The Wrong Bond

10

ARLENE

A

fter binge-watching five episodes of One Percent Love last night and cozying up in bed with Coral, I found myself lost in thought about the text Leah had sent me. Now, back at work, my overthinking had only intensified.

I glanced up from the glasses I was absentmindedly arranging upside-down to dry. My hands worked in very quick motions, and the low hum of the bar was quiet compared to the whirlpool of anxiety inside me.

I’d left Leah multiple texts since last night, asking her to give me a hint, at least, but it was very obvious that she enjoyed watching me panic. And I wasn’t just panicking; I was almost losing my mind.

But still, it had ignited a glimmer of hope in my otherwise very gray financial life. Leah was smart most of the time, and I knew she was doing her best to help me.

Just as I was about to grab my phone and text Leah, she burst through the bar doors, her cheeks flushed and her blonde hair all over the place from running. She was always in a hurry, and tonight was no exception.

“You look like you just ran a marathon,” I said to her as she practically collapsed onto the barstool in front of me.

“I had a date, and then I kept getting your texts.” She paused to catch her breath. “Also, you need to calm down with the texting, Ally. I have a life.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “You can’t text me something that urgent and then expect me to relax.”

“Fair enough,” she responded, tossing her designer handbag onto the bar with dramatic flair. “I’m done with your taxes, finally!”

I batted my eyelashes at her. “Oh, what would I do without you?”

“Absolutely nothing!”

“It’s almost the end of my shift, Leah. Spill the tea,” I demanded, my voice tight and impatient.

Leah, ever the dramatist, leaned back in her chair and tapped the bar with a perfectly manicured finger, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “First off,” she said, savoring the moment, “a drink, please, in exchange for information.”

“You’re just going to be a pain about this, aren’t you?”

She giggled. “Of course! I think my plan is brilliant, and you’ll have to work for it before you hear it!”

I rolled my eyes, but reached for a glass. “What will you be having then?” I asked, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice but failing miserably.

“Surprise me,” Leah said with a wink.

I mixed the drink quickly, my heart in my stomach. Leah knew how bad my finances were. Heck, she was the one who did my taxes, so she knew everything there was to know. And with Coral’s medical bills piling up, her upcoming surgery, and the hope that she’d get her own hospital room, I was swimming in debt.

Not to mention my late payments on almost all my bills.

Getting extra income that wasn’t dependent on the tips from the bar would go a long way, and I needed it with everything in me.

When I was done mixing, I poured the drink into the glass and added a mint leaf on top to appease Leah. I handed it to her and raised an eyebrow.

Leah took a sip, swirled the drink around in her mouth, and swallowed dramatically.

“Okay, so here’s the deal,” she began, leaning closer to me conspiratorially. “You know how my parents are trying to get into the clubs uptown so they can make connections and be considered part of the werewolf elite, right?”

“Yeah?” I said, and it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Leah’s parents had been trying to break into the uptown elite for what felt like forever. Even though they’d been wealthy for over twenty-five years, they were still seen as new money. It turned out that mingling with the uptown crowd was a lot trickier than they’d thought it would be.

“Well, they haven’t had any luck so far,” Leah started, twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her finger. “But my mom now has a couple of friends who are pretty close with the Eltons and⁠—”

I cut her off quickly. “Woah, woah. Where’s this going?”

She sighed and leaned forward again. “Okay, okay, I’ll get to the point. Remember when you were talking about Shawn the other day?”

“Yeah, for like two minutes.”

“I noticed a look in your eyes.”

I sighed, having an inkling where this was going. “I don’t like him.”

“You had that same look with Gerald Neeson back in college.”

“I was young and stupid, Leah. Can you stop bringing that up?” I groaned.

She shrugged, ignoring me. “That was the one time you looked like you genuinely cared about a guy, and I saw that same look in your eyes yesterday.”

I shook my head. “It was definitely the alcohol you laced my coffee with. It was freaking strong. I’ve barely known Shawn for a week, and we’re not even in the same league, Leah.”

“Nope, you like him. And you can be in denial all you want, but that’s not the point of all this.”

I felt my face heat up and quickly busied myself with wiping down the bar. “So what is?”

She took a sip of her cocktail for dramatic effect before she continued. “You don’t have to date him or anything, but you can use him to make some money. Shawn has a lot of mistresses, or so I’ve heard, and he is very generous with them. He clearly wants you for your body, so why not take advantage of it? No need to mention how sexy he is. There’s no harm done, and it’s a win-win situation.”

I stopped wiping and stared at her. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

I scoffed, clearly shocked. “This is the wildest thing you’ve ever said, and that’s telling, because I’ve heard you say a lot of crazy things.”

“Is it really that crazy? Why can’t you at least try? He’s loaded, and it’s not like you’d be doing anything wrong. You’d get a lot of money, and he’d get what he wants.”

“Leah, that’s…I don’t know if I can do that,” I stammered.

“Why not?”

“Because he doesn’t like me like that?”

That was the worst thing I could say at that moment. I’d thought I didn’t really care what he thought about me, but now I found myself caring a bit too much.

I should’ve been more scared of the idea of being a mistress of one of the wealthiest alphas uptown, and while that was nervewracking, my current financial situation was much scarier. Coral’s hospital expenses were essentials, and everything I did was to give her a life I’d never had. And somehow, it still felt like I was letting her down. I would choose her any day, over anything, and I didn’t care what I had to do, even if that meant being someone’s mistress.