Page 128 of The Gift
Followed by a single black love heart.
I know it’s pointless but I hit the call button, hoping to hear her, but she’s already gone. The pre-recorded, computer-generated message I hear advises clients to log onto her agency website for updates while Lennon is on a talent search.
When she’s good and ready, she’ll call me, I know she will.
“I’m okay,” I say, my hand shaking badly as I pass my phone to Henley before he wraps me in a tight hug without asking for an explanation. My trembling is based on fear. But also hope.
Because if I found my pack, it fills me with endless hope that Lennon will too.
Bailey
Ihate fiddling, but it seems like it’s all I do.
Twenty-eight days since I came out. Twenty-eight days since Lennon disappeared. Twenty-eight days since a new nervous energy started riding my ass, making me fiddle.
The sudden warmth in the room adds to the feeling the world is slowly shrinking. I wrap my fingers around my necklace and close my eyes, trying to settle down. I work through all the breathing exercises trying to get the noise to drop instead of pick up. But it’s hopeless, everything feels like it’s getting more amplified, more frantic, more out of control.
“Can you put the fan on please?” I ask, for the third time.
Without opening my eyes, I can feel the roll of hers, and she doesn’t bother even trying to cover her caustic sigh. I start reciting French in my head to stop myself snapping back at her. If Lennon were around, I’d be bitching to her before asking her if I’m getting too old for this.
“As soon as I finish applying the gloss you can move over to hair. Stop talking and perhaps it will happen sooner.”
And that’s the point I push her hand away and turn my face. All my calming exercises gone out the window.
“I’m sorry, what? I have sat here and felt your shitty moody for the last thirty minutes while you’ve glared at me like I kicked your cat. And for the record…”
Koda drops his hands on my shoulder and the words quieten, not disappear entirely. Although not another word falls past my lips, because someone else starts up louder.
“Grab your kit, Gretch. Last warning was yesterday, and today you are done,” Ruddy comes over, mouthing off without cracking a smile. He’s pissed, and I’m relieved.
“All that blabbering about how you’re not being the issue is once again proven wrong. And girl, I was being kind with all the chances I have previously given you. Go take a walk on the beach and figure out if this is the career you want, because you’re really not acting like it is. The woman sitting in front of you is my client, and you work for me. She might be the toilet scrubber at the dirty slags club you were at last night for all I care, but when her derriere is in that seat, she’s the Queen of the World. Oh, and hello,” he gasps dramatically, clutching at his chest before pointing at me, “it is the Queen of Fudging Prime Time TV, for reals! Show some self-respect and leave without saying another goddamn word out of your badly done lips.”
Ruddy comes in and makes it impossible for Gretch to do anything but get out of his work zone. This flamboyant alpha is going all protective, making a big song and dance and doesn’t even wait for her to leave before lathering my face in thick, gooey cleanser. Which is such a diss in their industry.
“She had you looking like you were going down to sing and dance on the stage at Leg’s Eleven. Fudge, Bailey, so sorry, darling. Give me five and I’ll have your beautiful face looking even more beautiful.”
Without waiting, he digs in his apron, and pulls out wipes.
“Someone bring me a fan. It’s like I’m working in the middle of the Sahara down here!”
I sink back into the chair and the scent of warm fires and denim wraps around me, comforting me better than a shot of whisky would.
“Are you alright, Bails?” His voice is another soothing layer and I watch his reflection in the mirror as leans in to kiss me on the top of my shoulder before taking a step back.
Not right back against the wall where he was, I know he can feel my rising anxiety, so he stays close enough. Someone deposits a fan for Ruddy, also leaving a stool for my guy. Having one of them with me all the time is so weird but so right too. I’ve never felt safer, happier, and more confident in myself.
“Seriously, how are you even here?” Ruddy starts talking as he cleans my face. “I’ve seen you everywhere. And what you are doing, girl, I am so proud of you. God, tell me, is it true that an omega just stood up in the audience after your segment on GM Today and asked for help? And your pack found four more? See, that right there is why you are busting ass doing show after show. You are really doing amazing getting your story out there. So brave.” He takes a huge breath, spraying cooling mist on my face. “I have to say, Bailey, how many times have I done your makeup and never did you even pop up on my omega radar. If you did, I probably would have bitten you so I could do your makeup until I die, your skin is insane.”
Ruddy talks a mile a minute, and within eight he takes a step back and gives himself a round of applause. Leaving me with an air kiss and an invitation to drinks next time I’m free.
“Koda, have you got any water?”
“You still not feeling well, Bails?”
“I’m hot.”
“Fuck you are.” He smirks, getting all dirty like, spinning me on my chair to face him, his hand running along the back of my neck. “You are hot.”
