13. ELLIE

ELLIE

Carleen wishes me good luck after shoving half a sandwich in my mouth, determined that I feed myself. She also made me change. Twice. Saying that I was showing too much skin for an interview. Says her. The crop top jeans combo I had put on the first time was covering a lot more of my body than I’m used to.

She nearly approved of the fitted white shirt, leather pants, and thick black boots that just scream attitude. It came with the territory of my bike and hanging with kids in high school that I maybe should have stayed away from. In the end, I’m stuck in one of her peach skater dresses, paired with a long-sleeve jacket and flat sandals. I see the reasoning to look a little more professional but goddess, I am out of my element. At least Carleen didn’t make me shed my earrings. I reach up to touch them along my ears, sighing with relief that they’re all still there. As an added measure, I roll my tongue across my bottom lip, feeling those rings as well and clanking the bar through my tongue against them.

All good.

The walk to the café in Casper County doesn’t take long, the cool breeze and sunshine a very different vibe from what I was doing a few hours ago. My mind drifts to the terrible notion I figured out before my nap and I count through the days again and again and again. There’s no flaw in the calendar and I’m three days late. I make a point to grab a test or a few on the way home and pray to whoever is up in the sky that I’m not pregnant.

There is no time for babies.

I step into the café, eyes peeled for the woman I’m supposed to be meeting. My phone dings and I pull it out, frowning at the picture that shows up and the text that follows.

Heath

~ Pic ~

This is her. Don’t forget to smile. But not too big.

Which means the woman I’m meeting is probably a stickler for rules and also a bitch. I sigh and do another sweep, finding my target. She looks vaguely familiar and her regal beauty outshines nearly everyone in this high-end café shop that looks more like a bar than a place to lounge. Her back is ramrod straight as I approach, the tight smile on her lips telling me that she means business.

I slide into a chair opposite of her, the woman snapping her fingers to grab the attention of a waitress. She mumbles something about two espressos, looks at me, and then orders cream as well. I’m mildly offended even if I do prefer cream with my caffeine. I take the few moments of silence to catalog her sharp features, dark skin, and curly hair that make mine look shoddy. Her deep brown curls are full and spill down her shoulders, accentuating the navy blue pantsuit she dons. Her hands sit folded atop the table, long manicured nails with designs that must have cost her a fortune.

The woman clears her throat, tearing my attention away from her attire. “You must be Ellie. I thought you’d be a male the way that Heath mentioned you but it won’t matter. I’m glad he sent over a picture.” She tilts her head and I nod, not sure if she wants me to verbally answer or not. “Look, this is a serious job. No funny ideas. No snooping. Just clean and leave.”

I frown, not understanding the added reminders. Do I look that out of place? “Yes, of course.”

Her gaze narrows. “It’s yes, ma’am.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I repeat back to her. This is going to be annoying, bending my rather snarky personality to a woman who seems like she’ll throw me out on my ass at the first sign of disrespect.

Her tight smile returns as she pulls out a hefty folder, I’m assuming with all of the duties required to clean the massive McMansions that Caper County usually holds. “My son had to get married to that trash Omega who conveniently can’t work anymore. He can’t cook and clean either, duties that shouldn’t be left to my Alpha son as they aren’t his responsibility. That’s where you come in.”

I don’t know what to make of this woman. Her distaste for her son-in-law is harsh but even more so, it seems tempered by the fact that her son married an Omega that she didn’t approve of. I’ve never seen that kind of attitude directed at an Omega. They were supposed to be these loveable, irresistible individuals that Alphas fight over for just a taste. Her hatred seems unfounded and that makes me immediately dislike her.

“I’ll need you a few hours every day to tidy up, ensure that everything is replaced, washed-”

“Every day?” I cut her off. It’s not that I can’t but that’s a few more hours than Heath explained. I quickly suck in my bottom lip and bow my head, remembering his words not to provoke her. “I can do that.”

“Good.” She pushes the folder to me just as our espresso arrives. I moan as the rich aroma reaches my nose, not displaying any etiquette in the slightest when I drag mine closer and dip my face inches from it.

