Devon finally takes a breath and slams the phone down, noticing me. “You’re back.” His eyebrows furrow, surveying my dirty outfit. “How is she?”
“She got back safely,” I reply flatly. “How’s it been going here?”
“We’re holding them off. For now.” Devon checks out his hair in a compact mirror then winces. “But everyone’s hungry for information. They’re gonna keep hounding us until she speaks out. I’ve been taking down numbers and emails of magazines that Kady and the Blandon Pack may be interested in speaking to.”
The Blandon Pack. Just hearing their name makes my hackles rise. While I only had a quick read of the article, their comments got under my skin. Why would the strong-willed woman who takes zero bullshit allow herself to be portrayed as a shallow omega who worships those undeserving jerks? And worse, why do I care so much?
I need to ignore the protective urges she seems to have ignited in me because she’s going to be trouble. I sensed it from the moment she walked into the office, surrounded by that delicious scent—and I’m not talking about the Chinese food.
Her smell suddenly struck me, cutting through her layers of scent blocker—understated and elegant, it wrapped itself around me, gripping me in a chokehold. I only caught a hint of it, but it was enough to make me crave more. It doesn’t help that she’salso the most stunning woman I’ve laid eyes on. Her immaculate appearance only made me want to mess up her perfectly primped hair and kiss her until her lip gloss smears and she moans my name.
Most omegas I’ve met have been intimidated by my presence. That or they’ve kissed my ass. Kady, on the other hand, is a bubbling inferno under an icy-cold exterior.
When Ezra told me that I got the editor job when he was negotiating his teaching contact, I was psyched. We’d also managed to help organize a transfer for the current editor in the process, so I thought it was a win-win scenario. No one mentioned that there was another reporter already primed to take over. The same reporter who puts me in my place, says what she thinks, and is furiously unapologetic.
Kady Sinclair is everything I didn’t know I needed. Yet she already has a pack, so I can’t fucking have her.
I’ve met plenty of girls from the same background as Kady, omegas who have never wanted for anything. Usually, their sole mission in life is to bag an alpha—preferably one who has more money than their daddy—and continue to live the high life. Kady’s nothing like them. She wants to work. She has a hunger in her eyes, and seeing a woman like that reduced to mere alpha eye candy by the Blandon Pack is criminal.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said what I did to her. I certainly shouldn’t have asked her to dinner. I was getting ahead of myself. Not to mention how unprofessional it was. She already had no respect for me, and now she’ll think I’m just another rich lothario.
Not that I should care what she thinks. It doesn’t matter when she already confirmed that she’s courting. My hands curl into fists, imagining how it would feel to drive them into the face of the smug alpha whose scrawny arms were wrapped aroundher in the article. Why does the thought of anyone else touching her bother me so much?
“Calder?” Devon’s been talking, but I haven’t been paying any attention. “Are you feeling okay? After your allergic reaction?”
I clear my throat, realizing there’s been a lull in the phone calls, and all the reporters are all looking at me. Their new boss.
“Morning everyone.” I step into professional mode to address the room. “As Devon might have told you, Leah left SVU abruptly. I’ve been appointed as the new editor ofTheValley Voice.”
I’m met by a mixture of curious stares, most of them simmering in disapproval. There’s a round of hushed whispers, murmurs of, “What about Kady?”, and one beta flutters her eyelashes at me while unbuttoning her blouse to show more cleavage. I avert my gaze.
“I was the editor for my previous college’s paper. I look forward to getting to know you all and learning how things work here at SVU. I’ve already prepared a statement to issue to anyone who approaches us with questions about Kady Sinclair.” I drafted it on my walk over, something vague and generic that’ll keep the wolves at bay for now. “As for any interview requests or emails, I will handle them all personally.”
They nod.
“I’ll return in an hour.” I continue, feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. Hopefully it’s Hale saying he’s arrived. “With lunch.”
There’s an excited chatter, but Devon—still not fully won over by me—crosses his arms.
“Not sure the TVV budget covers lunch, boss.” Devon wiggles his eyebrow piercing. “The photography department needs a new lens.”
“Lunch will be on me.” I smile. “It’s the least I can do to thank you all for coming in this morning to help a colleague.”
Devon mumbles something that sounds suspiciously like, “It’ll take a lot more than lunch to make up for taking Kady’s job,” but I let it slide. His loyalty to his friend is admirable. I’ll have to prove myself.
I head down to meet Hale, cringing at the sound of Janice’s engine wheezing. Janice is the name of his beaten-up old truck that he’s driven forever. It belongs in a junk heap, but he treats it like a baby.
“You really need to replace this hunk of junk.” I groan, sliding into the passenger seat.
He ignores me, his eyes expanding at my disheveled appearance. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Where’s your car?”
“A reporter borrowed it,” I say offhandedly.
“You let a reporter you just met borrow your new car?” Now he’s really stunned. “You haven’t even let me drive it.”
