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For some reason, I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Everyone here serves a purpose, even if I personally think the show is ridiculous.
My thoughts drift to the day ahead of me and what sort of adventures lie in wait. Will I meet all the alphas at once?
What if they’re awful?
My thoughts are cut off when she suddenly has a mischievous grin and I spy her reaching for the red glitter through the mirror. “One last thing before you’re camera ready.” The moment her fingers touch the container, I jump from my seat and take a few steps back, holding a hand up to ward her off.
“Absolutely not, Rosey. I told you no glitter jizz. Once you get that stuff on you, there’s no getting rid of it. It’s worse than stepping in dog shit. Glitter fucking haunts you for life. You can wake up one day two years later and find it under your armpits, or your doctor is finding it in your hoo-ha. No, thank you.”
She bends over, laughing her ass off, her ombre hair flying in all directions. I have to wait for her to get control over herself. “The red glitter is my personal signature, girlie. I only put it on myself. Don’t worry.”
With Rosey finished doing my hair and makeup, she motions for me to get dressed. I slide behind the dressing screen and maneuver my way into everything. She whistles when I come out, handing me a gorgeous set of dangly diamond earrings. “Black is totally your color, girlie. I’ll have to remember that. Now go break a leg.”
I know that’s a saying in show business, but fuck, I hope I don’t actually break a leg.
Chapter 12
Verity
Rosey sends me off with stern instructions to not mess up her hard work, and I’m finding it difficult not to. Sitting will wrinkle the dress, biting my fingernails will smudge my lipstick, same with eating or drinking anything. I feel like I’ve been put in a bubble where I can’t do a single thing until the fucking cameras wrap up filming. And who knows when that will be.
I thought it was ridiculous how early Rosey wanted to start on making me camera ready, but surprisingly, it took every bit of available time.
As per her instructions, I’m waiting in the omega common room for Karen Heinz, Mrs. Violet’s assistant, to arrive and give further instructions. She waltzes in and immediately checks the time on her watch before pushing a yellow, Heat Paradise branded pen behind her ear. I’m beginning to think she doesn’t go anywhere without it. “Good. We’re on schedule. Now it’s time for you to see Dr. DeLuca.” She spins and doesn’t wait for me to follow, her red heels clicking on the floor.
I rush after her. “Wait. Why do I need to see the doctor again? I saw him before we came here.” I ask, my heart already fluttering at the prospect of seeing Dr. Em again.
Karen gives me a warm smile from over her shoulder and I return it with my own. She seems a little more demure than Mrs. Violet. “Just a safety precaution. We want to ensure you don’t unexpectedly go into heat with so many alphas around. He’ll explain the safeguards we have in place so accidents like that don’t happen.”
Well, that tracks. It reminds me of Dr. Em saying we’ll be spending plenty of time together.
After descending a staircase, we turn down another hallway in the massive manor. It’d be so easy to get turned around in a place this big. I’m glad someone knows where they’re going.
She leads me to a door that has a small plaque next to it that says, Medical Wing, and opens it into a waiting area of sorts. There seems to be several exam rooms leading off the main area, and a hallway around the corner. I’ve never seen them film this area of the mansion, but with how competitive alphas get, it makes sense for them to have medical personnel on standby, even if it’s only the doctor staffing it.
Dr. Em pokes his head out of a doorway at the sound of us entering. I’m once again struck by how attractive he is. The mere sight of him has me wanting to take a step closer, a reaction I shouldn’t have when seeing my doctor.
“Miss Graves, you’re right on time.” His smooth voice sends a shiver down my spine that I’m not good at hiding. Thank goodness I’m standing behind Karen and she doesn’t see it. Dr. Em does though, and his lips twitch like he wants to smile. “Follow me into the exam room, please.” His tone is professional, but there’s something in his gray eyes I can’t quite place.
I hold my breath as I do what he says, not wanting to embarrass myself while Karen’s in view. He shuts the door behind us and gestures for me to sit on the exam table. This time, I hesitate to do what he wants. Rosey will be so upset if I wrinkle the skirt. She’s beyond fixated on helping my image through the clothes she picks out. Perhaps they should’ve had me see the doctor before getting glammed up. Seems a bit backward to me.
Dr. Em notices my pause and raises an eyebrow. His searing gaze tracks over my body, memorizing every dip and curve. It sparks those butterflies to life, and reminds me that I was in Andrik’s shirt the last time we saw each other.
“Are you nervous, Little Omega?” His light, amused chuckle is accompanied by a purr. I’m not, but the sound still has my body relaxing.
“I don’t want to wrinkle my skirt,” I admit, not sure why I’m sharing the real reason. It sounds silly when I say it out loud.
Like magnets drawn to each other, he moves to stand in front of me. It’s like we can tell we’re both toeing a line we shouldn’t be messing with, but at the same time, we can’t help ourselves.
Our gazes remain locked, and after a slight hesitation, he reaches out for me. I suck in a sharp breath, anticipating his touch, wanting it more than I wanted to run away from the ceremony. His fingers are featherlight before gaining more purpose. He runs soothing hands up and down my arms.
The purr rumbling from him lulls me into such a comfortable space, I can’t help but sway toward him, wanting to lay my head on his chest so I can feel the vibrations against my cheek. I’m pleasantly surprised when he doesn’t stop me. There’s something about my doctor that seems to draw me in. Like my omega wants to claim him as hers, and my pheromones are certainly saying the same thing as my sweet pears plume between us.
“I wouldn’t worry too much, Miss Graves. I’m sure if you do, the wrinkles won’t show with how dark the fabric is.” He tries to stamp out my anxiety, but it’s still there, so he continues, “The cameras will be more concerned with getting your facial reactions than focusing on your ass. Only the contestants will be looking there.” The statement is punctuated with a soft growl and he clamps his lips together like he didn’t mean to let it escape.
“Yeah, but the cameras will need to get their reactions too, meaning my ass will be on full display,” I moan, my fear of society choosing the worst alphas flaring up again. “I need to be perfect so they won’t stick me with a bad match.”
All the previous reluctance he’s shown me so far flees as his arms wrap around me, realizing I’m freaking out even more. The pressure of his hold helps me feel slightly better. It’s something Ryland does for me in times like this. I hold on to his lab coat with both hands and let him soothe me, his scent reminding me of the last time I baked cookies with dark chocolate chips. They’ve always been my favorite.
