Page 13 of No Strings Attached
Finally getting the tie in place, I notice a soft mark on my neck, just beside my scent gland, barely visible under the collar. Olivia must have left it this afternoon. My fingers brush across it as a shiver runs through me, my body warming at the memory. Their scents still linger, a reminder of how they let me take control. It was perfect, a moment where I wasn’t hiding, wasn’t pretending. The mark feels like a claim, a reminder of something real, something I’m terrified to want.
I step out into my bedroom to the sound of a soft knock, confused when I see Snow staring into my bedroom. The little squirrel I’ve all but adopted only ever really comes around for snacks and usually only in the morning. Frowning, I slide open the window and place a few nuts on the ledge. “Hey girl, what are you doing here?”
Of course, she doesn’t respond but the little chirps and sudden twitches make it seem like she’s listening. She happily grabs one of the nuts and starts chipping away at it. I snort at her one-track mind as the slight breeze runs through her snow white fur.
“I’ll leave you a few extra but don’t eat them all at once, okay? I’ve got this bullshit gala to go to—”
Snow lets out a squeak and glares at me before continuing to chew.
“Yes, I know it’s bullshit but I need money to live and unfortunately, this contract is all I have. I’ll figure a way out of it.”
Snow just grabs another nut and stuffs it completely into her mouth.
My gaze travels out into the darkness of the forest outside my window, the peacefulness of this spot is everything I needed it to be. However, I’m not entirely sure it’s what I need or even want now. My shoulders sag as that faint breeze whistles through the trees, lightening bugs blinking on and off as they fly by.
A soft presence has me looking back to Snow, one of her pink feet resting on my finger. She’s looking at me like she understands, like she wishes she could do more. And Iknowthat’s not what this is but it almost feels like Mother Nature herself sent this little squirrel to give me hope.
I’ve been fretting about this gala since I got home from the most perfect afternoon without focusing on the best part—Jamie and Olivia will be there. And if this afternoon wasn’t a fluke, then this could be the start ofsomething.After all, Olivia all but told me that they want me, that it would be my choice on whether or not to reach out.
“I’m going to do it, Snow. Fuck, I want this so bad and even if it doesn’t work… at least I had it for a little while.”
Snow squeaks again before grabbing two more of the nuts and scurrying off. I never know where she goes, just that her white form disappears into the night and reappears at some point the next day begging for nuts. I’ve held her once or twice but we’re both most comfortable just existing in each other’s space.
A honk blares outside, ruining the moment. Right, of course,the car. I sigh and grab my phone and wallet before locking the cabin door behind me. The night air threatens to tussle my hair out of its manicured style and as much as I should flatten it back down, I don’t want to. I have no idea why I have to put on airs tonight when everyone knows what I do for a living.
A sleek black limo stands a few feet from my house, a type of luxury Tristan would never send. He either wants somethingfrom me or came into a big sum of money. Either way, the car is a trap into yet more demands I won’t want to fill.
I throw open the door, ready to slide in and get this over with, but I freeze when I realize who’s inside.Warren Hart. The man’s dressed in a pitch black suit that has to cost more than my yearly salary, one leg crossed over the other as he throws me a smug smile. His hair is slicked back, much more professionally than me, every single crease in his suit and tie perfectly ironed out.
Why the hell is he here?
I should have known that my fate would be twisted with this man’s the moment I caught him watching me during the commercial earlier today.
He pats the seat next to him. “Let’s not dilly dally, Mr. Woods.”
My jaw tightens at the smoothness of his voice. He definitely wants something. I slide in, anyway, telling myself that this is just another business deal and a ride to the gala. Tristan has done worse things when trying to grab a deal and I’ve had the misfortune of trying to sell the dream of Hallis Films. But I’ve never been in a situation where the client is someone like Warren Hart, someone so out of Tristan’s league that it’s laughable.
Still, I don’t have to be rude.
I press myself as far as possible from Warren and close the door behind me. The car takes off as I stare at the man, wondering what happens next. For several seconds, there’s just silence as he shuffles around in the little fridge beside him, the dimly lit car not providing me much perspective.
And then, Warren holds out a glass of champagne. “Drink?” he asks, his tone a little too casual for whatever this is.
I shake my head, “No, thanks.”
He leans closer, his scent sharper than most Alphas I’ve met, like expensive cologne masking something sour. “You don’t needto have your guard up so high,” he muses, a wide smile slipping onto his lips. “This is just a social call.”
I don’t respond because I don’t know what to say. Social call, my ass. Tristan’s got something planned, and Warren’s part of it. Hart pushes the glass into my hands, his fingers brushing mine, and I flinch. It feels like I’ve been burned, my Omega instincts telling me that I’ve let another Alpha touch me, an Alpha who isn’t mine.
“Don’t disrespect me,” he growls. “Your new boss just offered you a drink.”
I reluctantly sip at the champagne before his words register. “I work for Tristan.”
Warren laughs, a deep, grating sound that puts me on edge as he leans back in his seat. “If you thought I would hire someone else’s employee, like Nander did, you’re wrong. Tristan now works for me. There might be a few things that still need to change, like the company name but by default, that now means you work for me as well. Did he not tell you?”
No, he fucking didn’t.
I chew on my bottom lip, swallowing my distaste with the situation. If I hadn’t just slathered another helping of scent blocker over my gland after my shower, I would be giving this man a window into exactly what I was feeling. At least, I can keep that much to myself.
