The Betas cheer.
I smile, and Icarus’ expression softens.
The mood has shifted from one of sullen acceptance to excitement because of the Alpha’s willingness to be a part of this.
Icarus always goes further than any other manager would for his staff.
Will Dad be watching this year’s performance? Will Hatton?
Sadness washes over me.
Every year, it was tradition that Dad would take us three kids down to the main hotel ballroom to see the staff’s show. Sometimes, even Papa was allowed to come with us as a special reward. Maya would only allow it, however, if Dad had been on his best behavior. I remember how strained he was, trying to please both Maya and Ellington to make sure that we didn’t miss this treat.
I had no idea that something, however, which was a treat to us, was a chore for the staff who weren’t allowed to see their own families.
“Now,” Icarus adjusts his tie, “I have an important announcement about the Christmas Matching Ball.”Finally.I rock on my heels in anticipation. What the hell is he going to say that can top him having to wear a bearded Santa suit on stage? “The owners like to wow the guests with something special. This year they have invited a celebrity Idol to perform as it approaches midnight at the end of the ball. The Beta rockstar, Immortal.”
Instantly, the garage erupts with eager whispers.
Idols are the most famous rock stars in America. They are the most gorgeous and talented Betas.
I grew up to their music. In fact, I drove my family crazy with my crush on the lavender eyed Immortal.
When I was in high school, every exercise book I had was doodled in stars, his band emblem.
Immortal was only four years older than me — the ideal Beta.
He was startlingly beautiful andgood.
I can see now that he was precisely the type of nonthreatening Beta that teenagers would go crazy over.
It was probably all spin, right?
Still, I played Immortal’s music way too loud, knew his lyrics off by heart, and swore that he would be my Beta when I was twenty-one.
Yet John was agoodBeta. He was sensible and obedient. He never cussed or drank. He did everything that his Alpha told him to.
And that included abandoning me.
So, I’m not longer into good Betas. Isn’t it just another word foroppressed?
Still, I am flooded with nerves that I’m not ready for at the thought that I will meet the man whose music has kept me company for a decade. Plus, who I have used in my fantasies while I flicked the bean more times than any one, apart from Icarus.
I hope that I don’t run into Immortal over the next few days. I won’t be able to meet his eye after the daydreams that I’ve had about him, me, and a super-sized tub of chocolate chip ice-cream.
Will I be able to hear any of his performance though, even as a server?
Icarus’ twinkling eyes meet mine. “Was this a good Christmas gift?”
My mouth hangs open.
Icarus must have suggested that Immortal be hired.
“Thank you.” I start to purr. “Amazing.”
To my surprise, Icarus’ smile fades. “Onto less good news. There have been several complaints this week about the housekeeping. Stop looking like you’re all about to go before thefiring squad. I’ll present myself personally to the Frosts. I will apologize and take any of the consequences for the failures. As manager, the buck stops here. Ms. Fields, I would appreciate it, however, if you did some extra training to ensure that everything is up to standard before the New Year.”
Ms. Fields looks distraught. “Of course, Mr. Sinner. But please, don’t take the discipline by yourself again?—”
