"Why?”
"I’m going to send a driver."
"A driver? I live in Ripon? Do you know where that is? It’s past the Watford Gap."
"Iamvery aware of the topography of the United Kingdom." It was hard to not snap but I tried to keep my voice even and grabbed a notepad. "Address."
She rattled off the address for a caravan park.
I wrote it down.
"Perhaps the helicopter will be better. Yes. Be ready at five this afternoon," I said. "The helicopter will bring you to Hastings Tower. I’ll have a hotel room booked for this evening and I will expect you in my office tomorrow morning for an interview at eight o’clock sharp."
"Eight," she repeated. "Okay.Should I...dress up? I don't have a suit."
"Wear something comfortable," I said. “If you get the job, I’m sure I’ll burn every item of clothing you turn up with.”
“You’re making assumptions, Hastings.” Her voice had an edge that omegas didn’t normally have. Strangely, I liked it.
“It’s Mr. Hastings. And we could always cancel.”
"You’re probably right anyway,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Your assumptions about me are probably right. I’m probably not the right person for this job. I’ll be terrible…”
My jaw clenched. “The helicopter will be there at four.”
“You said five.”
I turned away from Etienne and Fritz and smiled. “See you tomorrow morning, Presley.”
“Okay. Thanks. I mean... yeah. Oh… Thanks."
The line clicked dead.
I held the receiver for a moment longer than necessary before placing it back in the cradle. The room was quiet, but the air had changed. The static charge of boredom was gone, replaced by a confused electricity.
"Womb to hire," Etienne whispered. He looked genuinely shocked. "She sounds... messy."
"She sounds like a liability, but fun," Fritz said, though he was already pulling out his phone. "Ripon. I’ll call the transport team."
I walked to the window and stared out at the gray ribbon of the Thames. "Send the helicopter with the heated seats."
Fritz paused, his thumb hovering over the screen. He shot me a look. "Heated seats?"
"She sounded cold," I said. There was a shiver in her defiant tone.
But I didn't need to explain it to my pack mates. They were alphas; they understood the instinct to provide warmth even when it made no logical sense.
"She lives in a caravan park," Etienne mused as he stood up to join me at the window. "This will be a culture shock. For her, and for us."
"She’s a potential candidate," I said, my voice hardening. "If she wins the contract, she’ll give us a baby. Nothing more. We need an heir. She needs money. It’s a transaction."
"Ja." Fritz put the phone to his ear and turned to me. "A transaction with a woman who lists her dental hygiene as a primary qualification. This will be fun."
I watched a boat cut a wake through the water below.
