Page 6 of The Knotty Omega
I only realize when my eyes roll to the back of my head and I stifle a moan that that’sexactlywhat I’m doing.
What thehellis wrong with me?
“Hey there, Cady, whatcha ya working on?” The sound of Laura’s voice has me stuffing the pocket square deep into my cleavage. A sense of rightness at the action almost coaxes a rusty purr out of my cold, dead heart.
“Laura,” I plaster on a fake smile as I turn to face her. “Is there something I can help you with?” Laura’s brown hair is thrown in a tight bun today, making her cheekbones seem even more severe than normal. Her cat eye glasses sit perched on her nose, her shirt buttoned all the way up to her neck.
“Oh, just looking for someadvice,” she says with a sly smile.
Shit, not this again.
As Grady’s assistant, Laura is the only other one privy to my identity as the Knotty Omega, and somehow thinks that makes us all buddy-buddy. Like I told her in some strange vow of friendship rather than her being in the meeting where Grady and I came to an agreement on my terms for the position.
“Afraid I can’t help you there.” I grit my teeth through my smile. “This brain is completely void of any helpful thoughts for anyone. I’ll stick to my nesting item articles.”
Without invitation, Laura comes behind me and peers at my computer, lowering her glasses as her eyes scan the screen. “Does your alpha let you buy all these foryournest?” As if it’s not enough that Laura acts as if I need an alphas permission to spend my own money, she asks about the one thing you don’t ask omegas about.
Their nest.
Giving recommendations and advice? Totally socially acceptable.
Askingan omega for details about her most cherished and sacred space? Where she beds her alphas and has her heats where days-long sex marathons take place? Not fucking cool.
Not that any of those things are applicable to me, or that I even have a nest, but she doesn’t know that. If I had alphas, I would not be legally liable for ripping her throat out right now.
Maybe I should do it anyway.
No! Bad Cady. No homicidal thoughts at work.
“Reggie has no say in how I spend my own money,” I grit out, fake smile still plastered on. Again walking that thin line between revealing the truth and making statements ambiguous enough that if this ever comes out, I can truthfully say I never actually lied about anything.
“You don’t have a joint bank account?” Laura raises a brow, finally backing away. “Is your alpha okay with you working so much? It’s already five-thirty.”
I prickle at the question, wondering why I grace these needling questions with a response.
Oh, right, because despite Laura being a hemorrhoid in my ass, she holds one of my most sacred secrets in her hands.
Iwantto tell her that it doesn’t matter if he’s okay with it, this is my life and I’ll work however long I damn please. But then I remember said alpha is my cat, not an actual threat to my independence, and tap into my Knotty Omega persona for an acceptable answer. “As long as I come home at the end of the day and serve him dinner, he’ll be fine.”
Laura’s lips thin as she regards me, then shrugs. “What does he even look like?”
Her question takes me aback. Why the hell is she asking me that? If I didn’t know Laura is a nosy-ass, uptight, lying bitch, I might think she suspects something.
“Why?”
She nearly pouts. “Everyone else has pictures of them with their bondmates decorating their cubicles, but yours is…” She waves a hand towards my desk.
I grit my teeth. “Reggie has black hair. I don’t have pictures because I don’t need to be distracted from my work.”
Her brow raises. “That good looking, huh?”
“Something like that.”
She looks me over again, before deciding she’s bored with the conversation and shrugs. “Okay. I’m heading out. Yusef is taking me out on his yacht tonight.”
My eyes almost roll into the back of my head. Sure he is.
“Oh, and Cady?” She says, throwing me a look over her shoulder. “Don’t wear that scent again. As yummy as the bourbon and caramel smells, you have to remember that all colognes and perfumes are banned for everyone.” Her eyes convey the silenteven omegas.
