His Manny Omega Read online

  The room shook as the booming of thunder shook the air. So maybe it was a storm a brewing and not change, but I could feel something. My life was about to take a turn and I could only hope it was for the better.

  “I wanna go on the slide.” Silly Suzy, that was always her plea. Rain. Sleet. Snow. It didn’t matter. Ever since she and her mom got here three months ago it had been the same. She wanted the slide, weather be damned.

  “Suzy, let’s go look out the window.” I stood and offered her my hand, which she grabbed as she bounced along as we got to the window. “What do you see?”

  “A slide.” She pointed to her favorite of the three slides we had.

  “And what is all over the slide?” Lightning struck in the distance, lighting up the playground. The staff was busy distracting the other children from it with playdough and huge cardboard blocks and Suzy was still holding onto the idea of going outside on the slide.

  “Rain.” Her little hand dropping mine as her fists settled on her hip. She knew this where this was going even though she was strong willed enough I knew we weren’t quite done.

  “So does today look like a good day to use the slide?”

  “Yes!” she shouted before motioning with her hands how her journey down the slide would go. “I goes fast when it wet.”

  “I’m not sure you would go fast.” I motioned her journey down the slide in the same way she had only with a bit more science thrown in. Her legs would get caught on that slide, not to mention her chance at getting hurt by a fallen branch, of which there were plenty. “I think your legs would stick to it.” I scrunched up my nose, in the way that she did while thinking.

  “I wanna go fast,” she conceded.

  “Then maybe we should go tomorrow when it is supposed to be sunny?”

  “Oliver. I wanna play playdough.”

  “That sounds like a fabulous plan.” I pointed to my co-worker who was working at getting out playdough accessories for the group of kids following her around like the pied piper. Playdough held a magic for this particular group of kids. “Go ahead. Mary is already getting it out for some others. Let her know you want to play too.”

  “Love you, Oliver.” She squeezed me tight. Poor Suzy was tested before it was legal and found to be an omega. That led to all kinds of badness I couldn’t stomach enough to finish reading and now she was thirsty for love. It was just her luck that Omega House was filled with it. I was grateful her mom, also an omega, had found the strength to escape to here.

  “And I love you.” I hugged her back before shooing her to her next activity. “Now off to play. I have to go do grown-up papers.”

  “Yuck. I’m glad I’m a kid.” She made her way to gather all of the purple she could get her little hands on.

  I made my way to the office, ready to fill out the state required health report for the week and add up the time sheets. I tried to convince Marge more than once that we could be more efficient not using pen and paper to record our hours, but she assured me this was just as good. That was because I did all the calculating, but that was fine. I loved my job, even the paperwork. Okay, more despite the paperwork.

  Working at Omega House had been fulfilling in a way I still had yet to process. I was helping omegas, kids, and co-workers, fostering a climate that was structured and loving. My gut told me it was time to move on, though. I kept pushing the feeling down, but it was true. I either had to move on or be stuck here.

  Stuck here was a crappy word, yet oddly accurate. I was so emotionally invested in this place that if I stayed any longer, I’d never leave. I probably felt like this partly because I chose to use my money to go back to school online instead of getting an apartment. I had a few more classes and I could officially take on some bookkeeping clients. Initially, I pursued it to try and help Omega House and possibly earn a bit more responsibility. But honestly, Naheed, the financial guru here, knew what he was doing and had all the help he needed and I knew that. I was looking for a Plan B, since Plan A, being a stay at home omega was a bust.

  It had been a few years since the harsh reality I’d never be a biological father hit me. At the time, I thought it was the end of the world. Now? Now it still hurt, but I could see another future. One where I owned a small bookkeeping business and possibly found a mate, one who was okay with their fur babies being their only babies. Or maybe I would be lucky and find a mate who wanted to foster to adopt one of the young omegas in need of a home. None of that was going to happen here, though. Two more semesters and I would need to move on.

  The bittersweet feeling of the decisions I would eventually have to make washed over me as I settled into the desk and began adding up the hours we all worked. Poor Mary was the sweetest thing, but she had no idea how to add up time, constantly putting twenty minutes as point two and losing far too much time in the mix. Time sheets done, I grabbed the to-do pile of paperwork Marge left for me. Usually it was filing, but sometimes it was running errands or getting ready for an inspection by cleaning something obscure. Today, however, sitting right on top was an inquiry for a live-in manny that must’ve been misdelivered here instead of the occupational readiness director.

  Looking for a live-in manny to care for one three-year-old girl in Greenfield. Father is a veterinarian with unusual and unpredictable hours and mother is deceased.

  Hmm…was this the sign I was looking for?

  4

  Wyatt

  My shoulders were even tighter with stress when I left the second agency than when I had arrived in the city that morning. Both agencies had seemed professional enough, with great qualifications, but they had no one on their books currently looking or willing to take on a live-in position. They said they would keep the listing open on their internal job boards, but they had no idea of knowing when they might find someone interested.

  I turned my phone off airplane mode and notifications started pinging. I scanned through them, dismissing the irrelevant ones, and stopped on a text from Abrar. My hopes lifted. Maybe he'd had better luck than I had?

