Fortunately, I’m the only one in the elevator, and I sigh with relief. I’ve at least made it this far; I’m not as weak as Anthony likes to think I am. Even if I get my ass dragged back home tomorrow, I accomplished this. I smile to myself as I exit the elevator and head to my room.
It’s definitely not the Wynn, but it’s just for a few days, a place to lay my head during the night. I open the shades and am greeted with a lovely view of a roof and multiple AC units.
The room is quiet, and I feel alone. But I can be me here, and it’s my choice.
Regardless of how impressed I am with myself, I still crawl under the blankets and cry.
It shouldn’t have taken me running away from home and leaving everything behind to have my own autonomy. I miss Pàpa, my room, and God, do I miss Logan. I wonder what he’s feeling now that I’m gone. Does he miss me? Does he feel like he failed because he was my bodyguard? He wasn’t even there when I ran away, so I hope he doesn’t blame himself.
But I couldn’t stay, not when he doesn’t feel the same. I refuse to be another depressed mafia wife popping out kids while wishing I had more.
It’s time to grow a spine, time to figure out who I really am. I can do this… but I can still cry about it all the same.
The High Roller was a longer walk than I anticipated, but I’m on a budget. Plus, I don’t have a phone to get another ride. Taxis are slowly dying on the strip, and I don’t feel comfortable not having a service that can guarantee my safety.
At least my scent will be thick as fuck by the time I get to the interview. What are the qualifications for even working at a place like this? I spoke to Travis, but only briefly, telling him that Carmen suggested I contact him. That was all he needed to hear to set up the interview.
The building is located right on the strip, with gold lights and large statues in front. It’s giving an exclusive vibe, that I’m sure the rich clientele absolutely love. I tap my knuckles lightly against the door, and a massive Alpha opens it. He’s an older, bald gentleman who definitely has some weight around his belly, but he greets me with a warm smile nonetheless.
“How can I help you,” he asks softly, and my nerves ease slightly.
“I have an interview with Travis,” I reply.
“Can I see your ID?”
I pull my license out of my purse and hand it to the gentlemen. He inspects it before handing it back to me.
“Trav’s office is upstairs and to the left.” He points to a dark, hidden staircase on the left, and I nod my head.
I don’t even really get a glimpse of the club as I walk up the stairs, my nerves absolutely going haywire. Maybe this plan is stupid. Maybe I’m better off taking what little money I have and risking it on a plane ride to start up in a new city. Maybe the pack my brother wanted me to bond with isn’t so bad. No, I know for a fact that they would be. They’d want to unite our families, but I’d always be less than. I’d be the Amante Omega they were forced to bond with to make their father happy. It would never work out. This is the hand I’ve dealt myself, and it’s time to deal with it.
Travis’ door is open, and I stand in the door frame as he looks up from his paperwork. He’s a Beta, mid forties with dark-rimmed glasses and professionally trimmed hair and beard. Something about him makes me feel at ease as he waves me in and holds out his hand.
I shake it, and he gives me a soft smile.
“Nice to meet you, Elena. I’m Travis, the general manager. I know we didn’t have time to really talk over the phone. But if Carmen recommended you, that’s all I really need.”
I blink a few times.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re pretty, your scent is lovely, you’re hired.”
“That’s it. That’s the hiring process?” I ask, dumbfounded.
“The truth is, I just had two Omegas find their pack and bail. We could really use a new girl who’s willing to do the work. Of course, only things you’re comfortable with. There’s no obligation to engage in any activity you don’t want to. You’re paid hourly, and then, based on what you choose to do in the club, that is what will make up your total income.”
He shuffles through papers like he didn’t just completely drop a bomb on me just now.
“Um… what do you need from me?”
He puts a folder in front of me and smiles. “You’ll need to complete the employment information and be seen by the doctor who oversees all the club’s medical needs. There will be a screening for STIs, and you’ll be provided with your preferred method of birth control. Do you know the likely time frame of your next heat?” he asks.
I blink again, counting the months. “Probably in about two months?” I reply, not knowing the answer.
“Alphas and packs are willing to pay a hefty price to be in your heat if you’d consider it. However, it’s completely up to you. Anything you do here is up to you, and if you ever feel pressuredor uncomfortable, you can come to me or anyone else who works at the club. We’re very strict with our membership, and we don’t foresee you having any issues.”
The way he speaks is matter-of-fact and concise, and I’m not sure whether to find comfort in that or not.
