All three of them laugh.
“First-day jitters,” Dylan says. “You’ll settle in.”
I’m holding my breath, waiting for someone to say more, to voice whatever suspicion is clearly brewing.
“Take your time, Ash,” Jasper says. “No rush. We were actually about to discuss the supply inventory for next week, but we can do that out there.”
“Yeah, let’s give the guy some privacy,” Slater agrees.
I hear footsteps moving toward the door.
“Hey, Ash?” Dylan’s voice is closer now, right outside my stall.
“Yeah?”
“Don’t drown in there on your first day.” He bangs on the stall door, making me jump. “That’s a lot of paperwork.”
All three of them are laughing as they leave, the door swinging shut behind them.
I sit in silence for a long moment, listening to my heartbeat gradually slow down.
“Oh God,” I whisper, burying my face in my hands. “What am I doing?”
The fake facial hair scratches against my palms. The wig is making my scalp itch even worse now. And I’m pretty sure I’ve sweated through at least two layers.
But I did it. I survived a bathroom encounter with three Alphas.
Though, now I have to go back out there and face them.
I finally use the toilet, then step out of the stall.
The bathroom is actually nice, I notice now that I’m not having a complete meltdown. Clean, modern fixtures. Good lighting. There’s even a potted plant on the counter next to the sink, some kind of fern that’s thriving despite being in a bathroom.
I wash my hands thoroughly, checking my reflection in the mirror. The wig is slightly askew. I adjust it carefully, making sure the edges are smooth. The facial hair is still in place. The contacts haven’t shifted.
I still look like Ash Monroe.
For now.
I dry my hands and take a deep breath. “Pull it together. You can do this.”
Then I push open the door and step back into the main office.
Everything appears normal. Mason is at his desk, focused on his computer. Dylan is on the phone, laughing about something. Jasper is leaning against Slater’s desk near the window, both of them studying something on a tablet.
Slater glances up as I pass and gives me a nod.
I do the same back, trying to look casual, and return to my desk.
My laptop is exactly where I left it, content calendar still open on the screen. I settle back into my chair and try to focus.
Instagram strategy. Posting schedule. Caption ideas.
Normal work things.
I’m actually making progress, getting into the planning, when a shadow falls over me. I lift my gaze.
Mason appears at my desk. “So, Ash. Tonight we’re going out to dinner to celebrate your first day. It’s customary.”
