Page 42 of Feeling the Heat: Part One
Shit.
The only thing worse than being an omega would be losing my job.
There has to be some sort of mixup. Dr. Stills reassured me that heat absences are legally protected, but leave it to my company to find a loophole where they can punish me because they hired me as a beta, not an omega.
Tears spill down my cheeks as I pick up my phone andsearch for the omega clinic’s number, then press the call button.
Please let it be a mistake. Please let it be a mistake.
“Peachtree Omega Clinic, how may I help you?” A vaguely familiar voice cuts through my silent prayers.
I fight back a sob, knowing that weeping the second the receptionist picks up isn’t going to help things. “H-hi, yes, I’m calling to check in on some paperwork that was supposed to be sent to my workplace.”
“Of course! I can help you with that,” the receptionist says brightly. “What’s the patient’s name and date of birth?”
I give him my name and birthdate, wiping the snot dripping from my nose with my sleeve.
“Oh! Yes, Ms. Clairmont. Glad to hear you’re doing alright. Give me one moment to look this up…”
I recognize the voice now. It’s the same omega that was working the front desk when I first went to the clinic. Remembering his lavender scent helps soothe me. I suck in a shaky breath. “T-thanks, I appreciate it.”
“I’m so sorry, Ms. Clairmont. It looks like we’re waiting for Dr. Stills to sign off on your paperwork. I’m not sure what the delay was… Let me check… Oh! Well, that would explain it,” he says, a hint of amusement in his tone.
Oh god, he didn’t sign the paperwork because he was too busy being my heat minder. I’d half-convinced myself I hallucinated that, but I guess not.
“I’ll have him take care of it first thing in the morning. We’ll get everything sorted for you. To confirm, you need it sent to Pulse PR?”
I’m about to say yes, thank him, and let that be that, but Astrid’s comment from our conversation earlier comes back to me.
Do you have to tell them?
Maybe this mixup is a blessing in disguise.
From what I can tell, I haven’t been fired yet. What if I have the clinic send the paperwork to me instead of my office, and I go in tomorrow and see if I can get away with explaining the absence without mentioning my heat?
I could say I had a medical emergency. If they ask for documentation to verify, then I’ll give it to them. But if they don’t…
No one is going to think that a 40-year-old beta’s medical emergency is a heat.
“Ms. Clairmont?”
I startle out of my racing thoughts. “You know what, I think it’ll be easier to have them send it directly to me and I can pass it on to HR once I find out who exactly it’s supposed to go to.”
My heart feels like it’s going to beat out of my chest as I wait for the receptionist to tell me that’s against their policy.
“Sure, I can do that. Do you want me to use the email you have on file?”
I swallow down my relief. “Yes. Please. Thank you.”
“Of course!” There’s a flurry of clacking as he types something before continuing. “Just making a note of where to send it. Alright, I’ve got that all squared away for you. You should get the email tomorrow morning. Apologies again for the delay, and if you run into any issues, please have them contact us and we’ll get things figured out.”
“Okay. Thanks again. Have a good night.”
I hang up the phone and sit in silence for a long moment, shocked at myself for even considering doing this. But then my eyes fall to the stack of scent-neutralizing, slick-absorbing omega panties.
This could work.
Astrid unwittingly picked up everything I’d need to hide my designation. Which says a lot about how society treatsomegas and how they have to mask what makes them different just to walk through the world without issue, but I don’t have the mental energy to unpack that right now.