Ignoring the woman in front of me, I pour nearly the entire small cup of cream into my espresso and then chug it, savoring the rich flavors on my tongue. Rich people”s coffee is definitely on another tier. I’m not much of an espresso drinker but I could drink this every day. Too bad it probably cost like fifteen dollars. They also probably have goats in the back, milking them daily for the freshest milk.

I crack a smile and then quickly fix it as I open the folder. An NDA stares up at me and I realize how serious this job is. That it isn’t just cleaning a McMansion. That it includes stepping into the lives of the rich and famous and their privacy is everything. I finger a few of the pages, the packet similar to an NDA we signed before the party almost a month ago.

It’s nothing I haven’t seen before—no taking or sharing pictures, lifestyle and things we hear stay in the room, and items remain where they are supposed to. I nod my way through, signing where it asks until I hit the last page. Maybe I should have read each and every page but this woman doesn’t seem like one to ask for a kidney, a woman I don’t have a name for.

“The few rooms you are to ensure are clean are in the packet, as well as what I expect from you. The family won’t be home while you clean. I’d show you around but the schedule doesn’t allow for it. The butler will give you the grand tour. Remember that there are cameras. No part of my son’s life or what is in that house should leave it. Should I find that you are the leak, there will be legal consequences.”

I silently agree even though I’m raging that she once again dismisses her son-in-law. It’s about her son’s comfort, never his Omega. Worse, I feel like I’m being set up for failure. What kind of boss doesn’t at least show me around the house and point everything out for me? “Yes, ma’am.” I stutter over ‘ma’am’, the word foreign on my tongue just like the first time I said it.

“Ms. Astor is also perfectly fine.”

The color drains from my face as I make the connection. Ms. Astor looks familiar because she reminds me so much of Macon, however, where Macon is sweet and gentle, Ms. Astor is cold and closed off. That also means that I’ve been hired to clean their house. I’ll be surrounded by their scent, their life, and more importantly, back in a situation I promised myself I wouldn’t return.

I told myself that I would leave them in my memories. This is doing anything but.

Bile rises in my throat as I gather up the folder. “I’ll be there. Thank you, ma’am. For this and the coffee. Excuse me.” I dash out of my seat and to the bathroom, nearly missing one of the toilets before purging the contents of my stomach. Most of that is nerves but deep down I know that the uneasy feeling in my stomach is for an entirely other reason.

Papers scatter on the floor as I continue to heave before falling back on my ass, examining my life choices. There’s no time to figure that out here, though. I need to be at home, beneath my covers, possibly with a few of those sandwiches Carleen made.

I gather myself up and all but run the distance home, only making one pit stop before I stumble into the apartment. A paper bag clutched in one hand, my phone and the folder in the other, Carleen looks up from the kitchen. Several professional boxes are packed along the counters as she steps out to look at me, frowning.

“Did you not get the job?”

“Oh, I got it. It’s a lot. I’ve got homework. I’ll be in my room.” I rush past her and slam my bedroom door behind me, knowing that Carleen won’t push the issue until she returns from dropping off her order. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I dump the contents of the paper bag onto my bed, staring at the five pregnancy tests I snatched up from the drugstore. All different brands and colors. I nervously joke ‘best out of five’ but I know it doesn’t work like that.

Three minutes later, I’m pacing along my bedroom carpet, trying not to stare at the little cups set up on my dresser. I blow out a deep breath, clasp my hands together, and then pull them out one by one.

Pregnant

Pregnant

Pregnant

Pregnant

Pregnant

I crumple to the floor, confused and disoriented. I’m pregnant. With their child. And now, they are technically my bosses. The same men who are also my mates. Life has never been this fucking complicated for me. I should call Ms. Astor and refuse the job. I should find some way to speak with the Astors and let them know that there might be a child between us. I should reach out and schedule a doctor’s appointment for a conversation.

I do none of those things, opting to drag out one of my textbooks and start studying for an exam next week because avoidance will definitely make this problem disappear.