Page 22 of Feeling the Heat: Part Two
“Someone likes your dress,” Astrid whispers to me, leaning in. “He’s cute. Get his number.”
The heat in my cheeks flares brighter. “Stop it,” I hiss back.
The bartender passes me my drink, opening his mouth and closing it twice. I silently beg him not to say whatever he’s thinking about. He seems fine enough, but I don’t want to endure any awkward flirting right now.
“You’re that omega,” he blurts as I turn to walk away.
My spine tenses immediately, and I can’t get myself to do anything other than mutter “Thanks,” and speed walk away as fast as I can in my heels, leaving the drink behind on the counter.
I knew it was going to happen, but dammit, if the bartender recognized me, soon enough the whole waitstaff will have spread the word that the old omega is here and?—
“Shit!” I crash into the silver-haired alpha I noticed before as she extends her arms in an emphatic gesture. Stumbling backward as she accidentally clotheslines me, my heel catches on the hem of my dress, which sends me tumbling to the floor.
My hip collides against the hard marble, but that pain is nothing compared to the instant humiliation as dozens of eyes turn to see what the commotion is. Bodies move toward me in a rush, crowding in and making my omega panic as the vision of attacks from before seems a lot more plausible now.
Astrid curses as she rushes over to catch up with me, pushing past a pair of betas gawking at me, but a hand extends down to me before she gets to my side.
“I’m so sorry!” the silver-haired alpha says, face twisted in concern as she holds her hand out. “I didn’t see you there, darling.”
I take her hand, knowing it’d be rude not to, even thoughher potent alpha energy makes my omega wary to touch her. She helps me to my feet with surprising ease, clearly much stronger than her slender frame belies.
“Thank you. It’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Are you okay?” a nearby alpha asks, and I shrink back from him instinctively.
The alpha still holding my hand turns and glares at him. “She’s fine. Haven’t you ever seen someone trip before?” She turns back to me as he grimaces and moves away, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “They’re like vultures, ready to swoop in the moment a pretty omega is in need.”
I laugh as she releases my hand, shaking my head. “More like they’re eager to take pictures of the old omega falling on her ass so they can go viral.”
She arches a well-manicured brow at me. “Why would they go viral… Oh! I know you.”
Her recognition makes me take a step back, and I almost trip on my dress again, but her hand darts out to stabilize me.
“Whoa, careful!” she says with a soft chuckle. When I don’t smile back, her expression sobers and her hand drops. “I apologize for being rude. It’s just that I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you.”
My stomach clenches. “Please tell me it’s not to write another article for AlphaNet.”
The alpha releases a shocked laugh, shaking her head. “No, no, not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. I’m Sandra Martin.” The name is vaguely familiar, but she must be one of the clients or investors Lauren’s been working with directly because we haven’t met. I rack my brain to figure out what sector she’s in, to no avail.
Sandra sees my lack of recognition and reaches into her sequined clutch, pulling out a business card and extending it tome. When I don’t immediately take it, she grins. “I know it’s a bit old-fashioned, but I like how official it makes me look.”
I give her an apologetic smile and take the card, glancing down at the matte black cardstock with silver lettering.
Sandra Martin.
Executive Director of Omega Legal Defense Fund
Holy shit. The OLDF is one of the biggest non-profits advocating for omega rights in the country. I can’t believe I walked into her and had to have her help me off the damn floor. As if this weren’t already embarrassing enough.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I crashed into you and assumed you?—”
Sandra cuts me off, holding up a hand. “Don’t apologize, darling. I’m glad you ran into me.” With any other alpha, I’d think they were flirting, but the energy coming off of this alpha is comforting, not flirtatious.
Astrid approaches cautiously, my drink in hand. She raises a questioning brow at me. “Everything okay?”
“I mean, I’m going to have a huge bruise later, but I’m fine.”
“Arnica,” Sandra says with a soft smile. “I’d say ice, too, but I doubt you want to want to hold a cup of ice against your hip all night.”
