Page 137 of Knot Baked Out For This
I spin around to find Rowan standing in my bakery doorway, phone still pressed to his ear, looking unfairly attractive in his uniform.
"How are you?—"
"Was coming for the surprise. Heard modeling agent, came faster." He pockets his phone, crosses to me in three strides, and suddenly I'm very aware that everyone's watching. "You don't need to ask permission, Hazel. Your decisions are yours."
"I wasn't asking permission," I protest. "I wanted your opinion."
"My opinion is you'd be beautiful in their clothes and they're lucky to have you." He turns to Sabrina, extends his hand. "Rowan Cambridge. One of Hazel's Alphas."
Sabrina shakes his hand, and her professional smile warms into something genuine.
"It's refreshing to see Alphas who support their Omega's independence."
"Obviously," Rowan says simply. "She's not a pet or toy. She has free will with us and does whatever makes her happy."
Free will. With them. Not despite them, but with them.
My chest goes tight with something that feels dangerously like love.
"Wonderful!" Sabrina produces paperwork from her designer bag. "If you could sign these to secure the slot? And if you're interested, we have positions opening for holiday shoots. The pay goes directly to the Omega, not through pack accounts."
Directly to me. My money? Holy wow…
"I'll think about it," I manage, signing papers with hands that only shake a little.
Sabrina takes the contracts, professional smile back in place.
"Perfect! Someone will contact you with details by tomorrow. Saturday, 9 AM sharp."
"Let me get you some treats for the road," I say, because feeding people is my default setting.
I pack a box—apple turnovers, Mila's savory hand pies, Rosemarie's experimental coffee cookies that have enough caffeine to power a small city.
"These look incredible," Sabrina says, then lower, "You know, food styling is also something we're branching into. If you're interested."
Food styling. Getting paid to make food look pretty. That's literally what I do every day for free.
After she leaves, the bakery explodes.
"BOSS IS GONNA BE A MODEL!" Mila shrieks.
"The Ethereal Agency!" Reverie is actually bouncing. "Do you know who they are? They're the top 1% for Omega modeling!They have protection clauses! Fair pay! No creepy Alpha photographers!"
"It's just one shoot?—"
"It's the beginning of your empire!" Rosemarie declares. "First modeling, then food styling, then your own cookbook, then a TV show?—"
"Let's start with one photoshoot," I interrupt, but I'm laughing.
"Lunch," Rowan says firmly. "We're celebrating. Ladies, hold the fort?"
"GO!" They practically shove us out the door. "Be romantic! Take pictures! Make good choices!"
"Or bad ones!" Mila adds. "Bad ones make better stories!"
Rowan takes my hand as we walk, and it takes me half a block to realize we're holding hands. In public. Where everyone can see.
"This is nice," I say, tightening my grip.
