Playing You (Omega's Luck #3) - Claire Cullen

Chapter One

Brendan ushered the last candidate out the door, holding back a sigh of frustration. He returned to his desk and flicked fruitlessly through the pile of resumes. With a growl of frustration, he picked the whole lot up and dumped them into the shredder, feeling a sense of satisfaction as they were torn to pieces.

“Not fit to make a cup of coffee,” he grumbled, gathering up the bag of torn paper to take down to the recycling.

He’d had a part-time assistant last year, a beta in the middle of a college degree who’d preferred helping him out to waiting tables. When Alan could no longer balance work and college, Brendan had been sad to see him go. This was his second attempt to recruit a replacement, and a full-time one at that. The position paid well, though it did require the assistant to put up with him and his way of doing things. The fact that most of those who applied couldn’t even type said a lot about the expectations of the city’s youth these days.

Brendan took the stairs to the first floor and stepped out of the back of the office building, making his way to the recycling bin. Just before he turned the corner, he heard a voice speaking hurriedly and with no small amount of fear.

“Philip, please. I know you’re angry, but none of it’s true. I never touched him. Never let him touch me. I’m yours, you know I am.”

Brendan paused, listening intently to the argument, resigned to avoiding any interruption while he let the couple’s drama play out. He didn’t hear any response, but the voice spoke again. This time, he was pleading.

“No, Philip. I’d never. You’ve got to believe me. They’re lying. They’ve always hated us together. Can’t you see that they’re trying to break us apart? He kissed me, and I pushed him away…”

Brendan swallowed. Uh-oh. He did not see this playing out nicely. No alpha—and it had to be an alpha this man was talking to—would react well to the admission that their love had been kissed by another.

“Philip, no!”

At the man’s strangled cry of fear, Brendan leaped around the corner, ready to act. An omega stood there, facing him, one arm thrown up as if to protect his face. Otherwise, the alleyway was empty.

The stranger looked as shocked as Brendan, stumbling back a step as he let his arm fall.

“Who are you talking to?” Brendan couldn’t see any sign of a phone, let alone another person.

“Um, no one.”

The omega took another step backward, eying him warily.

“You know, talking to yourself is generally considered a bad sign,” he commented, taking a wide berth around the omega as he emptied his bag of recycling into the appropriate trash can.

“I wasn’t talking to myself,” the omega muttered.

As he turned back around, Brendan caught sight of a bag resting on the ground. There were a few stapled pages balanced on top.

“Then what are you doing?”

He already had a fairly good idea. The whole fourth floor of his building had been taken over for the morning by a theater company holding auditions. More than once, Brendan had wondered if the betas he’d been interviewing had taken a wrong turn.

“Just running some lines for the audition.” The omega’s cheeks turned pink, and he avoided Brendan’s eyes.

“The ones going on upstairs?” He jerked his head back toward the building.

“Yeah.”

“I think they’re done for the day. Closed up shop and headed out about twenty minutes ago.”

The man did look at him then, letting out a startled cry of dismay. “But they told me to come back at two.”

Brendan glanced at his watch. It was one-thirty.

“I guess they found what they were looking for already.”

The omega looked away again, but not before Brendan caught sight of tears glistening in his eyes. Damn it. If there was anything he hated, it was being around crying people.

“Maybe they’re coming back,” he tried to suggest. In his experience, once they packed up for the day, that was it.

“I guess there’s no harm in checking,” the omega said with a sigh. He grabbed his bag and turned toward the front of the building.

“The reception will be closed until two. Come on, I’ll let you in the back. If the signs are gone, we’ll know they’ve cleared out.”

The omega hefted his bag onto his shoulder and reluctantly followed Brendan around to the back entrance. As Brendan stepped inside, he glanced back in time to see the man stretch out a hand to catch the door.