  May have some options. Naheed says stop by Omega House before you leave town.

  My breath whooshed out of me in a sigh of relief. Granted, there was no certainty that Naheed would have someone who would work out, but just having another possibility helped ease my mind. I sent Abrar a quick thanks before I reached my car, then placed a quick call to Helen to make sure she'd be okay with Chloe if I came back a little later than I expected.

  Omega House was a lot bigger than I remembered, though much of it was hidden behind the rain. I tried to think of when I had last visited... More than three years ago, because the last time I remembered coming here, Jen was with me. I felt the familiar pang that popped up when I did something without Jen for the first time. It happened much less often now, and the pain was no longer crippling. I missed her. I would never stop missing her. But I knew she would have some choice words to say if I allowed my grief to paralyze me.

  The front door was easy to find, but once inside, I was lost. There was a receptionist and behind her, a beefy looking security guard. He analyzed me as I approached. I must not have set off any of his internal alarms, because he continued to watch me with continued neutral alertness.

  "I'm here about a job..."

  "Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked.

  "Uh, I don't know. Abrar Patel sent me. His brother-in-law Naheed said to stop by."

  "What's your name, hon?"

  "Wyatt Stanley."

  She flipped through a couple sheets of paper. "Yep, you're on the list. Just go through these doors, take the second left, go through the cafeteria to the exit on the right, and a right out of there."

  "Thanks."

  I was taking the second left when I realized I didn't know who exactly I was looking for. Was I looking for Naheed? I guessed it would be obvious once I got there. Wherever there was.

  The place had definitely changed since I was last here. The walls were covered in murals and I stopped to read
several of the plaques describing them. I was surprised to learn that every mural was created by a resident. I had assumed from their complexity and intensity that a local painter had donated their time. After reading several all the way through, I realized I needed to get my feet moving or I'd be even later than I had promised Helen.

  I passed through the cafeteria, which was nearly empty, but I did draw a few curious eyes. I could hear the voices, bangs, and swishes of a busy kitchen. They must’ve been preparing for dinner.

  Then I was through the exit to the right and...damn it. Was I supposed to go left or right? Damn it. You'd think I'd have been able to keep the directions straight. It wasn't like they'd been particularly complicated. If I'd come straight here instead of dawdling over the murals, maybe I wouldn't have forgotten.

  I went left.

  I seemed to be in an administration wing, so I was probably in the right area. If I just knew what I was looking for. I checked my watch. It was quarter after four. I'd known when I'd headed this way that there was no chance I would miss rush hour, which had added weight to an already stressful day, and my current confusion didn't help at all. I wandered slowly, checking all of the office labels. Medical personnel only. Overflow linen closet. Assistant financial director. That one seemed promising. Whoever that was, they had to work with Naheed. I knocked on the door, and when I received no answer, I tried the handle. Locked. Well, it had been worth a shot.

  I kept walking until I heard voices. Finally, someone who could help me. They came from behind a door labeled The Birch Room. I knocked tentatively and then poked my head in. Seven people sat around a conference table, and they all turned to look at me.

  "Can I help you?" an older woman asked. She had a no-nonsense air about her, from the timbre of her voice to the tilt of her head.

  "Ah, yes. I'm looking for Naheed Shah. Or well, I think I am. His brother-in-law Abrar sent me. I mentioned I'm looking to hire a nanny and they said to stop by. Oh, my name is Wyatt Stanley."

  The woman's eyes sparked and she stood. "If you'll excuse me for just a few minutes, everyone. Feel free to continue, I'll catch back up."

  I stepped back and she closed the door behind her.

  "I hope I didn't interrupt anything important..." I said.

  She waved my concern away. "Our weekly department meeting. Trish can handle it until I get back. Wyatt, you said your name was? I'm Marge." She stuck her hand out and I shook it. "Do you mind waiting for a few minutes? I'm not the person you need to talk to, but I can get them shortly."

  "That's absolutely fine."

  She took me down another hall and opened an office door. I didn't get a chance to see its label before she ushered me in to sit. The room was fairly bland, with a couple of bookshelves, small filing cabinets, a desk and two chairs against the door with the wall. "It won't be but just a moment," she assured me.

  "Thank you."

  She closed the door behind me. My knees bounced while I waited, a nervous habit of mine. If I could get this nanny situation settled before I went home tonight, it would solve a lot of my stress. I forced myself to take a couple deep breaths and took a seat against the wall.

  5

  Oliver

  “Oliver?”

  I tried not to sigh and Marge called after me. I had barely left the office and was quite ready for some down time. There were many things I loved about my job, the state paperwork and reporting we did each week wasn’t one of them.

  “Yes, Marge.” I stopped, contorting my body in her direction without the full commitment of facing her completely. I just wanted to get a shower and figure out what I was going to do about the job posting I saw. It was probably meant to be for omega residents, not the staff, but it was intriguing, and it called to me.

  “What did you think?” She had that look in her eye she only held when she was up to something.

  “About?”

  “About the posting I left for you.”

