Page 15 of Pack Choice

“Yes.” I rearrange my paperbacks in my bookcase at least once a week, taking pretty pictures and uploading them to social media.

“Will you be able to organize my schedule?”

“Easily.” I spent the last few months of my life juggling medical appointments, doctors and nurses.

His gaze darts up to the huge alpha lurking at my side. “We’re only paying for one of you. I’m not paying his wages–”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” I say, before Ford’s pecs start dancing again.

“Right.” His fingertips run through the bristles of his beard, and the movement has my mind turning a little dirty. I drop my eyes to his desk instead. Much safer.

It’s made of glass and yet there isn’t a smudged fingerprint in sight. Nope, just piles of papers, notebooks, two laptops, a computer and a complicated telephone. He jams his thumb against the device, and it blinks to life.

“Hey Colt,” a bright feminine voice answers from somewhere in the machine.

“Hi Simone. Could you please come into my office for a moment?”

“Sure thing,” she responds, a little too enthusiastically.

A minute later, a woman with bright pink hair and a skin-tight dress saunters through the door, pausing when she finds Mr. Red Flag isn’t alone.

“Simone,” Colten says, “this is my new assistant Molly and her …” he waves his hand at Ford and this time Ford’s jaw ticks along with his pecs. “Can you set her up on the system and let her know everything she needs to know about the office and the company?”

Simone looks at me and frowns. “I’m working on the brief for–”

“It can wait a day.” He stares at me. “I want you up and running by tomorrow.”

I consider clicking my heels together and saluting but I resist the urge and nod my head.

“We’ll talk again tomorrow morning. In my office at 8am to run through my schedule.”

I suppress a gulp. 8am? I thought working in the creative industry would mean rocking up late every morning. I’ll need to be up at the crack of dawn just to make it in time.

I straighten my shoulders.

I can do this.

No matter what all three of the other people in this room may think, I’m not a spoiled little omega, used to being waited on hand and foot. I grew up with two big brothers who enjoyed lifting me into trees and leaving me there, reading me horror stories right before my bedtime and using my soft toys as target practice.

I’ve spent the last few years helping to nurse my mom.

I’m tougher than I look.

8am start? Bring it on.

4

Colten

The door closesand I slump back in my chair, my head falling backwards as I stare up at the ceiling.

What the actual fuck?

The girl who’s been spinning around in my head for the last seven days has just strolled into my office and landed herself firmly in my lap.

I don’t want an assistant.

I don’tneedan assistant.