Working for the Alpha

2.Serissa

Serissa

“Miss?” I looked up to see a god looming over me. He was as big and intimidating as the men whose presence had begun the events that led me to my current state of dishevelment, but kind grey eyes were looking at me with genuine concern. His tanned skin could have been carved from stone, but his blonde hair was slightly shaggy, making me think of a surfer on some far away beach. Call me crazy, but I swore I could even smell the slightly salty air of the ocean. “Are you ok?” he asked, holding out a hand to help me onto the sidewalk.

“I… umm… yeah… I just… It was… I’m ok,” I stumbled over my words in a fairly good impression of myself when I was thirteen and horrifically shy around boys. I took the stranger’s hand, however, and was grateful for his support as I stepped up onto the sidewalk and winced as I tried to put weight on my injured leg.

“You’re bleeding,” he observed. “I would say that’s not really ok.”

“It’s just a little scratch,” I shrugged. “I’ll heal.”

“Hmmm…” he frowned, his eyebrows drawing together as he considered me. “Come on, my office isn’t far from here. You can get cleaned up and put some ice on that ankle that’s starting to swell.”

“I really don’t want to be a bother,” I quickly shook my head and tried to step away from him, forgetting entirely that I was still perched on the edge of the sidewalk. If it wasn’t for his quick reflexes as he grabbed my arm and hauled me forward again, I definitely would have fallen for a second time.

“You can either lean on me to walk to the office, or I can carry you,” he smiled, revealing a dimple in his right cheek.

Maybe it was the dimple that pushed me over the edge. Working in a bar, I’ve pretty much seen it all, and I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I didn’t know this man’s name, and yet something told me I could trust him.

“Yeah, I think I can walk,” I smiled sheepishly at my rescuer as I did my best not to clutch at his arm while I took my first tentative steps. It was sore, but not unbearable, and we began to make our slow progress towards his office.

“I’m Colin, by the way,” my new friend told me.

“Serissa,” I replied, slightly dazzled at the way the crowd parted in front of us. I noticed a few people glance at Colin with what could only be called respect, but I shook it off. Someone as gorgeous as him must be used to the attention because he seemed completely oblivious.

As for me, I was more focused on not hurting myself even more than on looking where we were going, so I was shocked when he steered us into the lobby of Crescent, Inc. “Wait, this is your office?”

Colin glanced down at me. “Yes, is that a problem?” he asked with a small smile.

“No, I just…” What could I possibly say? It was entirely possible that he was the person I was supposed to be interviewing with. How could I explain that without looking like an i***t?

The blast of cold, dry air from the air-conditioned lobby was a welcome relief from the humid outside air. My mouth gaped as I took in the opulence surrounding me. Everything was slick and modern, with gleaming stainless steel, high windows, and dark, masculine colors. Two men who were obviously guards stood as Colin ushered me past their desk. Both seemed to bow their heads, a gesture he acknowledged quietly with a slight nod of his own.

“The elevators are just over here,” he told me, guiding me to the left of the large space.

Even the elevator was magnificent. About the same size as my bathroom, it had mirrored walls and dark wood paneling. I took a deep breath, trying in vain to control my overreaction to obvious wealth. I knew how successful Crescent, Inc. was, it's why I applied for the position. I should have realized the owners would be used to being surrounded by the finest money could buy.

The elevator's movement was so smooth I barely registered we were moving at all, so I was surprised when it slowed to a stop on the 31st floor so quickly. Colin held his hand out, “This is our first stop.”

“First stop?” I inquired, stepping out of the elevator and gazing around me in wonder. I'd never seen an office that was so elegant before in my life.

“I didn't grow up with this stuff either,” Colin whispered conspiratorially, making me snap my mouth shut as I realized it was hanging open again. “You get used to it after a while. Sort of.”

I wasn't sure if I believed him or not, but luckily, he turned his attention to the receptionist who was staring at me like something the cat dragged in. “Good morning, Becca,” he beamed at her, his dimple popping in his cheek again. “Is the beast in yet?”

Sex crackled in the air as the pretty red head at the front desk turned her green eyes onto Colin. I felt a little dirty witnessing the way her eyes swept over him, lingering for a moment just below his waist before sliding up his torso. She licked her plump lips seductively, and gave him a feline grin. “Oh yeah, he’s been here for a while. Not happy, either.”

“When is he ever happy first thing in the morning?” Colin laughed good-naturedly.

“It's worse than normal,” the receptionist said with a shrug. “His nine o'clock didn't show up.”

