Page 53 of The Alpha's Fake Mate
I kept running it over and over in my mind. How rude I was and continued to be. He could only be feeling sorry for me, because what was left of me to like? It made my chest burn in pain to think it.
“Do you have a gym?” I asked.
“Of course. Fully furnished. Third floor. It has a glass ceiling.”
I needed to punch a bag. Or run. Or something. I didn’t have time today, but it was good to know the gym was there for my use at any time.
The rest of the hours before we were to leave for the blood draw I spent setting up the rest of my office, with a short break for lunch where I made a sandwich at the buffet of offerings and ate it at my new desk.
By three o’clock, Orion came by to say we should think about leaving.
The day was clear, mid-spring, and a depthless blue sky stretched over the estate. Birds flew in dark arcs toward the horizon. Everything was bright and alive and singing with life.
My stomach rumbled but not from hunger. Nerves threatened to deplete all my energy. All the what-ifs. I couldn’t fathom them.
The limo rumbled softly. We sat in leather luxury.
The drive took us on winding, pretty roads but before long we entered a freeway. I’d never been driven anywhere except the hospital when I was hurt—and I’d been unconscious then—until yesterday, and the freeway seemed fast and unsafe. Too many cars.
I gripped the edges of my trousers until my knuckles were white and kept my gaze turned toward the window, my heart trembling.
Orion might have offered me another beer but the stipulations were I could have food but no alcohol before the test.
“Would you like some water?” he asked.
Orion really was too sweet for an Alpha, let alone an Alpha who owned an Omega farm. And oh, how polite he was.
I shook my head.
“We won’t know the results until tomorrow,” he said. “So you can relax.”
“It only makes things worse,” I muttered. “This waiting.”
Though the limo windows were dimmed, the light still hurt my eyes.
“We’ll go back tomorrow for the results.”
“In person?”
“They won’t give them over the phone. I don’t know, policy or something,” he replied.
The city stretched before us, a gray silhouette of towers that seemed unreal. Sure, I’d seen photos of cities, but the real thing was almost alien and obtrusive. The limo took us through a tunnel and straight into the city until I lost perspective and all I could see were busy streets and buildings on either side of me.
We stopped in a parking garage. Orion and I got out into an atmosphere of gas fumes and burnt oil and went to an elevator—another new contraption for me—and took it to the seventeenth floor.
I did not know how high that was in measurements, but too high for me. Way too high. I wanted to throw up.
Once we stepped out of the elevator, however, the carpeted floors and bright lights encased us. There was no sensation of being high up any longer. A reception desk stood at the end of a small room and Orion walked up to it without hesitation.
I could not believe the person who sat behind that desk.
An Omega! I could smell his lavender and silk scent.
He said, “Mister Callahan?”
“Yes.”
“You have an appointment for your Omega, Holland, is that correct?”
