Page 57 of Knot Your Basic B*tch

I was going to demonstrate my competence. Quietly. Leaving all of the drama behind me. I was going to show everyone that I was capable, and I didn’t need this designation, hormones, and fancy omega scent in order to be a functional and contributing member of society.

In short, I was ready to kick ass at my desk job.

The dentist headed in, and I greeted him with a smile.

This was everything that I had ever wanted. I was finding my own way in the world.

“Good morning,” I said in an enthusiastic voice, as Dr. Miller stepped up to the reception desk.

“Coffee, black with two sugars.” He didn’t even look at me.

“What?” The word just slipped out at his brusk tone. I knew what a coffee was,obviously.

Dr. Miller sighed loudly, and then actually turned to look at me for the first time. Only, he was glaring at me like I was an idiot. “There’s a coffee mug down in the breakroom. Grab me a cup of coffee. Put two sugar packets in it. No milk or creamer. Bring it down to my office. Do you think you can manage that?” He said each word slowly, enunciating everything with contempt dripping from each syllable.

“Yeah, I got it.” Turning away before my new boss could see how red I was turning.

Was this normal? Was I so wrapped up in the proper behavior of omegas that I wasn’t able to fit into the real world anymore? I don’t know, I was getting pretty good at clocking people as assholes. But none of the alphas I’d spoken to had been sorude.

Were people only being nice to me because they wanted to get into my hot brother’s pants? Or my pants? Without the sex appeal, was I just not worthy of respect?

What was going on?

Alright. It was just my first day. Got off to a bad first impression with the boss man, but that wasn’t the end of everything. I wasn’t about to give up over one miscommunication over a little cup of coffee.

Walking down the hallways, coffee cup in hand, I heard my coworkers mutter to one another. They were whispering, but not quietly enough that I couldn’t make out their words.

“Poor little omega doesn’t know what she’s in for.”

Part of me wanted to stop walking. To just give them a frosty glare. If one sharp look was enough to make the hot-blooded alphas back at the Institute quiver in their boots, itwas probably enough to get beta women to stop whispering about me in ear shot.

I forced myself to keep walking as if I’d never heard them. They didn’t think that I could handle this job because of my designation? Well, fuck them. I was Chloe Stryker. I’d put up withmonthsof strenuous academic commitments to be here.

I wasn’t about to let some jaded coworkers take that away from me.

I brought the cup all the way back to the dentist’s office. Dr. Miller didn’t say a word to acknowledge my presence, just grabbed the coffee and took a sip. Blatantly ignoring me. I hurried away. It wasn’t like I wasavoidingmy new boss or anything. I, Chloe, the highest academic achiever in my cohort, did notcowerin the face of rude dentists. It was just because of new job jitters. Or something.

It wouldn’t kill him to say thank you.

At least I thought it wouldn’t kill him. The weight of all that ego lodged in that big old skull might be killer. Especially since it seemed built like a jenga tower. Maybe one word of gratitude would be all that it took to make the whole thing come crumbling down and destroy him.

Maybe this was a common new-hire experience? Was it normal for employees to expect a little bit of hazing? That sounded like an excellent question for google once I got home.

Alright, now that the unpleasant coffee experience was over and done with, I was ready to work.

I returned to my post at the reception desk, armed with a smile and a killer shade of red lipstick.

My back straightened as the front door opened. Emma, the other secretary at the counter, was with another patient, so it was all up to me. The man walking in was a bit bedraggled, carrying himself with nervous energy. Could he be anxious to go to the dentist? I know that I had a hard time with the thoughts of needles in my mouth.

“I’m here for my eight thirty appointment.” The man slid over his identification that read Ronald Brown.

I didn’t need to look at my watch to know that it was long past eight-thirty.

“Let me confirm the availability with Dr. Miller.” Over the weekend, I made flashcards with all of the protocols listed in the manual. I had it down to a science.

“I’m only fifteen minutes late. There was traffic on the highway.”

Fifteen minutes my ass. Someone doesn’t know how to do basic fucking math.I kept the smile on my face, though inside it was strained. “I completely understand, Mr. Brown. The policy just states that I need to check Dr. Miller’s availability for late patients.”