Of course they are. As if the universe hasn’t taken enough of a cosmic dump on me by now. The two Alphas who bought me breakfast when they could see I was broke, just an hour or so ago, are here to see me asking for a job like some kind of charity case.
I can’t decide if it’s better of them to turn me away or not. At least I wouldn’t owe them anything else. But at the same time, I do need this job. Badly.
I can’t help but be wary though. These are three powerful Alphas. They might not be CEOs or city businessmen, but it’s clear they hold a lot of sway in their sphere. They’re successful, well known, and well liked. And here I am with my broken car and empty wallet. They could take advantage of my desperation. Make me do all kinds of things to prove how badly I want this. The fucked up part is, with so few options, I might not have much of a choice.
Alphas never do anything for free. Why would they? It’s just a matter of what they ask for to decide if I give in or take Cora and run like hell.
Cash is still talking to the two of them when I zone back into the conversation. “I was thinking she could solve our bartender problem,” he’s saying. “It’s kinda a win-win, then.”
“Sure,” Lincoln says. “That works for me.”
Everett nods when Cash looks to him, and that’s… it.
Neither of them ask me about my qualifications or anything else. There’s no hesitation even. They’re just… on board. Either they trust Cash’s judgment that much, or they’re that desperate for someone to get behind the bar. Or some third thing I don’t really want to think about too hard.
“Um, I have a question,” I say, speaking up for the first time. “Well, more like a problem, I guess.” I squeeze Cora’s hand, hoping the gesture will reassure her that I’m not callinghera problem. “I’d need somewhere for Cora to be during work hours. She can’t stay on her own.”
All three of them look down at Cora, and to her credit, she doesn’t flinch away from their glances. She leans closer to me, holding on to my hand and her stuffed elephant, staring back at the three men.
“My sister could help,” Lincoln says. “She loves kids, and she works from home part time. Jewelry business. She couldhelp out by watching Cora. Or she can hang out in the back sometimes while you work. Whatever you want.”
He says it like it’s no big deal either way, offering practical solutions to the issue.
Again, the thought of leaving Cora with strangers makes me feel sick, but at the same time… I don’t have much of a choice. This is probably the best offer I’m going to get, and even though there are a couple of choices in front of me, I’m still backed into a metaphorical corner.
I can get out of it, but I’m going to need to give in to get there.
I take a deep breath and let it out, hoping the three of them can’t tell how big of a decision this is for me. “Okay. I’ll take the job.”
Everett and Lincoln don’t react much. They’re both hard to read—especially Everett with his gruff intensity. But Cash beams, looking genuinely pleased.
The arrangement makes my stomach flutter with nerves, but even I can see it’s the best thing I’ve got going. Cora can’t grow up in the back of my car, I know that. She needs something even approaching stability. And full meals. At least this is just temporary—just until I can get my car fixed and figure out our next move.
I can live with that.
Chapter 4
Everett
I stare at the papers in front of me, trying for the third time to focus enough to finish filling them out. It shouldn’t be this hard. I fill this kind of shit out daily. I could do it in my sleep if I really had to.
Apparently what I can’t do is do it distracted.
My mind keeps drifting to the bar. We’ve been training Harper, the woman Cash found and decided to help, for a few days now, and I keep finding myself eager to finish up here and head over there. Which is fucking ridiculous because I’ve got actual important shit to do. Criminals to process, complaints to check up on, files to… file. But here I am thinking about some Omega with secrets instead of the reports on my desk.
It’s just that I can’t help but be intrigued by her story. She gets so evasive whenever anyone asks about her past, even if it’s just to find out where the hell she came from. There’s a way she holds herself, like she’s expecting a blow, and she watches every exit like she’s constantly planning and revising her escape routes. I’ve seen it before, with victims of certain crimes, and I can start putting together some of the pieces of the puzzle of Harper, but it’s all just speculation.
Cash’s impulsive decisions usually annoy the hell out of me, but hiring Harper was a good call. She’s taken to the work better than I expected her to, keeping her head down and working with a quiet efficiency that actually gets shit done instead of just looking busy.
Our last bartender, Jessie, was sweet enough, but she would be at the bar until well after closing because she couldn’t manage to get things done quickly. She quit before we had to fire her, and Harper is like night and day different from that.
I remember the morning at Dolly’s when I paid for her breakfast. There was a flash of pride in her eyes when she tried to refuse, and a protectiveness in the way she looked at that little girl. She tried to make herself invisible, but she couldn’t quite manage it.
There’s definitely a story there, and not a pretty one, based on those faint marks on her neck that never heal right. It’s hard to blame her for being closed mouth and jumpy when I think about what that means.
I sigh and rub a hand down my face, shoving away thoughts of Harper. I have work to do, and sitting here thinking about other shit isn’t going to get it done any faster. It’s a struggle to get myself back focused on work, but I manage it, keeping my nose to the grindstone until I have a completed stack of reports in front of me.
Some people would have just fucked off for the day, leaving the pile behind to deal with another time. There’s basically no oversight when you’re the sheriff, and if you tell people you’re leaving, they don’t argue.