Page 12 of Dubious Match
“No,” I say, not at all impressed with them.
“What about sponsors?” Malcolm asks, steeling his spine. He looks like the CEO that everyone knows when they think about Naughty Tote. “Do you have anyone donating toward the gift bags for this event?”
Honestly, this is something on my list of things to do this week.
“No to sponsors, the second is on my to do list,” I say coolly. “I don’t really know why you’re poking holes and asking questions about an event you consider silly.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” Remy grunts. “You fucking get under my skin, Omega.”
Ha, yeah I just bet I do. Asshole.
“Let’s try this again,” Malcolm interjects. “The Naughty Tote would like to take responsibility for your gift bags as a gesture of good faith. We really don’t want to leave you with the impression that what you’re doing isn’t important. I had no idea this event was happening until the invitation. How many people are you expecting?”
“I’m expecting one hundred single omegas and a hundred packs based on my capacity for the venue,” I sigh.
At his surprise, I shrug. I overinvited, knowing that I would still be filling spots up to a week before the event. The people I invite and expect to come are two different things. It’s just the way that events go.
“It has to be an even playing field. Not everyone will pair off, and that’s expected. However, when there are more of one than the other, it can lead to desperation or aggression due to scarcity. I’ve seen it happen with other events that I haven’t been in charge of and it’s not pretty.”
“Do you seriously think you’ll have that much interest?” Remy asks.
The question sounds callous, but they have no idea how I work.
“This event is already seventy percent full,” I say. “I have a large pool of clients that I reached out to first, the invitations were simply the last step to filling this event to capacity.”
“You know what you’re doing,” Brice murmurs, and I might think about preening under any other circumstance. His intense blue eyes remind me of gorgeous, clear ocean water where you can see the bottom for miles.
If they hadn’t insulted me and they weren’t my scent matches, I might be more likely to be nice. My job involves networking with others, and these alphas aren’t half bad on the eyes.
They just need to get the fuck away from mine.
“Again with the insults,” I mutter, my fingers moving over my cleavage. My knife is there and the reminder is helping me to ground myself.
I’m capable of surviving anything I need to…
“What do you mean she’s ‘good’ at this?” Lars scoffs. “She’s been doing this for ten fucking years. You honestly should leave before she stabs you. Hollis, drop your hand.”
Sighing, I pull my mind away from thoughts of killing them all.
“I’m very good at what I do,” I mutter. I don’t need to brag in order to get my point across. “I don’t really need anything from you all. Now that I’m seeing you in person, you’re not a good fit for my event anyway.”
“Are we doomed to this dance, Hollis?” Brice asks, his lips curled into a charming smile. “We’ll cover the gift bags for the entire event, and also donate ten thousand dollars as a sponsor. All we ask is that you talk about us favorably during your opening speech.”
Blinking, I shake my head. “Why would you do that? A sponsorship that large would carry signage throughout the event, mention on the event branding and website, and?—”
“If we didn’t come in like a pack of elephants instead of business owners, then I would be inclined to agree,” Brice says. “However, we fucked up, which means the benefits are going to heavily favor you instead of us.”
“That’s very generous of you,” I say, thinking about how that would allow us some flexibility in the budget for advertising as well.
“It’s not at all,” he denies. “Aisling is the sweetest person on the planet, and I have a feeling she may be calling me to give me a piece of her mind if she finds out about this.”
Smirking, I let him stew. It’s obvious that Brice works on the analytics aspect and public relations for the company. I doubt Aisling would lose her shit over this, she’s more likely to ply me with alcohol in an effort to tell her why I’m kicking my scent matches out.
That is…if I tell her about any of this. I have many facets about me, but most people only know one because that’s what I show my passion about. Did I mention that I’m a Capricorn?
“I just bet she would,” I say secretly instead. “If that’ll be all, gentlemen?”
“No, that’s not all,” Remy says, taking a step forward into my space from where I sit. “Since we’re going to be working together, I do have some concerns.”
