Page 2 of The Alpha's Chosen Outcast

I gather my things and wave at Gretta as I head out to lunch with my friend, who works at the library across the street. It makes it really easy for us to gossip over pizza at lunch whenever we can.

“Any new bridezillas at the shop?”

“Samantha!” I say around a mouthful of pizza that will never be as good as they serve in my hometown.

“What?” She pretends to hold back a smile. “You’ve had a few doozies.”

She’s not wrong, but I’m not going to admit it.

“No, Samantha. We don’t have any new clients at all. I’m still working on the beading for that one bride in Chicago.”

“Oh, you have to take photos when that’s done. I can’t believe you sewed all those beads on in that intricate pattern by hand.”

I shrug. “I find it calming.”

She almost spits out her soda. “What kind of horrible shit happened in your life that you findthatcalming?”

I look down at my plate while I chew. I’ve never told her about my previous life, and I don’t intend to do so now.

“You always do that,” her voice turns accusatory.

“Do what?”

“Clam up when the conversation turns to anything that happened before you moved here. The rest of us talk about our lives. Why can’t you talk about yours?”

I finish chewing and swallow slowly, then look up at her.

“I’m sorry, ok? I’m just not ready to talk about what happened before I moved here—orwhyI moved here.”

“Okay. I won’t push it.” She reaches out her hand to cover mine. “I’m always here for you, though.”

“I know that.” I turn my hand over and squeeze hers. “Thanks.”

We finish eating and walk back to work, parting ways at the library so I can cross the street to the bridal shop. She calls out to me before she opens the library door.

“Savvy Seconds later with Callie and Logan?”

“Yeah,” I say, always eager to visit the thrift store. “Callie’s picking me up after my shift. Are we getting you, too?”

“No, I’m here till six, so I’ll have to meet up with you later.”

“Dinner at Eclipse tonight?”

“Heather, are you ever gonna learn to cook?”

I laugh. “I can cook.” Total lie, but I continue, “Cooking for one is sad. I always end up eating leftovers for days or throwing half of it out.”

“Valid. Okay, fine, I’ll go to Eclipse with you. Again. Because if you skipped a night they’d probably send out a search party.”

I scoff but don’t protest. She’s not wrong there, either.

Back at work, I continue sewing beads onto my Chicago bride’s dress in the intricate pattern I’d laid out on paper.

The time goes by quickly, and Jessie tells me to clock out after what feels like only a few minutes have passed. I can’t believe it’s already four.

Callie is outside in her ridiculous hot pink convertible that matches her Barbie blonde hair. I’ll never forgive her for having a supermodel body while capable of throwing down burgers faster than the rest of us.

She’s blessed with an inhuman metabolism. Which is hilarious, considering I’m the one who’s not human here.

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