Mutual Stalking

“So?” Winona asked from the couch on the other side of her office.

“So?” Carrie parroted as she tapped on her keyboard. 

“Your technician was right. Are you poaching him?” 

That took Carrie’s attention. She stopped her typing and looked Winona over the rim of her glasses. “You make it sound so illegal. He’s in the same company” 

“Well, you are, if you really think about it.”

Carrie shrugged, turning back to her computer. “I’m offering him a position. If he wants it, then he’ll take it. That said, draft the offer, please. I want it sent before the weekend.” 

Winona slacked on the couch, kicking her shoes off and resting her feet on the center table. “I’m off the clock, you know,” she complained.

“Yet you’re still here.”

“As a friend. Something you’re in dire need of,” Winona shot back.

Perhaps it was a mistake to hire her high school classmate as an assistant. Instead of going home, she stuck around to relax in Carrie’s office and show her what she couldn’t have.

Carrie stretched her arms as far as her blazer would allow. She missed her bed. 

As it turned out, the technician was right. Carrie herself read through various reports from previous ventures using the same material and size ratio and a number of designs really did fail. 

Between fact-checking the young technician’s findings and processing the material change, her whole team was working double time this week. Carrie, who had been doing twice as much work as needed on a normal basis, had her workload quadrupled. 

But it would be worse if the prototype did fail after manufacturing, so this was nothing in comparison to the potentially colossal setback. 

“What does he look like? Never mind, I’ll look him up,” Winona said, already focused on her mobile phone.

“What’s his name... Greg Noir...” Her nails made a ‘tap tap tap’ sound like stilettos. “Is this him? Damn.” Gazing up from her screen, Carrie saw Winona holding her phone up for her to look. Except, they sat a few feet away and all she could see was a hazy set of colors. 

Carrie squinted. “Yeah, that’s him.”

Her friend rolled her eyes, to Carrie’s delight. “Fine, I’ll send it,” she said sarcastically.

At thirty-six, her eyes had seen clearer days. Although, her eyesight wasn’t the best even as a child. Carrie got accustomed to wearing glasses, then contacts when she started to appeal to people. 

‘Glasses are for kids, Carrie. You’re a grown woman now,’ her mother had told her at fifteen. She had been training to be a good, caring, and submissive Luna for three years then.

When her Alpha denounced their marriage, Carrie decided to reclaim herself and stuck with her comfortable glasses. 

“You didn’t tell me he’s so fine!” Winona squealed beside her. She hadn’t even realized she was behind her. 

On Carrie’s computer screen was a photo of Greg Noir, his overalls half removed, exposing a short-sleeved fitted tee that looked carved into his body. The rusted skeleton of the abandoned car sat in the dust behind him. His presence was a striking contrast to the decay around him. The sun hung low, casting sharp shadows that carved out the contours of his toned frame. Carrie could clearly make out all the ridges on his torso. Everything about him, from the curve of his jaw to the fire in his eyes, spoke of roughness, ruggedness. 

“I hadn’t known.” And she wouldn’t have cared, even when a jolt shot Carrie’s spine like a jump scare, her chest in crescendo. She swallowed.

“Look at that abs. He’s an Alpha, right? Gods, you think he’s mated?” 

“No, but I know you are.” Carrie grinned, pleased by her retort. 

“Oh, come on, Miguel wouldn’t mind me looking. Besides, the question wasn’t for me, it’s for you.” 

“I don’t need a mate, thank you very much.” 

This conversation again. After failing one, Carrie was so done with talking about marriage. She didn’t need a man or woman or any mate for that matter. 

“You can have a little fun,” Winona countered, nudging her.

“I’m too busy for fun.” She closed the tab with the young technician’s photo and the screen was once again taken over by a filled spreadsheet. “Don’t you have a family to go home to?” 

“Lisa is sleeping over at her friend’s and Miguel said he’ll be home late. Your brother-in-law is working my dear Omega to dust with that party.”

The founding day of their community was coming so the events committee which her brother-in-law headed was working overtime. That included the only baker in their pack, her cousin Miguel. 

“Don’t worry, once it’s done, you can have your mate all to yourself.” 

Winona huffed and returned to her spot on the couch. “That’s why I’m occupying my free time looking at pretty things.” 

Carrie laughed at her friend. Some really do get lucky with relationships. They were a perfect match, Miguel timid but warm as a huge teddy bear and Winona an outspoken, outgoing, fierce yet clingy Beta. 

Winona left after some time and Carrie was left pondering about her life.

She was fine, for the most part. Work kept her busy. Helping her brother-in-law look after the pack occupied the rest of her time. The bits of downtime she spent reading and taking care of her plants. 

Carrie was content with her life. Most importantly, she was proud of what she had achieved. But that didn’t make her immune to the niggling thoughts of her past and her future. 

