Taking a cleansing breath, I put my phone away and throw out my trash. I could be building this up too much.
Lena pokes her head back in, and I stand up as she motions for me to walk with her. I’ve been left with clients alone various times while working, and it’s never been a problem.
“Mrs. Larson wants to know how you’d alter some of the pieces she’s chosen,” Lena explains. “She’s a very hands on client, and always has a lot of questions.”
I don’t typically need to talk to people, so I simply nod. Everyone thinks I’m really shy, but I think it’s more that I feel awkward in social settings. It’s easier to do my job without chit chatting, and also faster.
Old habits are difficult to break, and I’d rather observe before saying anything. It’s saved my life on more than one occasion.
“Don’t worry about having to talk to her,” Lena says quickly. “You can twitch fabric into place, do what you typically do, and I’ll do the rest, okay?”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
“It’s no problem at all. We adore you, and we don’t want you to feel uncomfortable at all,” she gushes, making me flush as I nod.
The two of us walk into the dressing room, and I get my first glimpse of my client. Mrs. Larson is in her forties, with lots of curves, and short even in her heels.
I haven’t seen many alphas who have done cosmetic surgery, but I can see it in the sculpting of her jaw and nose. They’re too sharp to have been made by nature. Her gray eyes are stormy and shrewd as she watches me through the mirror, her nose flaring as she inappropriately attempts to smell me.
Ugh, this is going to suck.
“Now, I love this dress for the Winstrom’s party, but I’m concerned about the hem,” she sighs, twitching the train of the dress.
The front will need to be raised quite a bit, and I walk over to kneel in front of her to see by how much.
“Hmm. So pretty and submissive,” she purrs under her breath as Lena begins to speak. I pretend not to hear her as I grab some pins and get to work, letting Lena be my voice.
My blood is boiling, and I can feel Bellamy checking on me through our bond. I can’t tell him I’m fine, because that’s a lie, so I continue to work.
“I suppose raising it there would work,” Mrs. Larson muses. “Will it affect the train?”
I shake my head, the strong scent of her pheromones making me lightheaded. She smells like roses and dead things, and it makes my nose twitch unhappily.
When alphas are terrible matches for you, they can smell worse than they would for others. It’s nature’s way of helping an omega find a mate.
Unfortunately, it just makes me feel queasy. I have a pack, I’m not looking, Universe! Kindly fuck off.
I disassociate slightly as I continue to alter the dress. Her waist is so small, I’ll need to take in the sides as well. She’s built like an hourglass, which means the dress doesn’t show off her curves the way she expressly says that she wants.
My hair is half up in tiny clips so it’s off my face, while the rest tumbles down my back. As I’m moving to stand, Mrs. Larson twirls a piece of my hair in her fingers.
“Hmmm. This material is very soft,” she says, talking about my hair and not the goddamned dress.
Lena can’t see what she’s doing, but nods and discusses where the material for the dress is from. Even in her gross inability to understand boundaries, Mrs. Larson is careful. Her body is also blocking my ability to telegraph to Lena that I need to be excused.
Immediately.
My chest feels tight as I finish what needs to be done, and I force myself to step back. Mrs. Larson’s finger gets stuck for a moment in my hair, and I wince as it pulls sharply against my scalp before she releases me.
“Winter, darling, will you be a dear and help me out of this dress?” she asks, her eyes taking on a predatory nature.
I manage to finally catch Lena’s eye, and she flinches at whatever she sees.
“I’m so sorry, Mrs. Larson. I’ll need to help you as I pulled Winter away from a rush order,” Lena says smoothly. “Winter, go ahead and return to your work.”
I have the ridiculous feeling that I should curtsy or some shit, and barely manage to keep myself from doing it as I step around the raised platform where Mrs. Larson stands and leave them behind.
My hand presses against my chest as my steps get quicker once I’m in the hallway that leads back to the employee room.
