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prologue
You know those moments when the stars align? Where the universe is good, the world is generous, and everything just works out perfectly?
Yeah, me neither.
“I’m sorry, Miss Reed, but we’re going to have to terminate your employment. Effective immediately.”
The bald man sitting across from me has a bumpy head and a sour expression. With his face bathed in the yellow light reflecting off of my employment file, he sort of looks like a lemon. I focus on that to keep from bursting into tears.
Again.
“But my?—”
Lemon Head interrupts, his thin eyebrows bunching. “You know the rules for your kind. The two-year trial period is still in effect. Therefore, the company is within its rights to terminate your employment without severance or any benefit extension.”
Oh boy.
Here it comes.
I do everything to choke down the sob scaling the back of my tongue, but I can’t keep the tears at bay and keep my lunch in my stomach, so I settle for the latter.
I’m already the girl who ruined the entire executive floor. I can’t barf all over HR, too.
Seeing my tears, the middle-aged, middle-management man sighs. As if he’s the one losing his salary and healthcare. “It’s a shame that you had to endure all of this,” he mutters, looking away. “Back in my day, you wouldn’t have been allowed in the office. This is exactly why.”
I don’t need the lecture. I could present it myself, at this point.
Omegas are too fragile to handle the stress of a career.
Omegas are too sensitive to handle constructive criticism.
Omegas need too much time off for their heats.
And then they want time off for maternity leave, too?
I know, I know. The audacity of keeping the species alive. How dare we?
Still, I thought I’d proven the nay-sayers wrong once and for all when I finished my Master’s degree and started working for the only marketing firm in the whole state that would hire an unbonded omega. But even here, at this “progressive” company, it only took eighteen months for me to become a pariah.
As if this whole thing is my fault.
My innocence only makes me cry harder.
How did this happen? I did everything right. I did everything they told me to do.
Lemon Head tosses a pointed look at the door, dismissing me. And I want to go. At that moment, I want nothing more than to get out of there and hide in my bed for all eternity.
But I have to force myself to sit up and sniff back my tears. “I need my last paycheck,” I tell him, hating how my voice wobbles. “I’m owed for two weeks.”
I’ll need that money. I’m already living paycheck-to-paycheck. Without this steady income, and the health insurance…
The thought of not having anything to fall back on finally sinks in. I can’t quite strangle the whine that builds in my chest.
The beta rolls his eyes and scoffs, going back to his paperwork with a flick of his hand. “Call payroll. That’s their problem.”
The girl my mother raised would tell this guy to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.
Unfortunately, I’ve never actually been that girl.
