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I won’t be able to, and the reminder puts a scowl on my face. As determined as I was to never be indebted to another alpha, I’ve fallen right back into a dependent hole, and I don’t like it. I hate every second of feeling like I owe him something, and it only makes me want to start working sooner.
The sooner the money starts rolling in, the sooner I can give Alessandro back every penny he’s spent on me, and he can stop feeling so fucking sorry for me.
Despite my aggravation, though, I refuse to let it put a damper on my day.
I’ll buy my clothes, maybe a snack or two if I get hungry around lunch, then return the rest of the money to him. It’s the right thing to do, and it’ll make me feel better about accepting any help from him at all.
Then nothing else. No more gifts. No more help.
The only reason I’m accepting this is because I don’t have another option.
After seeing what I have of him, though, I don’t know if he’ll ever stop pitying me. I might always be a charity case where he’s concerned, which makes heat prickle my cheeks and my jaw set.
I’ll show him just how independent I can be. I’ll prove I don’t need his help–or the help of any other alpha for that matter. I’ll do it all… as soon as I can. As soon as I get my first good wave of tip money.
When the mall opens, I’m one of the first through the doors, and my eyes dance between colorful, alluring storefronts. There are so many things to see, so much to do, but I came here for a reason. I need to get my work uniform out of the way first, and then I can enjoy the rest of the afternoon wherever it takes me.
The first clothing store I step into glitters pink and gold and smells like a giant cupcake. I take my time perusing the racks, running my fingertips along the soft fabrics and wishing I could take one of everything home with me, even though I know it’s impossible.
One day, maybe, I can have another walk-in closet with enough clothes to go a straight month without re-wearing anything, but not today.
Today, I’m looking for something much less bright, less shimmery. Even when my eyes land on a knee-length purple dress that would surely hug me in all the right places, I force my feet to keep going, past the jewelry and accessories and into the next store.
I find a black shirt very similar to the hostess’ that buttons up the front. As I buy it, a smile forms on my lips before I stroll out of the store and move onto the next. I can’t control the sense of relief this shopping trip provides, nor am I eager to.
For the first time in weeks, I’m not having to count pennies and worry about my bank account dipping into the negative.
I don’t have to worry about running out of money, because this trip is on Alessandro’s tab, and knowing I don’t have to stress for a day is enough to make the corners of my eyes prick with tears. I still refuse to cry–no one has time for a breakdown–but one of these days, the dam holding back all my emotions is going to give way, and I’ll crumble.
I just hope I hold it together until I can get my feet back under me.
This might be a small start, a tiny, miniscule beginning to getting things back to a semblance of normalcy, but it’ssomething, and that’s more than I’ve had in a while.
Next, I look for pants, and I wind up torn between two that fit me so perfectly, they could have been made for me. I turn this way and that in the dressing room mirror, scrutinizing every detail.
Can I afford both? Yes.
But while I’ve accepted Alessandro’s help, I won’t allow myself to be greedy. One uniform is fine for now, enough to get me by, and I can just wash it every morning before my shift. There are plenty of laundromats around town–I’m sure I can find one close by.
Silly as it may be, I break the tie by considering which pair I think Alessandro would choose if he was here. If he was watching me strut the length of the dressing room and shake my ass, which pair would he choose?
He’d definitely pick the ones that are a little more high-waisted, the ones that hug my ass a little tighter. Not that he’ll be staring, but the thought gives me the confidence to drag them to the cash register and swipe the gift card.
The last item on the list are slip-resistant shoes, and I make a beeline for the closest shoe store, which is down a floor and toward the other end of the mall. The walls are stacked to the ceiling with colorful shoe boxes with every size and kind of shoe imaginable.
I find the small slip-resistant section at the very back, wedged between steel-toe boots and the clearance section. They aren’t pretty, not even in a “so ugly they’re cute” kind of way, but if it means I won’t ice skate across the kitchen floor, I’m good with that.
I grab the pair that looks most comfortable and head to the front, shocked I found everything so quickly and excited that I have extra time to spare before my first shift.
Bags in hand, I make my way to the food court for chicken nuggets and a chocolate sundae–both comfort foods that put a smile on my face. I watch some young children run around the fountain in the middle of the court playing tag, while some teenagers throw coins into it and make wishes.
It seems pointless to toss a piece of metal into a giant bowl of water and hope whatever you’re thinking of will come true, but if I had any spare change, I’d do it. I’d wish to make enough money that Alessandro, or any other alpha, never has to help me again. I’d wish for enough tips that I could move into a small apartment soon. I’d wish for anything that makes my life a little more tolerable, a little easier.
But instead of making wishes, I nibble on a chicken nugget and people watch. I look, I listen, I let my mind wander. I think about seeing Alessandro in just a few short hours, telling him everything on my mind. I wonder if I’ll be any good at this job.
I sit, trying not to worry about the growing list of things I need to tackle, and relax.
Then, a familiar scent hits my nose, and I freeze.
