Page 10 of Wild Omega

I cut her off as kindly as I can, before she works herself up anymore. “Is this what your therapist’s been telling you, Mom? Have you ever considered she’s just preying off your condition? Go to a self-help club at the Omega Center instead.”

All this bullshit about anxiety, when she could just shake it off instead of dwelling on the negatives and working herself into a frenzy. Sure-fire way to get anxiety is to worry about being worried. When you’ve got a problem, hard work is the way to fix it.

The line goes quiet, and I press my fingers to my forehead. Even if she’s exaggerating, I need to be patient. This woman changed my diapers, after all. “Look, Mom—”

“How’s Rickon? I haven’t heard from him lately.”

Her change of subject catches me off guard, but it’s better than talking about this junk. “He’s having a few issues with his client, but he’s doing fine.” Well, he was a week ago when I last caught up with my best friend in person.

“I never liked that actress.” Mom sighs down the line. “She does shitty sex scenes.”

I groan. “Thanks for the visual, Mom.”

She chuckles thinly. “Say hello when you see him next. I miss that kid.”

“Because he’s the favorite son you never had?” I joke, and she laughs with me.

A wistful tone softens her voice as she says, “Okay, well, I love you. Just wanted to hear your voice. I’m sure you’re busy so I’ll let you go.”

My car pulls up to the curb in front of the glistening Harkman and Laurance Legal branch office. “Mom, about the anxiety—”

She clicks her tongue. “Don’t worry about it, Callisto. Like you said, I can try harder.” Her tone brightens. “Love you, son.”

I’d call out for her to wait so I can apologize, but the driver’s turning around to glare at me. “Love you too,” I murmur before hanging up and thumbing open my Alpha Cash app. “Geez, settle down,” I huff as I tap my phone to his and slide across the seat to get out.

When I climb out and shut the door, he pulls out sharply in front of traffic, obviously with somewhere to be. Probably going home, like normal people at this time of day.

I stare up at the tall building, reflecting the first signs of sunset in the glass façade, where I’ll hole up in cases for the next five hours before I even think of closing up for the night. All a man needs is a good job, respect, and a best friend, right? I’ll think about a pack later, once I’ve established myself. I just don’t have time for an omega right now.

But it wouldn’t hurt to see how Rickon’s doing, and I’m sure he’ll want to celebrate the win I had today. I swipe into my favorite contacts and bring up his name. Lucky he’s a night owl.

Chapter four

Rickon

When I glance at my phone to check my messages, I note the time, wishing it would speed up.

“Get over here, Rick! Stop looking at your phone.” Lyra Gray snaps manicured fingers at me, and I stifle a groan. “And why’s this line so hard to say?” She thrusts the movie script at me.

“I don’t want your yacht. I just want your heart,” I read off the page.

“Yacht.Yacht.” She scrunches up her delicate nose as each attempt butchers the pronunciation. “What a hard word! Go get the screenwriter and tell him we’re changing it to boat.”

I run my tongue over my chapped lips and shuffle my aching feet. “Lyra, the yacht has been the central setting of the film. If she calls it a boat, she’s disregarding Taylor’s love for the sea.” Not to mention the entire nautical industry.

She glares at me. “Go tell him. Do I have to repeat myself twice for everything?” Lyra mutters something under her breath about firing me, and then adds, “This is what I get for hiring a man.”

I suck on the inside of my cheeks. Acting managers who think omegas are flighty should try working for a beta acting in an omega’s role. Director Yun prefers working with petite betas, because the cast doesn’t have to stop filming for heats, but at least the omega actresses have a softer side to them.

Lyra’s all broken glass edges.

At this stage, it might be a relief if Lyra fires me. I’d probably cry about it, but I’m known well enough in the industry to get another client. Truth is, she won’t fire me, because she’s notoriously difficult to work for and most other acting managers won’t take her on. The fact I’ve lasted twelve months has most of them in awe.

I keep hoping I’ll find something honest and raw buried deep inside the difficult woman’s personality, but it just never surfaces. All she has is a pretty face and the ability to copy a wide range of facial expressions.

But if I don’t believe in her, who will?

I take the manuscript with me as I leave the shade tent and cross the boardwalk to where the screenwriter sits at a table. “Hey, Abram. Lyra’s having trouble with the next scene. Do you think she could use the yacht’s name, instead ofyacht?”

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