Page 12 of The Gift
“Henley Bailey.” His eyebrows tip up in amusement.
“Yeah, we’re like each other.”
And then his brows tip even higher in confusion. “Huh?”
Going with the adage of distracting people by shining brighter, I laugh and move closer to him, my hand out waiting for a handshake. It’s an aggressive move, but supposedly the first seven seconds when meeting someone are important foundations for making an impact, and I have a few more to make my impression.
“When did you guys arrive?” I ask, overly enthusiastically. My voice is so loud it rattles my own brain.
“Not that long ago. Nice to meet you too, Bailey.” He shakes my hand. His fingers are long, his hand engulfs mine and his hold is damn near sublime. That blend of strength and confidence is a hard balance, but he has it nailed. Damn him.
“Sorry for running late,” I offer after getting a little caught up in the way his hand looks in mine. I hide it by moving even closer, grabbing the script for him to read over. “This is what I’ve been working on. Sorry again.”
“No, you’re not running late at all.”
“Thank goodness. So, you’re doing this? I mean the sound grab? It’s great insight. Having an alpha’s influence is going to be what it was lacking, actually.”
“Does it bother you if I do it instead of you?” he asks, and the photos of his eyes are so wrong it’s ridiculous. In a world full of colour, his eyes would be their own.
After my own interactions with alphas here and there over the years, restricted and timed to match certain cycles in my life, I have discovered that while they exude unparalleled strength and power, a secondary characteristic of theirs was the way they almost turned interactions around so that every interaction is agreed. Putting the perception of power back on the other person, but they never really relinquished it. Was I being highly cynical by lumping every alpha together, yes, yes I am. Am I worried about that? Not one bit.
This is all about faking it until you make it. And by making it, I mean surviving the next few weeks with them.
I swing an even bigger smile his way, “Not at all. You guys will need to pull your weight around here, may as well get our money’s worth.” I laugh, sticking my tongue between my teeth. The realisation that I’m flirting shocks the crap out of me, making my mouth twist.
He laughs. And it changes every single thing about him. And a deep part of me responds instinctively in an instant.
I guess that is the first slap that reality gives me in this subterfuge.
But then in the next breath, I surprise myself by not dropping to my knees and confessing everything in complete undeniable submission. Because the reality is, there is a large part of me that wants to do that; his words, his touch, his protection, his attention would stop a bone deep hurt inside me.
I’ve lived a different life, where I desperately sought out praise as an extension of my own happiness. I’ve also managed so far to lock away that part of me in order to survive, to prove to every person who’s ever wronged me that I am more than what society painted us as.
And I owe it to every other omega who was locked in those cages alongside me, that had to endure what no person alive should, to keep being strong.
Because the last time we trusted an alpha, well, I’m doing a documentary on the tragedy of it.
Reno
Sweet feminine laughter floats through the open door, and it hooks me, dragging me out of my seat before I consider my actions. Thoughts of manners, correctness, even the usual peace being with my pack provides does absolutely shit in stopping me. Part of my brain shorts out. And the part that hasn’t, screams ‘move your ass!’
The leather soles of my loafers skid out, and I knew Ashton’s suggestion that we all dress up formally was wrong, and nearly sliding into a chair proved my point. Though I’d wear clam-shell bikinis if it meant I had half a second to change our first, well, second interaction.
While I wouldn’t change one single thing about that night, I’m about to change things now. I kind of like her laughter, and don’t want to be the reason it stops, though that’s probably on the cards.
I was being entirely honest with Ashton when I said I fucked up. I did. But fuck me, I didn’t regret that night with her or the fall out that’s sure to come as soon as she walks through the door. Though it’s bound to set us down a path. I really don’t want it to be a collision course.
My fucking shoes slip again, making me fly out the door, half crashing into the wall like there’s a fire behind me, and in some respects, there is. I refuse to let her walk into the room that is now full of people she works with, members of my pack she hasn’t met, as well as a camera crew, before I introduce myself. I owe it to her, along with an apology. A dozen roses wouldn’t go astray either.
She doesn’t even miss a step.
I knew Bailey Henderson was a damn knockout. I’d followed her career. In all honesty, I’d fawned over her promotional social pages—and every smile, every flip of her hair showed her as a successful and stunningly beautiful self-made woman. She’s like my pot of honey, makes me weak at the knees. It’s that one trait that I find incredibly attractive. She really is the whole package, and that’s not even mentioning an undeniable tug that has me acting out of sorts.
She pulls up next to me, and a guy who was chatting animatedly with her and Henley sweeps past all of us walking into the room, leaving me with them. Henley’s mouth falls open in shock, his head tips to one side, and he all but glares at me for answers.
“Hey,” she says with a grace and ease that makes me wonder if she comes from a line of alphas. It’s weird. Her character and personality, I mean. Confidence and that natural ability to interact at a base level, with the intent of soothing people’s discomfort is a trait typically associated with alphas, or strong betas. But she’s neither of those.
“Bailey, you look good,” I answer with a smile despite my voice sounding like sandpaper. Simply being in her presence makes me goofy. There’s another part of her that makes me want to wrap my arms around her, whisk her to look at stars or something.
