Page 42 of Pack End Game

I'm not quite there yet.

Spencer and I are nearly to the locker room entrance when a vaguely familiar figure pops out of seemingly nowhere.

"Good morning, gentleman."

I feel bad that it takes me a second to place Trevor, the soft-spoken beta we hired to help us find an omega for a pack. We always knew we wanted a true scent match, and Trevor's entire job was essentially to matchmake us with every feasible match in a hundred-mile radius.

Luckily, Mia found us all on her own because Trevor predominantly used online sites to find us dates. Mia told us yesterday she preferred finding dates in real life and wasn't active on dating sites.

Trevor wouldn't have found her.

So fate made sure that she found us.

Trevor looks between Spencer and me. "I checked out the realtor your omega suggested."

My shoulders loosen considerably. One less thing to worry about. "And?"

"He has an excellent reputation. No major complaints online, good client reviews, and he's known for being patient with picky buyers." Trevor says the last part carefully, unsure how blatantly to point out that our omega certainly has opinions.

Lots of opinions.

I already adore that about her.

She's both sweet and sassy. Like a good sour candy. My favorite.

"Very good," Spencer says in a clipped tone he uses when he wants to keep things moving. We've already dragged our feet enough; we'll make ourselves late for practice if we don't get a move on.

Trevor nods respectfully. Then he grimaces before clearing his throat and schooling his expression. "Right. Well. Since you've now found your omega, Mia..." He trails off and looks at us expectantly. "I was wondering what happens next. For me, that is."

Spencer and I trade a distressed look as we realize what Trevor's asking. He wants to know what comes next for him in terms of his job.

Trevor is a really nice guy. We vetted him extensively before hiring him, wanting to ensure our privacy during the process of trying to find an omega. We know all about his background as a widowed single father. He has a young daughter, never-ending student loan debt, and a newish mortgage.

I guess our endless rejections of the women he introduced us to made him feel secure in his job for quite a while. Firing him would upend that security, and I know neither of us wants to be responsible for that.

We can't fire him.

Absolutely cannot.

"You'll stay on as our assistant, of course," Spencer blurts out.

Trevor blinks. "Oh. That's great." Then, after a beat, "What exactly does that look like moving forward?"

Spencer, who I know for a fact has no thought about this at all beyond blurting out the words of course, says, "You'll do... assistant tasks. Just regular assistant stuff. That sort of thing."

I look at the ceiling. Uncomfortable and also trying not to laugh.

"That makes sense," Trevor says slowly, even though it doesn't make any sense at all. I'm sure he realizes he shouldn't question things too deeply for fear of Spencer changing his mind.

"In fact," Spencer can't seem to help himself. "We'd like to offer you a raise."

"You would?" he asks at the same time I say, "We would?"

Spencer nods, seemingly becoming more confident by the second. "Yes. We'll increase your pay in exchange for adding one specific task to your to-do list."

"Sure," Trevor agrees immediately. "What is it?"

"I'd like you to sneak Freddie's mascot suit out to be dry-cleaned. That thing hasn't been properly cleaned in too long because he doesn't like to let the suit out of his sight." Spencer rubs at his temple as if he's already got a headache developing just picturing how Freddie will react if he finds out about this.