“Ahh...” Colin nodded his understanding before glancing at me with a curious expression. I avoided meeting his eyes, feeling guilty for putting his boss in a bad mood. “Can you let him know I'm in and need to talk to him? I just need a few minutes first,” he added, motioning to me. If looks could kill, I would have been incinerated on the spot with the heat that was in Becca's eyes as she glared at me in contempt. Either Colin didn't notice or chose to ignore it, because he placed his hand on my back, and marched me past her desk towards another elevator, inserted an access card, and pushed the button for the 40th floor.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding as the doors swished shut, hiding the malevolent look Becca was still sending my way, and sagged slightly against the strong arm still helping me to stay upright.

“So, what brings you to the city today?” Colin asked, making me jump slightly in surprise.

“Oh! Umm..” Now was the moment of truth. Did I try to lie? Did I tell him it was my fault his boss was grumpy? I looked up into his eyes that were watching me closely and blew out a sigh. I couldn't lie to this man. “Actually, I was the nine o'clock that didn't show up,” I said quietly, shame lacing my words.

“Hmm... interesting,” Colin mused, his smile broadening. “Well, it's not like it was your fault. I'll tell you what, while you're cleaning up in my office, I'll go over and explain to Van why you're late. He's got a reputation for being a hard ass, but he's actually very understanding.”

“Oh! Thank you,” I started. “But, I really don't want you to go to any trouble over me!”

“It's no trouble at all,” he chuckled. “Van is a pain in the a.ss without an assistant, and I have a feeling about you.”

“You do?” it was practically a squeak, but all I got in response was a wink as the doors opened and Colin led me out of the elevator and to the right down a corridor.

The office was just as slick and modern as the rest of the building with muted gray walls and a lightly patterned carpet. Modern art hung on the walls and there were a few Japanese style flower arrangements on tables set into alcoves. If the lobby had given a feeling of wealth, this level added an overwhelming sense of power and confidence.

Colin walked us to the end of the hall and turned to the right, towards a door with the label: Colin Reed, Beta. My eyes drifted to the door across the hall labeled: Donovan Rush, Alpha, and my heart leaped into my throat. I felt a cold sweat come on, and my feet didn't want to budge. I stood riveted to the spot, my eyes glued to the name on the door.

“Serissa?” Colin's gentle voice pulled me out of my reverie for the second time that morning, and I blushed furiously as I turned my attention back to him. His eyes seemed to laugh at me, but his smile was still friendly as he ushered me inside the office.

His office was very much like the corridor, with the addition of huge windows that overlooked the city below. There were shelves lined with folders, and a large desk that had several organizers with papers neatly stacked. His attitude and appearance may have said “laid-back surfer,” but his office screamed of a highly efficient professional.

“The washroom is over here,” he said, guiding me to a door. The room was like a spa in the fanciest hotel I could imagine. Soft lighting illuminated the space that was bigger than my apartment. Everywhere I looked was white marble and gleaming silver. In addition to the sink and floor to ceiling mirror, there was a walk-in shower that could probably fit ten people and still not be jammed full. “Use whatever you like, I'll be back in a few minutes.”

I turned to ask if he was serious, but he was already closing the door behind him. I felt like my presence alone was making this impossibly elegant room dirtier, but I'd already made Mr. Rush wait for me once today, I wasn't about to ruin my second chance by dilly-dallying. I quickly peeled my destroyed pantyhose off and discarded them in the bin. There were no paper towels, so I grabbed a dark gray washcloth and wet it, gently mopping up the blood and dirt from my leg. There wasn't much I could do about the stain on my dress, though. I wasn't even sure I would be able to wash it out in the laundry. Eventually, I worked up the courage to look at myself in the mirror and nearly fainted on the spot.

I've looked worse. Once, not long after I turned 21 and had a crazy night out with my best friend, I got so drunk that I ended up falling over a barrier and sliding down an embankment on my ass until I crashed into a thorny bush. I was bruised and cut up, my hair full of twigs, and my make-up was running down my face.

This was a close second, though.

I used a clean corner of the washcloth to wipe my face clean, and quickly dug my make-up out of my bag, hastily trying to fix the mess. My hair was beyond hope, however. I tried putting some water on it, but that just made it worse. I tried braiding it, but it was too poofy and tangled to hold the braid. I had to admit defeat when there was a soft knock on the door and Colin called out, asking if I was ready.

“As ready as I'll ever be,” I mumbled, giving myself one last quick assessment in the mirror. It could be worse, I thought to myself. I wasn't sure how it could be worse, but I had to face Donovan Rush whether I felt ready or not.