Page 28 of Pack Rivals, Part One

"Perhaps we could discuss some alternative security arrangements over dinner." I can't help but smile to myself. Where is my will power? I'm not interested in any man right now. "I'm not particularly happy with the idea of you working for that catering company–"

"Oh, they fired me."

A growl sounds out down the phone. "Why?"

"Can't have an omega working for them."

He mutters some choice curse words down the receiver. "It wasn't safe for you anyway. If you need money–"

"I will earn it."

"So, dinner?"

"I'm not so sure."

"I'll pick you up at 8pm."

"I really don't know–" He hangs up before I can finish the sentence. I stare at the dead phone and jump when my bedroom door flings open.

"What did he say?" Courtney asks, Aunt Julia right behind her.

"He's going to remove the men."

"And?"

"He wants to take me out to dinner."

"This is so exciting!" Courtney spins around like a crazy child. "We need to find you a dress. And you need to let me tame your hair–"

"It isn't a date," I insist.

I am not dating. I. Am. Not. Dating.

I am fixing my head and my heart and finding a job.

"He just wants to discuss security arrangements," I explain.

"Awww," Courtney grips her hands together, "he cares about your safety." She grabs my hand. "Come on. You can borrow one of my dresses."

I shake her hand away. "I need to find a job." I think of the list Courtney showed me yesterday. Most of the jobs were unsuitable before my designation became clear, now I'm not sure I'd get hired to do a single one.

I sigh. "There must be jobs for omegas." Courtney smirks. "That don't involve stripping and sex work," I clarify.

"Well, if you really don't want to be taken care of by a super wealthy and pantie-melting hot pack of alphas, that line of work can make you a lot of money if you're an omega."

"You've never seen me try to be sexy," I say, shuddering when I remember the one time I'd attempted to strip for Karl, had ended up tangled in my panties and had to be taken to the emergency room with a concussion.

"There's a recruitment agency that specializes in finding positions for omegas. I used them to find my teaching job all those years ago," Aunt Julia says.

Finally, some useful information.

I hit the phone again. The woman at the agency sounds skeptical. She points out my lack of qualifications and drops several hints that I'd be better off hunting down a pack.

"You're quite old for an unmated omega," she says casually, "but your kind are in demand, so I'm sure you'd find someone willing to take you."

I scowl at my cellphone. "I'd really like to find a job," I emphasize, and she promises to take a look.

"Don't get your hopes up though," she insists. "I'll call you next week if I find anything."

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