Page 29 of Follow the Rhythm
“You were at the secret show, too?” I asked and immediately regretted it. Jess’s face hardened even more.
“Yes,” she said curtly, her face glowing red again. “Grace is my friend’s sister.”
“So this is all just some kind of cosmic intervention, bringing you back into my life?” I asked, still a bit incredulous.
“Noteverythingrevolves around you. It’s just a weird coincidence.”
I wasn’t entirely convinced, but I left it for the moment. If she had some other motive for working on the tour, I would find out sooner or later. “It is good to see you, darling, even under dubious circumstances.”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped. “Are we done here? I have work to do.”
“I’d like to clear the air. I clearly hurt your feelings, but that was so long ago. We had a laugh back then, didn’t we?”
Jess finally looked at me, disdain written clearly across her face. “Any ‘hurt feelings’ I had about you are long gone.”
“Really? You have no feelings for me at all? That rings a bit untrue, given where we are right now.” I tapped on the conference table for emphasis. I dropped my hand, and the smirk. “But I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about you over the years. And I am sorry.”
While Jess struggled to find a retort, a soft hint of a scent floated towards me. I remembered Jess’s scent vividly: citrus that leaned more tart than sweet. But this scent was deeper, richer. Juicy, fresh lime and an undercurrent of sharp ginger that lit up the synapses in my brain. It was the scent of an unbonded Omega. I inhaled deeply, then leapt to my feet and took two steps back.
“Jesus, you’re an Omega?” I asked stupidly. “Since when?”
She looked furious. “Since right around when my aunt died, actually, so it was a really fun time for me. Again, are we done here?”
My heart sank, and guilt stabbed me in the gut, no doubt as Jess intended. She always knew where to strike hardest.
“I’m so sorry-” I began, but Jess stood, cutting me off with a huff.
“I can be professional without letting our history or whatever get in the way. Can you?” She left without waiting for an answer, slamming the conference room door open, and leaving a trail of that intoxicating scent behind.
I sank back into a chair, my mind reeling. Jess, an Omega? And unbonded? I purposefully didn’t know much about Omegas since I avoided the idea of bonding like the plague, but didn’t she need protection? The deepest, basest part of my Alpha brain was assuring me I was the best one for the job, but I easily silenced that voice.
No matter what my instincts may have been telling me, Jess deserved far better than anything I had to offer.
Chapter 9 - Jess
Working with Ursula was exhilarating. I had never collaborated with another designer, or even considered this kind of work as a possibility. So diving in headfirst with someone of her talent was like trying to learn the piano by playing a duet with Mozart, but I wasn’t completely failing. Ursula had more patience than I expected for my dumb questions about technical things, and she was complimentary of my efforts.
But it wasn’t easy. Ursula worked from the label’s creative space, a suite of rooms designed for video production, editing and mixing, wardrobe and makeup fittings, and a dedicated studio for her to use for upcoming tours and performances. We were usually the only ones using the space, so I didn’t have to worry too much about unwanted attention, or running into any of the Alphas I was currently avoiding.
“These label morons give me the best of everything for free. I don’t pay rent or overhead for equipment. They want to keep me happy so I don’t go somewhere else,” Ursula said when I asked why she didn’t have her own studio.
This meant a long daily commute from my apartment across town and cutting my days earlier than I wanted so I couldstill get the train back during normal commuting hours. Even with descenter, going home alone late at night wasn’t an option for me, as much as it pissed me off to admit it. Ursula was understanding, if not completely sympathetic.
But on that first Friday, I lost track of time. We’d gotten a rough cut of the first full-length video of my animated illustrations, and I was making notes to give back to the motion designer. It was uncanny to see them breathing and moving, and it made me feel oddly like a proud mother. I couldn’t imagine how it would be to see them on the giant screen behind the band during a show.
When I surfaced from my flow state, Ursula was gone. I checked my phone, and it was past nine p.m. and fully dark outside.
My options were limited. I could either call someone I knew to come pick me up, like I was a child, or I could call a secure cab, which would be stupidly expensive. I hadn’t been paid for my work with the tour yet, so that was a bit of a problem.
Which was worth more to me? My pride or the $60 I’d spend on the fare?
I used the elevator ride down to decide, and by the time I made it to the lobby, pride had won.
The night security guard made it very clear I should get out of the lobby as soon as possible, thank you very much, so I went out onto the sidewalk outside to re-download the secure cab app for Omegas. The street was busy with people going out for the night, so it seemed relatively safe.
At least until a voice growled, “What are you doing out here?” from right behind me.
I yelped and jumped forward, which nearly catapulted me into the street, directly in the path of a car. Strong hands grabbed my shoulders and reeled me into what felt like a brick wall, but smelled like a strawberry mojito.