  I closed my eyes. My head buzzed with all the why’s. “For me?” I gave up my odd twisted position and turned to face her fully. She rewarded me with her “I won” smile.

  “Yes. The live-in manny job.”

  “You left that for me?” Never once had it crossed my mind she planted it there. I had assumed it had been misdelivered. I loved Marge, I really did, but sometimes she needed to be less clever and more blunt.

  “Yes.” She nodded before leaning against the wall. Looked like our conversation had just begun. “What did you think?”

  “That it was pretty perfect and if I didn’t have a job I’d jump at it.” It sounded ideal in so many ways. The pay was better than here, meals were included, as was housing, and the hours were odd, but not unbearable.

  “Consider yourself fired then.”

  I raked my hand through my hair trying to figure out if she was serious or not. With Marge, it could go either way.

  “On what grounds?” I copied her stance against the wall, feeling out if she was teasing.

  “On the grounds that this is the perfect opportunity for you to get out of here before the emotional toll wears you down to nothing.” She winked at me with a sad smile, so teasing, yet truthful in an odd way. Ugh. As if wanting a job and having it actually work out were the same thing. Just then, her eyes shifted and I saw something she rarely let me see. She was tired. Not tired in the sense she stayed up too late, but the bone tired you get when are about to burn out.

  “You?” I lowered my voice, the conversation suddenly feeling a bit too personal for the hallway.

  “Yes, me,” she confided before standing tall and slapping on her “everything is awesome” face. “And my friend’s husband tells me he is a perfect fit for you.”

  He is a perfect fit for me. That sounded like more than just you would do a good job. I would have to shake her down for information later if I interviewed and if I was offered a job.

  “But your friend’s husband doesn’t know me.” All of a sudden this felt more like a blind date than a conversation about a job.

  “No, but I do and we chatted and decided to make sure you at least got a chance to feel each other out.”

  I bit my tongue at her overstep. I had learned a long time ago that anytime she overstepped with an employee, which was far too often in my opinion, she always did it with the best of intentions. She loved us all and, in her way, she was helping. Who knew, maybe this time she actually was.

  “And if the interview is awful and I hate him and everything about the position?” I doubted she was actually firing me, but I needed to be sure. And keeping her on her toes was always fun.

  “Then you will be rehired.” She looked at me in disbelief as if I was completely oblivious. “Out of curiosity, what could possibly be so horrible about the position that would cause you to turn it down?”

  “Snakes.” It wasn’t a lie. “He could live in a house of snakes. He’s a vet, after all.”

  “Go.” She shooed me in the direction she’d just come from. “He’s in the daycare office. Get yourself a job.”

  There was no use arguing even if I wanted to. Marge was right, I was on the cusp of being here too long for my own wellbeing. A nanny position would allow me to finish my classes, still do what I loved, and in this case, get away from the city. I was ready for fresh air and no rush hour traffic.

  I wasn’t sure if I should knock or walk in and opted for number two, since, technically, it was sort of my office. If he got caught picking his nose, that was on him. “Hello?” I made my way in, taking my place behind the desk, my hand extended. “I’m Oliver.”

  It was a power play and I knew it, but some alphas only respected power. From the strength of his scent, he was all alpha. I needed to make sure he wasn’t going to be an asshat when I needed to make decisions as his child’s caretaker. His scent was not only strong, but very enticing. All cedar and coffee, like a morning cup on the porch of a cabin in the mountains. Too enticing. I needed to dampen my reaction to him, and quick. No one was going to hir
e a nanny who got a hard on every time they were in the same room as you, and I already had a semi. Freaking great.

  “Hello, I’m Wyatt Stanley.” He shook my hand, the warmth of his skin feeling too good. I immediately sat down, needing to conceal my biological reaction to his scent. It had to be only that, and not the wavy hair and dimple in his left cheek. “I’m waiting for Marge.”

  “Marge sent me in to see you.” He leaned back in his chair in his own power play. Not in your face, but letting me know he was a strong alpha and wouldn’t be frazzled by the likes of me, an omega, trying to take control. And then my mind strayed to other places where that power play would be fun. Maybe Marge was wrong. Maybe I was best working here, away from the sexy alpha.

  “About the nanny position?” He feigned disinterest, yet I watched him soak in my reaction.

  “Yes. She thought I might be interested in it.” And I am, I wanted to shout, but was determined to play it cool.

  “Are you a resident here?” My eyes must’ve shown my shock because he quickly added, “Not that that would... Never mind.”

  “No, it’s fine,” I reassured him. Honestly, it was a question I would have. As much as we help the omegas here, some of them come terribly broken and, depending on the situation, that could be extremely important information to know before trusting them with your small child. “I’m live-in staff. I work in the childcare department.”

  “I see… And you want to leave?” He seemed to grasp for a different question before settling on this one. Interesting.

  “Honestly, I’m torn. I love this place and all that it does. I love working with the kids. I love practically all of my job. I’m not going to lie, I could do without the administrative paperwork, but other than that I love it.” If I was going to completely uproot my life, it needed to be based on honesty and not an interview where I showed the side of me I wanted them to see.