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Twice.
But still.
It doesn’t make sense to me until I search the team and pull up their Wikipedia page.
Oh.
The Orlando Ospreys were sold in 2021 to billionaire magnate, Ronan Ash. His all-alpha pack, the Ash pack, also includes the team’s star quarterback, Declan Howard; Pro Bowl tight end, Theo Matthews; and the Ospreys’ lead physician, Dr. Archer Monroe. Their pack resides in the Orlando area at an undisclosed address.
The page doesn’t have a photo of the pack, but it does go on about the team itself, listing their past players, current standings, and a jumble of statistics I don’t understand.
I really don’t know anything about the game… except the quarterback is the star.
Evidently.
After an hour of research, though, other things start to take shape. The National League kicks off within a week and the Ospreys will play their first game of the season on Sunday. That’s a tight turnaround time for whoever they hire, considering it’s already Monday afternoon. They must be desperate to fill the social media role, which is perfect for my current situation.
Besides, they clearly need help. I don’t have to be a sports expert to know that their feeds are cluttered, their branding needs a refresh, and their recent press is all negative.
There are pages and pages of articles about Declan Howard’s “fumbling” performance last year. A poor season that came off the heels of a National Championship loss and a scandalous break-up with some woman named Katrina. I scroll through the pictures, but there aren’t very many of them together, and I get bored after the fifteenth snap of her pouting at the camera.
It doesn’t matter for my work anyway, I decide, since he’s clearly working the whole single-athlete-sex-symbol thing these days.
Besides, if I had my way, he won’t even be the star of the social media anymore. The rest of the Ash pack seems non-existent as far as Google is concerned, aside from Ronan Ash’s charitable foundation and few select snaps of the dark-haired, scowling alpha winning philanthropic awards.
Yeesh. We’ll have to work on smiling for the camera…
Despite the mixed press, I have plenty of ideas for the Ospreys. They need to re-brand and start fresh to shake off whatever funk dragged them down last year. They also need to get into the twenty-twenties and get on TikTok.
I already have some choice influencers in mind for partnership deals. Plus, a locker room full of football hotties sounds like prime material for viral videos.
Riding my first burst of true excitement in weeks, I fill out the whole application and carefully re-check my résumé before scrolling down to all the legal jargon slapped above the place for my e-signature.
And there it is. An omega disclaimer.
The thick, carefully-worded paragraph basically says unbonded omegas cannot be admitted to their facility “for their own safety.” Something about the number of unbonded alphas who work on and for the team… and the League’s rules prohibiting players from taking rut-blockers or any other hormones.
Which essentially means that one whiff of my perfume at the wrong moment would likely cause The Incident Part Two: The Ospreys’ Omega Chew Toy.
A flutter of pure anxiety stretches through my abdomen while the rest of my body betrays me, reacting instinctively to the thought of throwing an unbonded, pro-athlete alpha into rut. My nipples tighten. The crotch of my panties grows damp.
So… I guess whichever lawyer drafted their disclaimer may have had a point.
But I’m so sick of my designation ruining my life. I’m tired of feeling weak and silly and fragile.
I know I can do this job. If I could just show them I have what it takes…
Besides, even if it turns out that the position or the environment really isn’t for me, I’m fast running out of other options. I need health insurance, and I need it, like, yesterday.
My teeth sink into my lower lip while I stare at the clause, debating.
If I could somehow get the job just long enough to get healthcare, I could ask my doctor for a six-month supply of suppressants. That would get me through my upcoming heat and buy me time to prove I can do this job. Or get a different job where I wouldn’t have to lie and hide my designation.
Can I even hide it?
I’ve heard stories. There are lots of omega blogs that list extra measures we can take to keep our pheromones to ourselves. Another hour of research convinces me that my plan might just be crazy enough to work. The more I read, the riskier and more complicated it seems. But doable.
At the end of the day, do I even have a choice? My WorkNow inbox is still empty, apart from this one position.
