Page 7 of One for the Money
Chapter 2
I may haveto admit that my attention to detail is slipping in my advanced age of thirty-nine.
Being as this is my circus, and we don’t have an HR department that does the hiring, I can’t blame anyone but myself for this colossal fuck up.
An Omega doctor.
And afemaleOmega at that. We are so screwed.
For every ten Betas, there is one Alpha. For every five Alphas, there is one Omega. And out of every five Omegas, one is female. That means less than half a percent of the population are female Omegas.
And here one is, moving into my fucking circus.
Most Alphas are pretty flexible in their sexuality, because designation is what drives us more than anything, but there are still many who have preferences for women. Those packs typically end up taking a female Beta, and hoping the Rot doesn’t set in without exposure to an Omega if they don’t accept a male one to settle down with.
To have a female Omega, unbonded, show up on ourdoorstep is an unmitigated nightmare. Just by existing, she’s as much of a circus act as the rest of us.
I’m still going to get my lawyer to review the contract and see if I can let her go, but for now, I don’t have much of a choice but to help her get settled.
“Let’s go,” I grumble, gesturing for her to follow me out of my trailer. “I’ll show you to your place.”
She makes a little huffing noise of agreement as she climbs down the steps. Dr. Shields grabs two silver suitcases that were resting just outside my trailer and drags them behind her as she follows me around the clearing.
We set up in large, empty fields in every city we visit. Sometimes, it’s a green space behind a mall or something, but today it’s the fairgrounds in the middle of a reasonably populated part of suburbia. It’s one of the nicer places we’ve set up, especially since we can run to the strip mall across the street for good coffee in the mornings.
I should be giving her a tour of the setup, explaining who lives in each trailer, talking through the acts, and familiarizing her with how things work here, but I’m still too frustrated at myself for letting this happen.
The guys are going to be fucking insufferable when they realize my mistake.
It’s either going to be a feeding frenzy or they’re going to insist that I get rid of her. I can’t see the possibility of a middle ground. I’m not looking forward to having to fight with these assholes to keep it in their fucking pants.
“Bossman!”
Speaking of insufferable.
Dario Reynolds comes bouncing into view. He’s wearing his tiny silver hot shorts, six hours before his performance, and all of his beautiful tattooed skin is on display. He flashes Dr. Shields a pretty grin, showing off perfectly straight and white teeth.
Of all the people for her to meet first, he’s not who I would’ve picked. The Alpha is a flirt, and without his more reserved twin, Dexter, to bring him down a little, this could get lewd fast.
“Who’s this beautiful creature you’ve got with you?” he croons, throwing himself into a dramatic bow and taking Dr. Shields’s hand in his. He places a kiss on the back of it before looking up at her. “You are a vision. A masterpiece to be displayed in a museum. A sunflower in a field of wheat.”
I hold back a laugh at her sour expression. “Dario,” I say, rolling my lips inwards. “That is Dr. Alex Shields. Our new crew physician.”
Dario yanks back to his full height, which isn’t much shorter than mine. His expression is suddenly tight. “She’s going to be traveling with us?”
“I am,” Alex responds. She’s got a pretty, melodic voice. Everything about her is pretty, really. She’s got that softness to her that most Omegas have, with dark hair and even darker eyes that are sharp as tacks. But she holds herself regally, and no one could call her weak.
When I grabbed her arm earlier, I watched the light in them fade, leaving empty, dull disks in their place. I’m not sure what has happened to her in the past, what led her to my doorstep, but she bounced back quickly enough.
Whether she wants to admit it or not, her oversized reaction to a little touch only cements that she’s not cut out for circus life.
“Jude,” Dario hisses, running his hands through his blond hair, “an Omega? What about Dexter?”
Oh, fuck.
I forgot about that.
Dexter Renyolds hates Omegas.
