Page 156 of Knot Their Starlet

My hand clenches around the strap of my bag.

“Beckham, Elijah, this is Cameron Foster, the journalist,” Everett says, ushering me further into the apartment.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” I say, nodding to each of them. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

“Ah, I forgot to mention,” Everett says, sliding a single hand into the pocket of his dark slacks. “There is one condition before we finalize this working relationship.”

“Yes?” I answer, biting the inside of my cheek. I sound way too eager. I should play it cool.

“Apologize to Andi.”

The demand has me stiffening.

Now that I’m closer to the living room section of the open concept space, I can see that I was certainly right about Andromeda looking like she’s been crying. Another wave of irritation flashes through me when her eyes go wide at Everett.

Why is she acting naïve? She probably orchestrated this. Of course, an omega like her would pull something like this.

The gazes of all four of the men in the room threaten to crush me the longer I hesitate.

Do I want to lose my job? No.

“I’m... sorry,” I say, my voice tense. “For my behavior last night.”

Her dark gaze cuts to me and she scoffs.

“I don’t need your apologies if you don’t believe a word you’re saying. You obviously think you know me, that you’ve got me all figured out.”

I bite back a sharp retort. Bad idea, while she is surrounded by her guard dogs. It’s strange, Andromeda seems to be the center of all four men in here, including Beck, despite him also being an omega. I know she has an existing relationship with Leo, but is she possibly entertaining the affections of all four?

There’s a fierce intensity in her gaze that catches me off guard. She seems... different from last night, and not only because she’s sober.

“Then I guess I’ll have to see how you’re different. It sounds like all of us will be spending a lot of time together,” I shift my gaze from hers to meet Everett’s meaningfully.

I guess they intend on me working on something Andromeda-related as well?

I love my job. I love my job. I love my fucking job.

I can suck that up if I get this opportunity with Beckham.

Her brows draw up in surprise.

See, Sweet Tea? I can be professional.

Sweet tea?

I’m going insane.

The sleep deprivation from being out so late last night is getting to me.

Why am I thinking of this snobby, spoiled omega, who has all these men wrapped around her pinky finger and willing to do whatever she wants, by a cute nickname?

I don’t even like her.

“Fine,” Andromeda says, her shoulder slumping forward when she realizes the rest of the men are waiting for her response.

She picks at the hem of the massive t-shirt she’s wearing. It’s obviously not hers. Considering the size, I assume it belongs to the giant hovering behind her like a concerned mother goose.

Speaking of Mother Goose, Elijah grabs a fuzzy throw blanket from the back of the couch and drops it over her head.