Page 21 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
Breathe out… I’m not in danger.
Breathe in… My anxiety doesn’t control me.
Breathe out… Most people are too busy worrying about themselves to notice me.
“Camille!” A vaguely familiar voice jars me from my meditations, and I want to hide behind Astrid even more and pretend I didn’t hear them, but my friend gives me a small head shake of warning. Damn her.
Plastering on my best non-terrified smile, I turn to see it’s an omega that recently signed a contract with our firm. The one who owns the scent-matching tech company that Lauren says is going to be massive in a few years.
“Hi Misty, it’s good to see you.” My words are genuine because, out of all the clients who could’ve approached me mid-freakout, a sweet, friendly omega is the best possible option. “You look amazing,” I add, gesturing to the bright pink dress with a ruffly hem that shows off her toned golden thighs.
She beams back at me. “I was going to say the same thing to you! You shouldn’t be hiding over here with a dress like that.”
Heat floods my cheeks. “Oh, uh, I wasn’t hiding. Just… taking a moment to uh…”
Astrid snorts at my inability to come up with an excuse. “She was absolutely hiding. Hi, I’m Astrid, since this one is struggling too much to introduce me.”
Misty giggles and gives me a knowing look. “I know that feeling. I used to hate parties. Gave me hives.”
I raise an eyebrow at the confident, at-ease omega standing in front of me. “What changed? Because right now I’m about a minute away from hiding in the bathroom.”
“Not happening.” Astrid places a hand on my shoulder.
“Relax, it’s a joke!” It’s definitely not a joke, and the way her grip tightens shows she knows that.
The omega laughs again, her eyes crinkling with warmth as she watches our exchange. “Parties and social events got a lot easier when I met my pack. So at least you’ve gotten started on that. Once you have the rest, it won’t be as overwhelming.”
My stomach lurches at the mention of me having a pack, and it’s a struggle not to viscerally react to the reminder that I absolutely don’t have one and that’s one reason my omega is so freaked out tonight. “Oh! No, I don’t have a pack.”
Misty’s smile falters. “Shit, sorry, I thought I remembered Lauren telling me you were being courted, but I must’ve misremembered.” Her gaze flicks over to Astrid, expression apologetic. “Not everyone needs a pack! I know plenty of omegas who are happy with a single partner.”
I blink at her, comprehension dawning on me at the same moment Astrid lets out a loud snort and shakes her head. “I’m sure they are, but sadly for Cami here, I’m married.”
“What?” Misty’s brow scrunches.
I smack Astrid lightly. “Astrid and I are best friends. She offered to be my date when I was worried about coming to this alone. Since, like I mentioned, I’m packless. Which I know is pathetic at my age, but that’s life, I guess.” A feeble, tense laugh forces its way out of me as I try to play off my miserable love life.
The sweet omega waves a hand at me. “Not pathetic! It’ll happen someday ...” She must see the flash of pain in my expression because she adds in a hurry, “If you want it to! If you don’t, that’s cool too. Let me know if you want me to hook you up with a scent-matching consultation. Could be a great way to get insight into our process and, who knows, maybe you’ll be our next success story.”
It takes everything in me to smile and nod along with hergenerous offer. “That’s so kind of you. I’ll think about it,” I reply, dying a little on the inside knowing full well I’ve met my scent match and I’m not with him.
Astrid saves me before I show how painful this conversation is, giving my arm a small pat. “Sorry to interrupt and be a needy date, but I’m away from the kids for the first time in weeks and the cocktail menu looks incredible. If I don’t have a drink in my hand in the next few minutes, I might have my own meltdown.”
Misty nods, grinning. “Of course! Go get your drink. We can talk later. I’ll introduce you to my pack—all scent matches.” She winks conspiratorially at me before heading off toward the other side of the room.
I deflate the moment her back turns. I wipe the sweat off my brow and fight back the urge to cry. “Thanks,” I murmur.
Astrid gives me another sympathetic pat and tugs me toward the bar. “Don’t thank me. I wasn’t joking about that cocktail.”
We head over to the bar, where Astrid asks the handsome beta bartender a million questions about what’s in each drink while I shift in place, eyeing the crowd. After a moment, I spot Lauren, whose eyes light up when she notices me. Her excitement at my presence solidifies my determination not to be a selfish jerk and make tonight about my struggles. We exchange a subtle wave before Lauren turns back to laugh at something the man next to her says.
“And what can I get you, ma’am?”
I turn back to the bartender. “Oh, um, can I get a club soda with a splash of cranberry juice?”
He does a double-take as I give my order, even though I don’t think it’s that unusual. “Or something else, if you don’t have that,” I add with an awkward laugh.
“No, no, I can do that…” The beta stares at me a moment longer, and my cheeks warm under his strange attention.
