“Leave us open to potential lawsuits, and I think the rest of the board would have no problem with me initiating the termination of your contract. You hired Ms Davies. She’s here trying to do her job, as set out by you.”
“And she’s staying in one of the Dacian towers,” Miranda shot back. “One of the buildings you had purpose-built for alpha packs and their omegas.”
Her eyes flicked past Tobias to rake down me, seeming to interpret my plush body in a whole other light.
As well she might, since it seemed like it was changing somewhat. I’d hoped to wake up with the wasp waisted, hourglass figure so many omegas seemed to end up with, but nope. My clothes didn’t quite fit right, though, making me want to tug at my skirt, fiddle with my buttons, and the alphas watched my fingers twitch with undue interest.
“Is that what you are?” She took a step forward, eyes narrowing, her nose sniffing the air. “You didn’t say anything about that. You—”
“Her designation is protected by federal law, just as everyone else’s is.” Tobias stepped into the space between us. “Take the day off, Miranda.” She began to splutter. “I don’t want to see you in here for the rest of the day, and the next time you want to come up to the executive floor, you’ll request a meeting. I’ll send out an email to the effect this morning.”
Finally seeming to realise she was dismissed, she turned on her heel and marched off, stabbing her finger into the button to summon the lift.
“So, do we have a meeting room we can adjourn to?” I asked, not wanting to lose my momentum. All four brothers were agreeing to meet in the same room, even if it was just to use me as an omega scratch and sniff sticker. My designation might get them in the door, but once I had them there, I could start to get them to see the direction we’d mapped out.
“Through here.” Tobias gestured to one of the open offices.
His, by the look of it. I grabbed my computer, notebook, and a pen, then followed him in, watching him turn on the projector as Max took off to gather Joey and anything else he might’ve needed. As I did my own preparation, though, I found I was bombarded by senses I’d never developed before.
I knew exactly where each one of them was at any given movement, feeling them roam around me in the office as I set up my computer, flicking through the project scope Max and I had set up. As they got closer, my spine would curve, tilting my hips back slightly, forcing the fabric of my skirt to become taut, then it would relax again when they pulled away. There was a low chuckle, an intention to say something, anything, when the door was pushed open and Max and Joey burst in.
“Are you gonna do this?” she hissed at me as we got out of the way, Max hooking his laptop up to the screen. “Are you gonna get these idiots to actually follow proper project management protocols and get some damn transparency? If you get this done, I’ll buy you a gold-fucking-plated dildo of your choice in celebration.”
“Why gold-plated?” I asked as my forehead wrinkled. “Wouldn’t that be kind of uncomfortable?”
“Not if it’s covering one of those fancy schmancy glass ones.”
“They always freak me the fuck out. All I can think about is what if they break?” I said.
“Break? Those things are made from freaking Pyrex. What the hell are you rocking downstairs there, girlie? A sarlacc pit?”
“Ready when you are, Sage.”
Max’s words broke through our heated whispering, so I straightened up and turned to face all four of them.
“Damn…” Joey hissed. “They look like they want to sit you in the middle of them and devour you whole.”
“Not helping!” I whispered back.
I smoothed my hands down my thighs to try and dry the sweat suddenly forming there, then stepped forward, conscious now I had their complete attention.
“I think you’re being set up to fail,” I said, watching their eyes widen, “and we think we know the way out of this.”
22
I’d worked it out that morning. If I was an omega, if they thought I was their mate, I’d get their undivided attention. I didn’t need to do this, didn’t need this job. They’d all but assured me I’d get paid anyway, just by lolling around on the couch and watchingGilmore Girlson repeat.
Except that wasn’t me.
I was one of those fucking weirdos who liked working, liked achieving, liked coming in and creating order out of chaos, streamlining procedures rather than just free balling it every damn day, because I was a damn good personal assistant. There were brilliant people all over the world who could produce goods the people wanted or provide services no one else could, but who couldn’t work out how to load the printer cartridge into the printer. Or where to order new coffee pods from. Or what to use when they realised what kind of environmental impact those bloody things had. Dacian?
I’d followed them in the business rags and watched stories about them when they came on the ABC, because to me, they’d felt like a beacon of hope. We were being flooded by dire predictions of animal population collapses and drastic shifts in climate, and it made me fearful and lose hope for our future. Then they came in with devastatingly simple solutions that seemed to actually help. They wouldn’t solve the carbon crisis on their own, but at least they were having an impact. That was what had me getting out of bed, putting on my clothes, and coming over here.
I was starting to put two and two together.
Dacian was facing a hostile board of investors who didn’t believe what I did about the company, or at least some of them didn’t, and that was a problem. They’d let these people into their company in exchange for investor dollars, and now they had to keep them sweet or face potential reprisals. A Harvard Business School study had exposed the fact that within four years, only forty percent of founder CEOs were still running their company, which was a statistic I started with. Each one of the men lost some of the heat in their eyes, and it was replaced by something just as hungry, if not for me.
“Who employed Crystal?” I asked, knowing this was unprofessional to ask but doing it anyway.