Page 1 of Alpha Geek

ONE

AMELIA

Acting as an assistant had always suited Amelia Fields. Working at a shifter security agency was, in itself, somewhat of a thrill, but that wasn't what excited Amelia. It was something to mention at parties or gatherings, but she wasn’t one of the women Nick would hire to go out into the action.

Amelia adored what she did and had no shame whatsoever about it. She acted as the chief organizer and administrative in-between to get the various paper-heavy duties done that were vital to such a unique organization like the one Nick ran. That required someone focused, meticulous, rigid, and narrow. Amelia was proud to call herself that person … the foundation of the company’s growing success.

She was the one who scheduled meetings between Nick, the agents hired for protection, and the clients and informed him where he needed to be at any given second. She rarely found herself daydreaming as there wasn’t any time for that. If the office was ever somewhat calm, she made herself busy, keeping things in order in case an emergency arose, helping things go smoothly compared to when they were in disarray.

Working with all the female shifters and their clients meant that chaos was inevitable. Amelia took that as a challenge, relishing in the exciting differences that every sunrise brought her.

Today was one of these oddly calm days, and Amelia was organizing files on her main computer at one of the offices. Snow fell outside, looking like a shaken snow globe as she transferred data on each agent in alphabetical, then availability, order. Many of the women who had been assigned to the wealthy men had gone on maternity leave, having found their mate in the arms of the affluent client they were assigned to.

Amelia paid no mind to this. It was rumored that perhaps Nick was playing matchmaker in the dark, but that was just gossip. She was fine on her own, too, and even if she wanted to have someone warm her bed for one night, she had no problem flaunting her God-given shape for the sake of some indulgence.

She was tapping away, lulled into the trance of the hypnotic state of organization she thrived on, when a faint buzzing sound pressed through the sonic barrier.

“Amelia, are you still there?”

She blinked, then came back to reality, noticing the fire-shaded flashing light on the phone next to her. She pressed the button and spoke over the speakerphone.

“Still here, Nick,” she replied, rolling her neck around her shoulders. “What can I do for you?”

“When you get a second, can you come in here? I have a proposal for you.”

Don’t like the sound of that.

Amelia pursed her lips, then blew her bangs upward with a sigh. It was a habit she had started as a child when she felt herself becoming resistant to change. Even when she didn’t have bangs, she found herself doing it anyway, some strange habit embedded indefinitely into the synapses of her brain.

“Sure, one minute,” she replied pleasantly.

Despite what many people assumed, Amelia wasn’t a people pleaser because of her position at an agency that prospered off women who were the polar opposite of what society expected. They thought her contribution to the company as an assistant meant she was giving into gender stereotypes and, thus, was likely agreeable and unadventurous.

She could see it in their faces when she told them where she worked and that, yes, she was a shifter. When she told them she wasn’t a member of the security protection team, their excitement was stifled, and their noses wiggled with boredom.

But Amelia didn’t care. It was what worked for her and had for years. She was selectively adventurous and didn’t believe in risking her life for the sake of some adrenaline rush.

Or some rich dude.

Amelia stretched her arms out in her office chair, her spine audibly cracking, and then pushed at the desk to rise. She liked dressing up for work, even if it was only Nick or the various security women he would hire who would see her. She looked good in a pencil skirt that hugged her generous curves and an appropriately low blouse that showed off her delicious cleavage. It felt good to get a second glance, even from the women of whom she remained open-minded about taking to bed.

Her heels were kicked off underneath her desk, and because there weren't any meetings set for the rest of the day, she padded into Nick’s office in her sheer pantyhose. She knocked on the door, and he told her to come in instantly.

She held the door open, eyebrows raised in curiosity.

“What can I do for you today, boss?”

Nick never looked her up and down the way most men did. She hadn’t once caught him sneaking a peek at her cleavage. She found how respectful he was refreshing, treating her and the rest of the women he employed like … well, like people.

“Come sit down, Amelia,” he said, looking up from his laptop. “I have a very special client for you that I’d like to talk about.”

Amelia once again didn't like the sound of his tone. Nick had a way of slowly revealing the truth, like a magician, and he wasn’t always as straightforward as she would like him to be. But it was never about deceit; it was always about the theater. An eternal smirk lingered on his face, which meant that he was almost always up to something.

“Unless they want me to make them some copies or schedule a meeting, I’m not sure how I can be of assistance, Nick,” she replied, nearing halfway out the door.

“Amelia,” he said more seriously. “Come sit down for a second. It’s a slow day. Take a load off.”

She sighed through her teeth, knowing she couldn’t run from him on a day that was so slow. She came in and sat. Sitting straight against the chair like an act of protection.

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