Carrie was once a bright-eyed and bushy-tailed girl, following her mom everywhere, knowing she would be like her in the future.

A Luna. 

Carrie was born to be a Luna. And she had been one until she wasn’t.

Things never go the way you want them to. That was just life. The pain, humiliation, and despondency her past had subjected her was immense, but it taught her so much. About herself and about others. In the end, Carrie came out to be the better version of herself. 

If only that better version learned not to yearn. In rare times like this, she wondered what it would be like not to go home to an empty house. How it would feel to lie down next to someone in bed. To have someone greet you first thing in the morning and ask you how your day went and tell you they love you. 

To be claimed, Carrie knew, was one thing Omegas wished for and at the end of the day, she was still an Omega.

-----

“Oh my gods!” Mandy’s squeal bounced in the four walls of his small apartment. 

Greg scowled at his sister from the kitchen where he was putting the brownies she brought into plates. “My neighbors will think I’m butchering you.” He put half of the brownie into his fridge. Mandy’s sweets were always the best.

His sister came over quicker than lightning when he sent ‘mayday’ and ‘female problems’ in one text.

She ditched dinner with her family to come to Greg’s rescue. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing but her husband was more than willing to let her go as long as he got the ‘goss’ after. 

“You are accepting that offer,” she announced as soon as he joined her on the couch. 

“I asked for an opinion, I get an order,” he murmured, shaking his head. 

Mandy simply rolled her eyes and continued whatever she was doing on his laptop. 

Earlier today, three days after the summoning by R&D’s Chief, he got an offer to join their team. It was a promotion. With that, they just confirmed his judgment was right and they saw his skills as valuable. But Greg loved the test floor and getting his hands dirty and blending into the background of loud machines and massive spacecraft. 

Then there was his massive albeit new crush on his potential new boss. Attraction hit you like a truck on a freeway when you had been celibate for the majority of your life.

The other day, he almost started an argument with one of his colleagues when he heard them talking ill of Chief Carson. There was just something about her that made his instincts go haywire, his mother’s teachings be damned.

He told Mandy this and now, she was stalking Chief Carson on social media. 

“Of course, good boy Greg is into hot librarian types,” Mandy commented.

“Don’t push my buttons,” he warned, though he knew it was futile. 

Peeking behind her, he saw an image of Chief Carson on a press release. A meeting was happening in the background, headed by her. Sleek, polished, never a hair out of place. She made a simple blouse and heels look like a power move. It was intimidating and damn mesmerizing. Something about her pulled Greg. Something in him wanted to be close just to see if she ever let her guard down. 

“There’s no reason for you to refuse the offer. The pay is better, you’ll finally stop smelling like dried sweat and engine oil, your wardrobe will finally have an upgrade and you’ll be around the love of your life!”

“I just admire her character,” he argued. “She’s something else. You know, always on top of things like she was born knowing the answer before you even ask the question. And the way she carries herself? Total confidence, but not flashy. It’s in the way she looks at you like she sees right through the nonsense.” Greg caught himself. “And I don’t have suits,” he added as if that would save him from Mandy’s knowing look.

“Admiration, attraction, love, all the same. Besides, I doubt they really were suits. Even Sire doesn’t wear that in his office. Business casual, maybe, which you don’t have clothes for too. I would offer Lester’s but you’re bigger than him. Damn, your Alpha frame.” 

He laughed at her enthusiasm, silently thanking her for glossing over his rambling.

He did his laundry at Mandy’s. Cheaper than the laundromat since she only charged him for his products and their fabric conditioner smelt way better than anything he would find himself, so she knew his closet only had plain tees and jeans.

“I don’t want to rock the boat, Mandy,” Greg admitted, his tone suddenly grave. This bugged him much more than the other stuff he came up with to avoid the promotion.

That halted his step-sister’s online stalking session. She looked up at him with pure understanding. 

This was the real reason he asked her over. Greg had made peace with staying at the bottom of the company food chain, fiddling with engines and reporting to a boss whose name was as unknown in their company as his. 

A move like that was a huge step for him. For better or for worse, he didn’t know yet. At least at the test facility, they could all pretend he didn’t exist.

“You deserve that promotion, Greg. You’ve been doing everything all by yourself and now your hard work is paying off.” Mandy moved closer to him and took his hand in hers. 

“You think so?” 

She smiled softly and affectionately. Greg suddenly missed his mother. At the same time, he was thankful he reconnected with his step-sister. “I do, dear brother, and if you’re not convinced yet, I can call Monee for a second opinion, although I know she will agree.” 

Greg chuckled, his heart swelling at the sentiment. Monee was his other step-sister, Mandy’s twin. He shook his head, “She’s probably busy.” 

Mandy huffed at the comment. “She’s always busy.”