Page 5 of Omega's Formula

Anna grimaces. She doesn’t like my choice of language. Apparently, I’m not respectful enough to the omegas who are likely to be disrespectful to me and only after my money. “You’ve rejected all six?”

“They weren’t suitable.”

“Define suitable.” Anna’s eyes sharpen. She might work in environmental law rather than corporate like Sara, but she can smell evasion from a mile away.

I scan the menu so I don’t have to look her in the eye. The restaurant overlooks the harbor. It’s small, simple and unpretentious, Anna’s choice. She has a knack for finding places like this: somewhere independent where the owners run it for the love of food, not profit.

Everything on the menu looks amazing. A waiter walks past carrying a large steak with fries and what looks like everything on top. My mouth waters. I put the menu down. I’m having a salad.

“Well?” Anna demands. “What’s suitable?”

“The first omega had tattoos,” I say carefully. “The second was doing his PHD in computer science. The third—”

“What’s wrong with computer science?” Anna cuts in. She doesn’t bother arguing about the tattoos. She knows how I feel about them.

“That’s not the kind of degree someone does if they’re serious about raising a family full time as soon as they get married. I don’t want a career omega. You know that.”

Anna sighs and exchanges another look with Sara. “Fine, what was wrong with the others?”

“They had lifestyles incompatible with mine.”

“What Erik means,” Sara says, leaning back in her chair, “is that none of them fit his very specific fantasy of what an omega should be.”

“That’s not—”

“Let me guess.” Anna ticks off on her fingers. “They weren’t traditional enough. They had careers they cared about. They wouldn’t want to stay home and raise your hypothetical children while you work seventy-hour weeks.”

I don’t roll my eyes back at her, even though I want to. She can roll her eyes at me all she wants but I’m not immature enough to behave like a twelve-year-old.

“We’ve talked about this,” I say, exasperated. “I need a partner who is right for me. There is nothing wrong with traditional values. A lot of omegas want to raise their own children and take on a traditional role.”

“You just want someone who’ll smile and nod and never challenge you.” Anna’s tone has lost its teasing edge. “Erik, you’re going to end up alone if you keep this up.”

My phone vibrates against the table. I ignore it.

“Better alone than with the wrong person. Besides, I’m being practical,” I say. “Marriage is a partnership. It requires compatible goals and expectations.”

We fall silent as the waiter approaches. I order my salad and a water. Anna goes for the steak, of course. Sara orders pasta.

I need to change the subject. My love life always dominates the conversation for some godforsaken reason. Sara and Anna are far too invested.

And Sara is my employee. She should be helping me bring the Bureau to heel, not encouraging my sister.

I turn to her. “Well, can I get a restraining order on the Bureau or not?”

“Not,” she says as the waiter places her soda in front of her and a glass of white wine in front of Anna. “Or at least, not a restraining order. We don’t need to go for the throat straight away. Let me call them first and see what I can do. I might be able to get them to screen the matches further before they contact you, but they are going to ask you to be reasonable about it.”

I open my mouth to argue but Anna gets there first.

“Reasonable? Erik? You know who you’re talking about right?”

My phone buzzes and I ignore it. Lunch with my sister always ends in an argument. I don’t know why she enjoys prodding me so much.

Anna takes a sip of her wine and makes a happy noise. “This is amazing, Erik. You should try it.” She holds out the glass for me to try.

“I’m working today, Anna. You know that.”

“Suit yourself.”