Page 18 of Staff Only

I hated that Roland lived here. It was likely all he could afford. I’d always wished I could pay him what he deserved, but he was the type of guy to report when he’d accidentally been paid too much. He would never accept charity.

When I found his building, I was appalled to find the front door lock was broken and I was able to just walk straight in off the street. I desperately wanted to track down the building’s owner and give them a piece of my mind… if that owner weren’t Eva. I gritted my teeth, trying to dislodge the unbearable need to throw Roland over my shoulder and carry him the whole way home where I could protect him properly. Instead, I trudged up the narrow stairs, wood risers worn in the middle from decades of shoes, and I came out on the second-floor hallway.

Raising my fist, I rapped my knuckles on his door. I made sure to hold the brown paper bag up high enough that he could see I brought gifts if he looked through the peephole. He needed to answer the door, even if it was for no other reason than sugary treats, so I could talk to him face to face. Surely he would see reason and come back to work. The staff missed him—hell, I missed him. The hotel wasn’t the same without him there.

When he didn’t answer the door, I knocked again. “Roland? Are you in there? We need to talk.” I was pretty sure I heard rustling on the other side, and a shadow cut in front of the peephole. “Roland, come on. Answer the door. I’m sorry, okay? We can work this out. You don’t need to quit.”

While his door remained stubbornly shut, a door to my left opened, and an elderly woman shuffled out in her housecoat and slippers. “Are you here to finish the job?” she snapped, her narrowed eyes magnified through her thick glasses.

“Pardon me?” Who was this woman, and why did she think she had a right to judge? What did she know about who I was and what I was dealing with?

This tiny woman snarled at me, and I halfway expected her to attack. “Seriously, haven’t you done enough? I assume since you’re here trying to beg for Roland’s forgiveness that you’re his selfish, naïve, omega-using boss. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Shame heated my cheeks. “Well… I wouldn’t have used quite those words, but—”

“No more talking,” she said sharply, cutting me off. “If Roland wants to talk to you, he knows where to find you. Otherwise, don’t you dare set foot here again, unless you want me to shove my slipper so far up your ass, you’ll be giving birth to a whole litter of footwear.”

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. The woman was tiny but fierce, and I had to admit, knowing Roland lived next to her made me feel marginally better about his safety. “All right. I’ll go.” I handed her the bakery bag on the way by. “Please tell him…” She waited for me to finish the sentence, but I realized there was nothing new to say. He knew how I felt, and he knew things would never change.

“Right,” I said, nodding my head once before turning toward the stairs, grief swelling inside my chest and threatening to swallow me whole. “Have a good night.”

13

Roland

Fuck. Fuckity-fuck-fuck.

“Nope, this doesn’t change anything,” I said in an attempt to convince myself, as if the words spoken out loud would somehow make them true. “The plan must go on. Just maybe… a little faster than before.” I blew out a shaky breath, casting a glare over at the pregnancy test still lying on the floor where I’d dropped it.

Pregnant. With a baby. A tiny human baby. I rolled my eyes. Obviously, it was human. Or, I mean, I hoped? A manic giggle snuck out, cut off abruptly when my throat closed up, choking off my air supply.

Thinking about the baby had my steps kicking up a notch as I paced back and forth across the short distance, from the front door, three strides to cross the kitchen, four more to the window, and then back. I couldn’t seem to get my thoughts in order, so I outlined the plan again.

Get my job back.

Get evidence that Emerson was being forced into marriage.

Put that bitch mayor in her place, either behind bars or six feet under—I wasn’t picky. As long as it was far the hell away from here. I mean, I’d be happy enough if she moved to Timbuktu. I wasn’t asking a lot.

When you put anything in point form, it made it seem easier, but I was quite certain it wouldn’t be anywhere near as straightforward as that. Especially now that I had a physical deadline of approximately seven months.

I placed my palm over my flat stomach. What would Emerson do when he found out I was pregnant? Would he still go through with his marriage to Eva? Or would he insist on marrying me instead? Did I want that? I mean, I didn’t need an alpha to take care of me. I was totally capable of raising a child by myself. But that didn’t mean it wouldn’t be nice…

Growling in frustration, I resumed my pacing, until three thumps came from the wall I shared with Collette. “Cut the racket, I’m trying to watch my show,” her muffled voice said. Gods, these walls were thin.

Her voice seemed to cut straight through my anxiety, and I stood there in the middle of my living room, staring out the window at the darkening street below.

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