The rest of the interview was a blur. I remember rambling about my teeth and my natural blonde hair.
Etienne’s lip curled. Fritz laughed. Mr. Hastings just looked at me with those gray eyes that saw right through my charity-shop cardigan and into my empty bank account.
"Wait in the reception, Miss Prince." Mr. Hastings' voice was a low rumble. "We need to discussyou."
They were going to turn me down.
I gathered my pride and stood up. My knees did more than wobble; they threatened to give out entirely as the smell in the room started to curl around me.
The baster lay on the table like a sacrificial offering, or maybe I left it there on purpose, for them to have a serious think about it. Though, the more I thought about it, my omega yearnings could be fulfilled by the three delicious smelling and looking alphas if we all agreed to this temporary arrangement. Anything would be better than swapping caravans with Maeve for the week while I used toys on myself again.
I walked out to the reception area where I sat on the edge of a high-back-chair, my stomach doing flips when I heard them talking about me.
"She isn't really what we're looking for, is she?" Hastings’ voice was cold, professional, but it was his words that cut through me like a blade.
"I’m concerned about her smell," Etienne added. His French accent, which I’d thought was beautiful minutes ago, now sounded like a sneer.
My face went hot. I instinctively lifted my arm and sniffed my pit. I’d soaked in the fancy bath for an hour last night and washed again in the shower this morning. I didn't smell like a caravan; I smelled like jasmine soap!
"We have to know the right candidate will hand over the baby and leave." Fritz’s German accent sounded muchdeeper now.
"She's a waitress." Hastings dismissed. "She's desperate for the money. They all are. And when she realizes what’s on offer, she'll hand it over."
"And what about us?" Etienne's voice dropped. "What if we can't let her go at the end?"
Silence followed. A heavy, thick silence that felt like it was pressing against the door.
I pushed the door back open. My chin wobbled as I looked at the three of them.
They all snapped their heads toward me, their powerful scents spiking with surprise.
"I know I'm not perfect." My voice was small but I was determined. "But I'll be good. I'll take all the vitamins. I won't be a bother. I just want... security."
Mr. Hastings stood up, his gray eyes narrowing. "And the baby, Miss Prince? How will you give up the baby so easily?"
"No idea," I admitted. "But I can give you what you need. And I'll have a cottage, and a cat to love. That should be enough."
The smell of rain spiked in the air. I looked out of the window but the sky looked clear.
My pulse thrummed when Etienne let out a low, pained groan as his hand gripped the edge of the desk.
"We have other candidates, Miss Prince." Hastings didn’t look at me, he looked at Etienne with a strained expression. "Go to your room. We'll be in touch."
I didn't wait to be told twice. I turned and fled.
I hit the button for the elevator, my vision blurry. When the doors opened at the lobby, a woman was standing there waiting to get in. She was gorgeous, with dark brunette hair and wearing a suit. She looked much more appropriate for the job for rich alphas than me.
I should have worn Maeve’s clothes.
"Excuse me." She had a perfect, polished smile. "Do you know if Mr. Hastings is running on time? I have a nine o'clock appointment."
I just nodded, unable to speak, and pushed past her.
Back in the suite, the soft towels and the cozy bed didn't feel like a dream anymore. They felt like a taunt as I waited for what felt like forever. Staring at the phone, waiting for it to ring.
But it didn't.
Desperate.That’s what he’d called me. And he was right. I was a waitress in a ratty cardigan who brought a turkey baster to a billionaire's office.
