Chapter 4 First date

Ashley

I think my brain stopped working somewhere between new physical therapist and fake girlfriend.

Because there was absolutely no way those two things belonged in the same sentence.

I looked at Sarah.

Then at the arrogant jerk.

He wore the exact same freezing, irritated expression he’d had when he shoved that wad of cash at me earlier, as if this entire ridiculous situation was somehow my fault.

“No,” I said without a second thought.

Sarah raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. “No?”

“Absolutely not.” I pointed at Brooks. “I just met this man minutes ago, and he has been nothing but deeply unpleasant.”

Not to mention, just two weeks ago, I was dumped by the man I’d spent ten years building a life with. Today, I came for an interview only to accidentally get kissed by this arrogant giant, and now I found myself auditioning for the role of his fake girlfriend.

There had to be a limit to how absurd one day was allowed to get.

“Why me?” I asked, throwing my hands up.

Sarah looked at Brooks, then at me. “Because the photographs already exist.”

My stomach sank. “What photographs?”

“The ones from outside,” she explained, tapping the screen of her tablet and sliding it across Dean's desk.

“The story making the rounds is that the untamable Brooks Wayne finally has an Omega girlfriend.”

Brooks muttered a very creative curse word under his breath.

Sarah ignored him completely. “Normally, we'd issue a statement and deny it. But after the last few months, that's not an option.”

“Why?” I couldn't help my curiosity.

“Because Brooks has spent the better part of this season alienating reporters, fighting with referees, and acting like a total menace,” she explained.

I glanced at him. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

“It is,” Sarah said. “Except now it's our problem.”

She turned her tablet toward me and swiped through a few articles.

“This isn’t just about his temper anymore. We’ve had complaints from Omega staff members he’s refused to work with, interviews where he’s made his feelings about Omegas very clear, and more than one incident where his behavior crossed the line.”

Brooks’s jaw tightened. “Sarah—”

“No.” She cut him off. “You’ve been warned before, Brooks. The league doesn’t care that you’re our best player. One more formal complaint and they’re going to bench you.”

I glanced at Brooks.

For the first time since I’d walked into the room, he didn’t look irritated. He looked angry. But Sarah continued anyway, “And unfortunately for you, the biggest problem right now is that everyone knows exactly how you feel about Omegas.”

That explained a lot. “And I'm supposed to fix that?” I asked.

Sarah didn't blink. “You’re supposed to make the public believe the man who supposedly can’t stand Omegas has finally fallen for one.”

“So what exactly are you asking me to do?” I asked, refusing to touch the tablet.

“Pretend to date him,” She said seamlessly. “All while making sure he remains in peak physical shape.”

I stared at her. Then, a dry, hollow laugh escaped my throat.

She didn't laugh. Dean didn't laugh either.

My smile slowly vanished. “You're serious.”

Brooks grunted. “You see? She's not interested, Sarah, just find me another beta physical therapist, I'm not babysitting some Omega just to keep the press off my back.” he made for the door.

My head snapped toward him.

“You didn’t even know me when you decided I couldn’t do the job.” I pushed myself to my feet, my chair scraping loudly against the floor. All the suppressed emotion of the past two weeks came rushing out.

“Just so you know, I don't need a babysitter either, you arrogant jerk. And before you call me fragile, maybe pay attention to the way you walk. You’ve been favoring your right Knee since you came in. Your left side is compensating for something. Knee problem?”

Brooks froze, his dark eyes widening just a fraction.

“I might be an Omega, but I'm a damn good orthopedic specialist,” I told him, keeping my voice steady. “I didn't spend years studying just to be reduced to your PR stunt.”

The room went dead silent after my outburst.

Sarah, however, flashed a sharp smile. “Which is exactly why you are perfect for this.”

“She's an Omega,” Brooks growled, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Sarah said smoothly. “That’s generally how the problem works. And before you object, Brooks, she’s not going anywhere.”

She reached into a drawer, pulled out a thick folder, and slid it onto the desk. “The physical therapist job is yours, Ashley. You will run Brooks's recovery program.”

“And no need to get worried, the fake relationship is just the condition attached to protecting his public image. And it comes with a separate contract. Temporary... and very well compensated.”

She opened the first page. I looked down at the highlighted number.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was... it was more money than I'd made in an entire year of double shifts. Enough to leave the apartment Weston thought he was doing me a massive favor by letting me keep, and get a new one.

And that aside, walking out of here was bound to leave me going right back to being a waitress. This ridiculous offer was my last real hope of coming close to being a specialist.

The unfair system had made sure of that.

I hated that it made me pause. But I needed this. I really needed this.

“Fine,” I said, my voice quiet but firm. I looked up, locking eyes with Brooks. The heavy weight of his Alpha aura was pressing down on the room but I refused to shrink. “But if we do this, I have one non-negotiable condition.”

Brooks narrowed his eyes. “Which is?”

“My job doesn't become a part of your publicity arrangement. When I'm working, I'm your physical therapist. Nothing else.”

Brooks stared at me. For a second, I thought he was going to blow up. But surprisingly, he didn't.

“Alright,” he said, taking a slow step toward me. He leaned over the desk, his massive frame towering over me. “My turn. We don't touch unless there's a camera pointing at us. You don't speak to the media without Sarah's approval. And don't go falling in love with me.”

I scoffed, grabbing the pen from Dean's desk. “Trust me. I just wasted my twenties on a selfish, egotistical athlete. My taste in men is already at rock bottom. You are perfectly safe.”

Brooks's jaw tightened but he didn't say a word.

I signed the bottom of both contracts and tossed the pen down. “I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Wayne.”

“Actually,” Sarah interrupted, clapping her hands together. “You'll see him right now. Brooks is driving you home.”

I froze. “What? Why?”

“Because,” Sarah smirked, holding up her phone. “The paparazzi have without a doubt already tracked the license plate of the cab you arrived in. They are currently swarming the front entrance of your apartment building. If you go back alone, they will eat you alive.”

She looked between the two of us.

“Your first date starts in five minutes. Try to look like you actually tolerate each other.”