Page 1 of Perfectly Yours

Chapter one

ELLIE

My eyes trail the appetizers spread across the counter in a kitchen worth three times my salary. At least, it feels like it with the porcelain surfaces, marbled tile, and floor-to-ceiling glass windows along the back of this room. Everything is smothered in black and gold, sparkles embedded into the marble that gives this place an air of class that is wildly out of my reach. Even the chandeliers illuminating the open layout tell me that one wrong move and I’ll end up damaging something worth more than my existence.

I huff out a breath as I twist around and face the oddly placed kitchen mirror to double-check my outfit for the night, a deep red wrap dress covering my body. Well, it’s a few fabrics expertly placed around my chest and lower half, showing off my best assets. Instinctively, I go to juggle my tits, chuckling as the piercings through my nipples press against the satin. They’re quite the hit with the men I entertain and having someone’s lips wrapped around them is heaven.

My gaze continues to peruse my scantily clad form, enjoying the colorful ink that winds around my arms and disappears beneath the fabric of my dress. A lot of bad decisions and wanting to memorialize moments in time have led to my look. I love it and it gives me an edge over the other girls when people want someone with a little more… edge. I twist just enough to check that the ties are done up correctly in the back. Long brown curls slap around my shoulders, yet another aspect of my appearance that somehow draws in the sleazeballs. So long as they tip well at the end of the night, I don’t have many limits.

Well, I really only have one.

No sex.

I’m worth more than a cheap night with an Alpha that will discard me in the morning so he can go find an Omega to mate and wed. Well, at least I tell myself that.

One last look in the mirror has me shimmying the top of my dress up just slightly to cover up a nasty scar on my side from a night of too much whiskey and not enough sense. I blow a kiss to the woman looking back at me, smiling at the image I’ve curated.

You’re just a Beta.

I wave off the nasty internal thought. I don’t need that tonight, not when the club I work at—Euphoria—has been hired by some high-end rollers to celebrate a movie release. A few of the other Betas I work with are here, all intent on entertaining men who earn more in a day than we do in months.

Parties aren’t my favorite—playing up to rich Alphas and their Omegas as they parade their riches in our faces. Granted, many of my Beta friends use these nights as a way to unofficially apply for a pack. I’m just working for a paycheck to pay for school and I really enjoy shaking my ass. I mean, it’s a really good one. The hours I spend on the pole have given me a toned physique that I’m rather proud of, even if I don’t like entertaining the rich up close and personal. I’m tempted to twist around and catch my reflection in the mirror again. It’s a good thing I’m not that vain.

You shouldn’t be. You’re just a fucking Beta.

My jaw tightens as my subconscious sticks me back in my place. My future revolves around finding a good job and another Beta who will take what’s left of my sanity. And half of it has already disappeared somewhere into the abyss at this point.

The hustle and bustle of setting up the party grows but I’m resigned to my little corner in the kitchen, going so far as to hop up on the counter, legs dangling as servers begin flitting in and out of the area to start serving food. Entourages of black and white clothing flash across my vision and I lean back, watching in silence.

I manage to steal a mini croquette from a nearby plate and stuff it in my mouth, mulling over how I’m going to wade through the sea of money. Each of the girls working tonight are looking at one pretty paycheck if we stay the entire time. Upwards of $500 based on divvying up the pool that the attendees have added to.

Rich flavors mixed in with the potato explode in my mouth and I bite back a moan as I reach for a second one. Someone slaps my hand and I jerk back, frowning at my older sister, Carleen, who’s currently staring at me, a disappointed expression on her face.

My best friend and confidant in a world where I can’t trust anyone else is also the biggest pain in my ass. Ever since we moved away from home, each of us choosing wildly different ways to fund college, Carleen has kept me on the straight and narrow. For the most part.

Most people in passing think we’re twins even if she’s three years older, a little taller, and her hair has the curls I lust after. She always helps cater these parties, not to mention that she’s a damn good cook with her own business to boot.

“What are you doing in here? Shouldn’t you be giggling with the other girls?”

I turn up my nose, my disgust overshadowed by the curve of my lips. Carleen knows how much I hate that aspect of my job. Giggling in the dressing room is the last thing I want to do, especially when all of their conversations revolve around finding a pack. They talk like a pack is going to find them and court them like they would an Omega.

If Betas could only be so lucky.

“They’re doing enough giggling for themselves. I think they got it.” I snark, reaching for a croquette again. Carleen moves the plate out of reach, glaring at me. “Sue me for coming in here to grab some of the goodies.” My tongue darts out to coat my lips and grab any last lingering spice.

Her hands settle on her hips as her head tilts, studying me and seeing right through the lie. “Uh-huh, you’ve been in here since you got here half an hour ago. What’s up? Nervous?” Carleen is always so attentive and so caring that sometimes I forget she’s an Alpha. She wouldn’t understand the need to perform, to be perfect. Alphas are allowed to stumble, get angry, and curse the world for their own fuckups.

Carleen never does but it’s the principle of the thing.

“Ellie, stop thinking so hard. You’ll be great.”

“I’m a born performer, sis. I know I will. I’m not nervous. I just don’t like that they throw around money so easily when I have to work so hard for it.” I gesture to the entire kitchen. This penthouse located on the top floor of a hotel I could only dream of actually staying at is beautiful. It’s also annoying how rich everything feels in here.

My sister chuckles, patting my knee before grabbing the plate of croquettes. “Get out there. Be social. Maybe you’ll find a new pack.”

“I don’t need one. I have you,” I joke. We have very different goals in life. Mine is to settle down with a nice Beta if I’m lucky. Carleen is happy in her own space, alone. In a world that holds Alphas on a pedestal the moment they find an Omega, she gave them the middle finger. I wish I could do the same. “Just so you know, I’m not here for a pack, Leenie.” A laugh tumbles from my lips at the way her face scrunches up at the terrible nickname I gave her when we were kids. I slide off the counter and pat her shoulder, reassuring her that it’s just a joke. Mostly.

“I know you aren’t but it can’t hurt to keep your eyes open.”

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