Secret Omega (Alpha Meets Omega 2)

Of course, his later arrival at the address she had given him was less thrilling.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir. This is the address you gave me,” Barron responded.

“It’s an eyesore.”

Barron scoffed but said nothing, causing him to inquire further.

“What?”

“No offense, Mr. Ulrich, but it’s been far too long since you lived like the other half.”

“Other half of what? It’s an old factory. What sort of person would live here?”

“Well, me.”

Thad stopped scowling at the window long enough to look back at him with a look of surprise.

“You live here?”

“I do.”

Thad was silent a moment, contemplating this, but offering no apologies for his distaste.

“Do I not pay you enough?”

“You pay me plenty, but my wife and kids get most of it. I got a divorce last year.”

Thad stared at him for a long while. How could he not have known this? Though Barron was technically his employee, he had always thought of him as a friend. Turns out, that was likely a delusion on his part. It was one of the rare instances where Thad got a look at himself from the outside and determined himself to be an asshole.

“Fuck me. All right, well, I tell you what. Since you’re home, anyway, why don’t you just call it a night and I’ll take the car on my own this evening.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind driving you.”

“Yeah. I’m sure. Get out and give me the keys.”

“Okay. Not going to argue with a night off.”

“Let’s get going then.”

Barron got out of the car and opened the rear door, handing him the keys as he emerged. He looked awkward, as if he wasn’t sure what to do next, then started walking to the front entrance with him. They rode up on the elevator together, Barron getting off on the third floor, while Thad continued up. So far, he was no more impressed with the interior of the place than he had been with the exterior. He walked down the hall, following the declining numbers until he reached the door at the very end and knocked.

She opened the door and looked up at him, giving him a moment’s pause. She was even more breathtaking in person. He tried not to ogle her like some sort of pervert, but it was difficult.

Her big doe eyes looked up at him, as dark as her hair, and he felt a tingle down his spine.

“Thad?” she said.

He realized he hadn’t spoken - not like him at all. He was always in charge and commanding, not some smitten schoolboy who couldn’t muster enough courage to speak to a girl.

“Yes. I’m, uh. Sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to answer so quickly.”

“Oh. I see,” she said, sounding uncertain about that response.

She should be. It made no real sense. He was floundering here. Giving himself a mental kick in the ass, he struck a more confident tone.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Almost. Let me just grab my bag and keys. Come in if you’d like.”

Thad stepped inside and looked around. The place was dire. Cheap, mass produced furnishings with little attempt made at improving the look of it. She might be a beauty but she was severely lacking in any skills at home decor.

“Interesting place,” he observed, trying to keep the disgust to a minimum.

“No, not really, but it’s what I can afford. I’ll work on it a bit as I have time. I just moved in yesterday.” She laughed as she said it, seeming non-plussed.

Either he’d done an excellent job of hiding his thoughts on it or she simply didn’t care. It was good to know that she might not be such a horrible decorator, though. Perhaps, she’d at least make it a little more presentable in the near future. His eyes fell on the bed and rested there for a moment, quickly looking away as she turned back to him. Too late, she had seen him.

“It’s a beautiful quilt. Did you make it?”

“No. My mom.”

Ah, a sore spot. Noted. Best to just change the subject.

“Ready to go then?”

“Absolutely. Where are we headed?”

She was already on her way to the door. He turned and opened it for her, waiting until she was out before he exited. He answered her while they were walking down the hall toward the elevator.

“A place downtown called Maggie Mays. They make a mean steak, but they have a diverse menu. You can get pretty much whatever you like there. It’s sort of out of the way for most folks, so it’s not so crowded and quiet.”

“Sounds great,” she replied.

She paused as they got to the car, looking at it the same way he had looked at her apartment. He could imagine that it seemed a bit much, a four-door Mercedes sedan. It screamed corporate shill, something he’d never considered before. Most women were more than happy to get in a car and chauffeured about with a wealthy businessman, but he supposed it gave off a completely different vibe without the driver. He opened the door for her and waited for her to be seated. Why was this woman putting him so completely off his game?