“That’s awful. Why do that instead of just making sure the deal is solid and making the profit off the sale of the building?”
“It has to do with earnest money and paying to free themselves of the contract rather than getting taken to the cleaners for all their assets in a full default. It’s catching up with him, though. Word has gotten around and so, you have people like me attending meetings with buyers to make sure they don’t get screwed over.”
“Wow. I had no idea. I mean, I knew he was demanding and mean spirited, but had no idea that he was that big of a jerk. Doesn’t seem like it’s in his best interests, long term.”
“It’s not. He doesn’t care. He’s on his way out, planning on selling it by the end of the year. Get what you can from him and be prepared to take the experience with you.”
“How do you know all this?”
“You don’t get very far in this business without knowing stuff like that.”
“I don’t know how much I’m going to learn. He seems to only want someone to fetch his coffee, run his errands, and take notes in his meetings.”
“Then you’re learning.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Keep your eyes and ears open. Nasteau isn’t the man you’ll learn from, the people around him are. Tolerate him and learn from them. If it gets too bad, I can always help you find a place elsewhere. I hated seeing how rude he was to you after our meeting.”
“I’m getting used to it. Thanks for the advice, though.”
He shrugged, pulling into a parking lot near an upscale Italian place called Spinose. She waited while he walked around and opened her door, walking with her up the sidewalk and around to the entrance.
“Two for Ulrich,” he told a young lady at the front entrance. She glanced at her reservation book and nodded, picking up two menus and walking them to a table. Jaycee seemed a bit nervous. It occurred to him that he hadn’t gotten to know much about her during their first date. He wondered if she was used to places like this, as she seemed a bit like a fish out of water.
“Does this look okay?” he asked as they were seated.
He had picked the table purposely when he called to make reservations. It was in a smaller section away from the main part of the restaurant. There were only four tables in the alcove where it sat, and he’d reserved them all to keep them empty so they could talk freely.
“Oh, yes. Sure.”
“Because the Omega Ouzeria is just down the block if you think you’d fit in better there,” he said with a slow smile, unable to resist the bit of name play on the Greek tavern nearby. He had considered taking her there for drinks and finger foods, something a bit less formal, but decided it might send the wrong message.
“Very funny.” She turned her attention to her surroundings. “This is very nice.”
She seemed to lighten up as the conversation turned toward her and her pack. Turned out, she was from a very different lifestyle, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Most packs weren’t into corporate wealth. They lived much simpler lives with fewer restraints on their natural instincts and traditions. They were bikers, creatives, or farmers - anything that allowed them to live on the fringe of society without being too much a part of it.
“It must be very different for you here,” he remarked.
“Yes, but that is why I came here. I don’t want to spend my life as a farmer or as an Omega raising litter after litter of pups.”
“So, you don’t have any desire to settle down?”
“Not right now. Maybe someday, but I’ve got plenty of time for that later. I want to be successful at more than just motherhood.”
“I see,” he said.
He felt a bit dejected by it. She might be young, but he wasn’t, and she was his natural mate. There was zero possibility of finding what they share with someone else and slim chance of finding something at least compatible enough to live a happy life. Then again, it was a physical reaction and how compatible were they if they couldn’t get along outside a monthly mating session?
“I don’t think you do, but that’s okay too.”
“No. I get it. You just want the same thing from life that Alphas enjoy as a matter of course. Your status in life was determined the moment you were born based on your genetic makeup. Alphas take it for granted. You have to work for it . . . and deny who you are.”
“Deny who I am?”
“Yes. I understand what it is you want, but you were born to do something else. It’s a bit of a paradox, isn’t it?”
“Maybe.”
He knew immediately that it had been a poor choice of words. It killed all conversation, leading to nothing more than minimal responses on her part to his attempts to reignite the conversation. Date one, disaster. Incredibly hot and life-altering disaster. Date two, kiss of death.