Page 1 of Sold Rejected Mate
Chapter 1 - Valerie
There’s something fitting about my boss finding me in the walk-in, arms around my knees, crying quietly as I try to get the magic under control.
“Wetalkedabout this,” he says, trying to be gentle even as his voice is growling. “You can’t just disappear in the middle of dinner service!”
I could tell him that it’s not my fault. I could tell him that I didn’t ask to be born like this. I could even tell him that me sitting in the walk-in, crying into my knees, would be his preference, given the alternative.
Although I don’t knowexactlywhat the alternative would be.
When the magic gets like this, simmering just under my skin, itching away at the bottom of my throat and around my brain, it feels like the final stop is some sort of explosion. Like it might just come bursting out of me, flying in all directions, taking out anyone else in its path.
“We looked the other way on the hair thing,” he says, shaking his head, his jowls shaking right along with them. “But we just can’t have a waitress who constantly disappears on us. Do you get that?”
I hold my head as I walk with him to the office. If he’s already dead set on firing me, I don’t see a reason to argue with him. Better to just collect my check, get out of here, and start looking for a new place to work tomorrow.
As I stand in the office and wait for him to print out forms for me to sign, the magic only gets worse, rising up to the surface, threatening to melt the skin right off my body like somesort of plastic. My stomach roils at the thought, at the scratchy, intrusive feeling all around me.
I’m surprised he can’t see it around me, like an aura.
Of course, I’ve told nobody here about the magic. It’s not like I’d win any brownie points for pain related to something they all hate, anyway. Coming clean about thereasonI always hide in the walk-in would only give them one more thing to despise about me.
“Again, I’m really sorry, Valerie,” he says, cleanly ripping the check and handing it to me like the consolation prize it is. “But I just don’t think this is going to work anymore.”
I want to say,I heard you the first time.
But if I open my mouth, I’m going to vomit all over his office. So I say nothing, just walk out of his office and through the restaurant, stopping behind the host stand to grab my things—water bottle, keys, wallet.
“Ayy.”
When I hear his voice, a slimy feeling slides up my back, but I ignore it. Just an asshole with frosted tips who, one, insists that they’re coming back; two, thinks that having interesting hair makes us friends; and three, hasn’t stopped hitting on me since the moment I walked through the doors, despite my repeated attempts to tell him I’mnotinterested.
I can’t find it in myself to be interested in anyone, let alonehim.
Turning, I give him a curt nod and head for the door, the pain in my head like its own thing. It’s pulsing, almost like the blood in my body is too thick, and my head is taking the brunt of the feeling.
“Rie,” the guy says, holding his hands up as he steps in front of me, that obnoxious body spray filling my lungs and only making the headache worse.
“Don’t call me that,” I grit out through the pain. It’s just another thing I’ve told him a million times. The last thing I want is to be reminded, over and over, of the girl I used to be.
“Right, right,” he says, eyes darting between my face and the stuff in my hands, the slightly crumpled final check. “Shi-it, he finally sacked you?”
“Mm-hmm.” He doesn’t realize how close he’s coming to having my vomit sprayed on him.
“Well,” he smiles, flashing his little silver canine at me. “Since we’re no longer co-workers, you want to hang out tonight?”
I close my eyes, rubbing at my temple. Of course, the excuse I give him is that I don’t date co-workers. I should have just been honest—just told him that I may have held more than nine different jobs last year and might be barely scraping by, juggling my debts like a professional athlete—but I still have some fucking self-respect.
“No thanks,” I manage, even following it up with a tight smile as I try to step around him.
“Come on,” he says, side-stepping in front of me. “Give me a chance, Rie.”
Bile rises in my throat. “I saidno, asshole.”
The moment the words are out of my mouth, the moment I dare to treat him the way he’s been treating me for months, the smile drops right off his face. He looks me up and down like I’m yesterday’s meat.
“Fine,” he spits. “Not like I wanted to fuck a stray, anyway.”
To any of the passing humans, his statement might just sound a little off, a little confusing. Maybe insulting, but only insofar as him cursing.
