more sentimental and sweet, though she couldn't be accused of cutting me too much slack in the effort department either. I supposed that was why I was sitting pretty in a high-paying position with two degrees in business administration and advertising.

I had no complaints, missing omega from the café notwithstanding. I did what I liked, when I liked. I didn't avoid dating, though I rarely felt more than a brief connection or a mildly pleasant sense of companionship. I enjoyed my work, usually, and enjoyed my free time. It had been quite a while since I'd been presented with an insurmountable challenge or something I coveted but couldn't have. Maybe that was why the incident stung so bitingly.

I knew for a fact that the pretty young thing was unmarked, without a mate. Otherwise I wouldn't have been able to smell his unique pheromones so distinctly. The scent had been mouthwatering, simple and sweet but homey and comforting. Like fresh sugar cookies and warm vanilla.

But it wasn't like I could hire a sketch artist and post on local groups asking if anyone recognized him, could I? Could I? It took me a concerning amount of seconds pondering it to decide that I couldn't.

Even if I was willing to, which frankly I couldn't deny I would be, he'd looked a bit skittish, like someone who would be scared off by such a grand gesture. It looked like I was screwed, unless I happened to run into him again. But in such a large and populated city, the chances of that were pretty much slim to none.

Hence why my mood was shit.

A knock on my office door dragged me out of a now bittersweet fantasy of those dreamy hazel eyes, warm caramel with lush green threaded through.

"Come in."

Lucas Cromwell was a successful model that we had used in several of our advertising campaigns. His fair and flawless complexion was perfect for makeup, and his thick, curling locks of dark hair were perfect for showing off the efficacy of our haircare products. Not to mention his toned figure made any piece of clothing look sexy and on-trend. He was the kind of omega that most alphas would dream of being with. We'd gone to the same private school, and had attended many of the same professional events since.

I detested him and regretted the day my marketing team had ever made the proposal to bring him on board. I further regretted the night that I'd gone out for drinks with the team to celebrate a particularly successful product launch and had somehow ended up with Lucas on my lap, and then later in my penthouse apartment. I could only thank any of the deities that may or may not exist that I'd gained my wits and composure before anything permanently scarring had happened between us. I'd made my disinterest in pursuing anything further as clear as possible, but Lucas was one of the pushiest, most persistent people I'd ever had the displeasure of knowing. It was obvious he was not used to hearing the word no.

"We just finished the shoot for the new shimmery body oil," Lucas informed me as he approached my desk and laid down a manila envelope bulging with photos. "But these are the physical proofs from the shoot last week. Pamela wanted you to sign off on the ones you approve."

"Bringing proofs to my office is an intern's job. You don't need to be here."

"Well, I was on my way out anyway, and so I offered to swing them by. I thought you'd appreciate the efficiency."

"Well, I don't."

Lucas was unfazed by my dismissive tone. I wasn't sure if it was because his insane levels of confidence rendered him immune to rejection or because he was used to me. "I can't wait for you to see the proofs from the one we just did. They're going to be so sexy."

I knew very well how sexy they would be, as I'd been the one to approve the nude-illusion concept months earlier. Unfortunately for him, his personality left such a bad taste in my mouth that my brain couldn't even allow me to see him in that way.

"Is there anything else?"

"Actually, yeah, there is. You know your moms were at that barbecue at my parents' this past weekend?"

"So?" I'd been invited, by Lucas himself of course, and had very definitively declined to appear.

"Well, I just happened to overhear them talking about how you aren't settled down yet, and how they're worried they won't be getting any grandkids at this rate."

I knew Lucas would lie about anything for attention, but I was sure this story, at least, was based in truth. I was an only child, so I was their only chance, and I knew they were eager for the pitter-patter of little feet.

"Isn't that a shame?" I answered flatly. Even if I had been interested in him, I was fairly certain someone like Lucas would have the paternal instincts of a rabid honey badger. Definitely not the type of omega I'd consider breeding with. "I have work to do."

"Fine, fine," Lucas sighed. "But think about it. We work in similar industries, we come from the same background. Our families are already friendly. We could be a really sexy power couple, don't you think?"

"Close the door behind you," I ordered, with no intention of answering the question. Once the door had closed with a snap, leaving me in the solitude and silence of my office, I let out a slow sigh.

Determined to push the annoying interaction out of my head and forget about the warm vanilla-scented omega that could have been, I buried myself in my work.