Page 9 of Knotty Nights
I liked it even more with the knowledge that it was surrounded by an industrial graveyard.
As I stared up at the house, watching shadows move in the orange-tinted window, I forced a big breath into my lungs.
I’m Arya, your match from AlphaNet. I’m here to please you any way you wish.
God, the words were so fucking cheesy, but Irene had assured me that every single Alpha in our employ was saying the exact same line. It was to ensure that our clients had similar experiences with the service.
She’d also given me a fake name to protect my identity. This was to guarantee that I could go back to my normal life once this was over. It surprised me to learn that some Alphas actually chose to use their real names for an escort job rather than conceal their identity.
That was pure insanity.
I pronounced each word of my introduction carefully, making sure I remembered the way they felt in my mouth. I didn’t want to mess this up by stuttering.
I reached into the zipper of my leather jacket and withdrew the small bouquet of flowers that had kept me up all night. I’d spent hours deliberating on the small gesture, wondering if it was too intimate or too personal for an escort to do.
The startup hadn’t given me a stipend for gifts, but it seemed tacky to show up to an omega’s house without something nice in hand. My next choice would’ve been chocolates, but the varieties at the store had been overwhelming.
Three red roses, one for each night of the booking, were hugged by bursts of baby’s breath. The dark brown paper that encased everything was onlyslightlycreased from the ride over.
Helmet in one hand and roses in the other, I took the stairs two at a time and stopped on the porch.
I’m Arya, your match from AlphaNet. I’m here to please you any way you wish.
I could do this. I could do this. I could?—
The front door swung open as my fist hovered in front of it, ready to knock.
A young omega, barely college age, stared back at me.
Wrong person, wrong person, wrong person!
My brain short-circuited as the prepared speech died a quiet death. I’d been prepared, damn it! The client was supposed to answer the door, not whoever this was.
My tongue clicked awkwardly in my mouth as I struggled to come up with something—anything!—to say.
“Uh, hi?” she ventured, brows converging into a confused knot. “Did you have an appointment?”
“N-no.” Fuck, the stutter. “I mean, y-yes. I’m here to see Jazmine.”
The girl eyed the flowers I was clutching like a lifeline.
“And you are?” she asked, still standing in the doorway as though forbidding my entry any further.
“I’m Atlas.”
Fuck!
I really wasn’t cut out for this job. I hadn’t even met the client and I’d already broken the first rule Irene had laid down:never reveal your true identity. It’s for your own safety.
I looked over my shoulder, wondering if it was too late to hop on my bike and head straight home to pretend like this never happened.
Jasper’s pleading face materialized in my mind. I couldn’t let him down, could I? I doubted he was mean enough to fire me, but I didn’t want to be known around the office as the untrustworthy Alpha from the dev team.
“Rosie?” A voice called from above. “Who is it? Is your Uber here?”
“Uh, yeah. It’s pulling up in a few minutes,” Rosie called back. “There’s someone here to see you?”
Her sentence held an inflection as though she was unsure about my presence on her doorstep.