003: Who is she?

Ashley

His lips crashed onto mine, and my brain basically went blank.

His Alpha aura was so strong it hit me like a physical weight, making my head spin. My legs felt like wet noodles. If I hadn't grabbed onto his shirt and clung to him for dear life, I would have collapsed right there on the floor.

The camera flashes were blinding.

“Let's get inside, sweetheart,” he said against my lips. His voice was warm, husky, and sounded entirely too real for the cameras.

Then, his hand clamped down on my waist like a steel trap.

Though my brain was dizzy, he led me inside, but as soon as we're out of sight, his grip tightened on my arm. He dragged me around the corner, shoved me into a quiet, empty hallway, and dropped the act completely.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a thick wad of dollar bills, and shoved them into my hand.

“Take this and disappear,” he ordered coldly.

Did he just… pay me?

All the dizziness evaporated, instantly replaced by a hot, boiling wave of absolute rage. Who the hell did this oversized brute think I was?

“Are you kidding me right now? I'm not a stray dog you can throw scraps at,” I hissed.

And before he could react, I shoved the money violently back into his chest, the bills scattering all over the floor.

“Jerk.” Without giving him a second glance, I spun on my heel and marched away, my blood boiling.

What a total waste of a handsome face.

***

My legs were still slightly shaky from the kiss when I finally sat down in the interview room. Though my mind was still reeling, I forced myself to maintain a professional posture.

The man sitting across the desk from me introduced himself as Dean, the General Manager.

“I've got to admit, Miss Ashley, your credentials are… well, they’re even more impressive than I thought,” Dean said, looking up over my papers.

I couldn't help the bitter laugh that slipped out. “If they’re so impressive, why does my resume get treated like radioactive waste the second a clinic sees my Omega status?”

Though everyone acts like they frown upon treating Omega's like second class citizens, doesn't change the fact that Omega's are the last option anyone would think of when it comes to literally anything.

He winced, clearly uncomfortable. “Sports medicine is… traditional. But we—”

“Dean, I am so entirely, thoroughly done!”

The office door banged open and a guy stormed in, ripping his staff badge off his chest and tossing it onto Dean’s keyboard.

Dean sighed and stood up. “Reese, wait. Let's talk about this later. I'm in the middle of an interview right now, don't worry, I'll discuss with management, they'll increase your pay. But please, don't leave now. You know the thing with... Just give me a moment to be done, please.”

“No amount of money is going to make me stay,” Reese said, shaking his head. “He doesn't listen to medical advice or anything I say, he won't even let anyone in. I'm sorry but I value my sanity, I have to leave before I'm completely insane. Good luck surviving Brooks, Dean. May God have mercy on whoever takes my place.”

He didn't even wait for a response. He spun around and stormed right back out.

Dean sank back into his chair, dropping his face into his hands. “I am going to have high blood pressure.”

Before the door could even close, a sharply dressed woman rushed into the office. She looked frantic, holding a tablet to her chest.

“Dean, please tell me you were able to convince Reese from quitting?” She asked, rubbing her temples.

“He's gone, Sarah. I tried to convince him but his mind's made up.” he sighed.

Sarah groaned in frustration. Then, she turned and noticed me sitting in the chair. “And who is she?”

“Someone we're considering for the team's specialist position.” Dean replied.

She narrowed her eyes on me. “You look familiar.” She shook her head, brushing the thought away. “Anyway, what are your qualifications?”

I started listing my background. But as soon as I mentioned the word 'orthopedic', her eyes lit up like fireworks. She leaned in. “Wait. Can you work as a physical therapist?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but before a single word could come out, the office door violently burst open for the third time.

And a tall man walked in, radiating pure anger. “How can you let Reese quit like that?!”

It was him. The arrogant jerk from outside.

As though he could hear my thoughts, his eyes landed on me. He stopped dead in his tracks. His forehead creased into a deep frown.

“What is she doing here?” he demanded.

The room went completely silent.

“Wait a minute,” Dean laughed in disbelief. “You two actually know each other? Is she the one from the courtyard?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered, glaring at him.

Dean slapped his hand on the desk, looking happier than a kid in a candy store. “Miss Ashley, you are hired.”

“I'm sorry, what?” I asked.

The arrogant jerk looked furious. “You must be fucking kidding me.”

“We're completely serious,” Sarah stepped in, taking charge of the situation. “Since you want to go around randomly kissing people, we have a problem. I was wondering where I knew her from, but now I remember. You let the paparazzi take pictures of you two. And I just got a tip that the news is making the front page of the New York Times tomorrow.”

Sarah crossed her arms, looking the jerk up and down. “So, now we have to make the public believe you two are really a thing to save your image. And last I checked, Reese just quit, which means you need a new physical therapist.”

She gestured toward me. “Which Miss Ashley here happens to qualify for.”

Sarah gave him a tight, professional smile. “So, congratulations, Brooks. You just got yourself a new physical therapist.”