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"Brooklyn Whitlock and Dillan Doherty. We're here to see Jerrick Price. We have a 10 o'clock meeting with him," I inform the security officer who checks our IDs and verifies on his computer that we are on the schedule.
"Okay," he says after a moment. "You guys can head on up. Fourth floor, the secretary up there will take you to the conference room."
We thank him and head up. My phone vibrates in my purse a few more times, and I know it's the guys so I ignore it. Soon, we're being led to the conference room where there are already several people seated. We make introductions, but I notice none of them are Jerrick Price, the actual publisher who put this meeting on the books.
I'm told he's waiting on his assistant to get back from an appointment, and they should be along any minute. I try to keep my annoyance tempered at having to wait to start on an assistant; then I realize how much even thinking that makes me sound like a snob, so I dial back my negative thoughts and mild annoyance. This wholepotential matething has my nerves fried.
Just as I’ve cooled my heels, the conference room door opens, and two people walk in. One is a tall, relatively handsome man with jet black hair who I assume is Jerrick Price, although I’ve never met him in person. We’ve handled all of our communications so far over the phone or through email.
My eyes trail to the woman behind him, and my world stops.
Mate.
I can’t believe it. Right after the guys find their fated mate, I find mine. She’s absolutely stunning, too. Sultry eyes and waist-length chestnut brown hair. She’s got high cheekbones and an innocent look to her despite the sex appeal oozing off her. I’d bet all the money in my savings she doesn’t realize how beautiful she is.
This can’t be her, right? This isn’t the same omega the guys have been blabbering on about. Their mate is a bartender.
She walks past me just as I take in a breath, and I’m drowning in a cloud of honey and nutmeg. My whole body locks up in the herculean effort it takes not to pounce on her.
I lock eyes with my mate, and Iknowthe hunger I’m feeling is plain as day in my gaze. She drops her eyes for a second, looking demure as can be, before glancing back up shyly. I barely suppress my grin when she gasps softly at the emotion staring back at her. But still…
She doesn’t look like I feel. She looks interested, maybe even aroused, but not like she is seconds away from throwing me on the conference room table in front of a dozen people and licking me until I scream her name, consequences be damned. Nope. Whatever she’s feeling, it’s surface level. Nothing like what’s coursing through me right now. This has to be her. There wouldn’t be two omegas out there who don’t recognize their fated mates. Right?
I pull out my phone to text the guys in our group chat, not caring how rude it looks in a business meeting with my client and potential partners. As if etiquette could possibly be of any consequence when compared to finding my mate.
Me
What’s that omega’s name? Your guys’ fated mate.
Hudson
Why?
Maverick
Summer. Why?
Mason
Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting?
Me
I just found my mate, too.
Now that I have her name, I tuck my phone away and focus back on the meeting that Jerrick has started. Through sheer will, I ignore the barrage of messages coming through, creating a non stop buzzing from my pocket. I hope nobody notices the soft sounds coming from my end of the table.
I’m half in this conversation; enough to know that it’s an extremely competitive offer. It won’t take much to negotiate an offer Dillan would take over the last one. So far, they’re already willing to give him final say on title and cover designs, a generous advance, and decent royalties. I think we can negotiate copyrights and a bonus when sales are hit though. I’ll make them give him the best offer because fuck if I won’t be spending the next year working this close to her.
While I’m trying my damndest to ignore the mouthwatering scent coming from my omega mate, it’s almost impossible. I’m so distracted I flinch a little when the scraping of chairs signals the end of the meeting. Jerrick approaches Dillan, shaking his hand and thanking him for taking the meeting.
I walk over to the pair to hear Jerrick’s last words. “I wanted to introduce you to my assistant. She’ll be fielding my calls and is most likely who you will speak to if I’m not available.”
He sweeps out his arm and calls out to my mate. “Summer.”
Summer.Of course it’s the same girl.
“Summer, this is Dillan. Dillan, Summer.” They shake hands, and then Dillan introduces me as his agent to Summer. I step forward with giddy anticipation at being able to touch her. I extend my hand, probably a little too eagerly, and take hers. Electricity shoots up my arm, and all I want to do is pull her into my embrace and nuzzle her hair until she smells of me. Scent marking is a primal part of being an alpha, and I want everyone to know she’s taken. Even though she technically isn't.
