She laughs, her face finally settling into a smile after an appointment of frowning down at her phone and scowling at herself in the mirror while making self-deprecating comments. Comments I replied to by pointing at the rainbow bedazzled sign on my table that reads “NO NEGATIVE SELF TALK”.
“You’re a miracle worker,” Lisa says as she finishes inspecting the back of her hair, and smiles shyly at her reflection, touching one of her blonde curls.
I shake my head. “I’m good at my job, but it helps when you’re working with a fine-ass canvas. You seriously have some of the most beautiful natural curls I’ve seen.”
It’s something I told her at the beginning of her appointment, but that she refused to believe until now. Her pale cheeks flush with a hint of pleasure at my compliment. “I’ll never be able to make it look like this on my own.”
“No, probably not,” I say matter-of-factly, which gets the omega to chuckle in surprise. “I’m a professional. Of course yourhair is going to look the best right after I’ve cut and styled it. But I’ll email you a guide on what to do at home, and a list of some recommended products—at different price points, since I know not all of us are out here spending half their paycheck on shampoo like me.”
Lisa laughs again, and I rest my hands lightly on her shoulders, looking at her through the mirror. I note with pleasure how much they’ve relaxed since she sat in my chair. God, I love how much a good haircut and a few compliments can transform someone. Especially a mom and an omega like Lisa, who rarely has time or energy to spend on herself.
“You look amazing, if I do say so.”
Lisa’s still looking at herself in the mirror. “Thank you.”
“You’re going to love Il Mulino. That’s if you make it to the restaurant at all.” I wink.
Her brow furrows as she pulls her focus away from her appearance and turns to look at me. “Huh?”
I waggle my eyebrows, and a pretty flush rises on her cheeks.
“Oh!” She pauses, and her mouth tilts into a small smile. I catch a hint of her lilac and citrus scent. “You think they’ll like it?”
“They’ll love it.”
She giggles and shakes her head, pleased.
I can see why her pack finds her adorable. They’re the ones who booked the appointment, and all but kidnapped her in order to get her here. Not because they care about her hair, but because they’re worried about her. They want their omega, the mother of their children, to feel pretty and worthy of time for herself.
I get her checked out, grabbing a few samples I think will work well for her home routine, and tossing in the wrapped chocolates I’d bought for myself as a pick me up, but saw hereyeing. I’m sure her alphas would get her all the chocolate and treats her heart desires, but she’s not the type to let herself ask.
Couldn’t be me.
If I ever find a pack worthy of my time, they’re sure as hell going to know exactly what I want and need.
Which maybe is why I’m almost thirty and still alone.
I shake off the thought and wave goodbye to Lisa when her pack arrives to take her to her next pampering location, trying not to feel jealous when one of her alphas scoops her up into her arms and peppers her with delighted kisses.
What would it be like to be so cherished?
Sure, I’ve had plenty of people who want to sleep with me, want to use me to make themselves feel good and special, want what I cangivethem. But I’ve never had anything like that, and if tonight is a bust, I probably never will.
God, what a delightfully grim thought for this manufactured holiday of romance and love.
The thing is, I’m okay with it. I’m alright on my own. Honestly, I’m pretty fucking great on my own. I’ve never been happier and more at peace with myself, and after too many years in my late teens and early twenties trying to force myself into the mold of the perfect omega, that’s a tremendous accomplishment.
As I sweep and get ready for my next client, I glance down at the rose band tattooed on my finger and smile. Yes, even if tonight is a shitshow, I’ll be fine. After all, I’m in a committed relationship with someone I love dearly—myself.
Ilook good.
The bright red dress I chose for my date tonight hugs my hips and stomach, which are soft and round and fucking delectable. Visible belly lines are a feature, not a bug. The neckline is enough to show off the girls tastefully, and if I lean forward, reveal the tattoo on my sternum. Plus, the fabric is so silky and feels amazing against my skin. It’s not too cold tonight, so I can get away with just thigh highs and my fuzzy cropped white coat that makes my omega purr every time I put it on.
Paired with some cute heels, my heart-shaped clutch, and my perfectly coiffed hair, and you know what, I don’t just look good. I lookincredible.
So of course, some alphaholes have to go and ruin it for me.
I clock them immediately, lingering outside a vape store and filling the air with the sickly sweet stench of artificial cotton candy. In the past, I would’ve pulled my coat tighter, averted my eyes, or even crossed to the other side of the road. But I have a right to walk down the goddamn street without making myself smaller. So I keep walking, head up, and unbothered. Giving them the chance to prove me wrong for being wary.
