Her Older Alpha

by Shanika Levene

  She’d had it all: A successful career, an amazing sister and beautiful new niece, a new home… and a boyfriend who adored her.

  I was so high, so high on life, she thought wistfully. I felt like I could do anything. Like nothing could stop me.

  She opened the door of her Honda and stepped heavily out. The house was dark and she turned the lights on with a pang of loneliness. How did it all go so wrong? This house was like a dream come true. This house gave me a feeling that I made it. I should have had a family in this house. I could have been with --

  Thoughts of her ex, and the way she had treated him as she chased success swirled in her mind.

  Her long hours, relentless business goals, and ‘let’s wait to get married’ attitude had finally pushed him away. Before she even let her mind sink to the depths of her memories of him, she stopped and closed her eyes, leaning her hands on the counter. No, she said to herself. I won’t repeat that story to myself again.

  Enough with the pity party Hadley, she thought.

  She was halfway through her heated LeanCuisine and glass of wine when her phone rang. She picked up.

  “Hello,” she said warmly, greeting her niece Cassy, whose name she had seen on the caller ID. Her niece was one of the few people who could still make her worries recede into the background. Hadley abandoned her dinner, and moved to the couch with her glass of wine. She could tell right away that Cassy was upset. As she listened through the tears and hiccups, Hadley uncovered the reason for this: Cassy’s wedding venue had fallen through.

  “We’ll have it here,” Hadley heard herself offering. “It will be beautiful, Cassy. The lilacs will still be in bloom, and the oak tree with be golden, yellow, and orange. We’ll put a tent up in the backyard, with little heaters to keep everyone warm.” Hadley felt herself laying out a vision of a gorgeous fall wedding, one she’d actually always imagined having for herself one day, here at the house she loved so much. Cassy’s hiccups and ragged breath turned more even as she listened to Hadley’s plan.

  “We’ll rent white chairs and set up a beautiful altar. The caterers can use the kitchen. Maybe I’ll make my famous meat pies -- those would be so easy to make ahead of time, and you could help if you wanted because I’ve been meaning to show you the recipe. It would be fun, Cassy.”

  “Oh, Aunt Hadley, thank you so much. I don’t know what I would do without you. This wedding planning… it’s bringing up so many feelings about Mom. I -- I just -- I really need you right now.”

  “I know, baby, I know,” said Hadley. “I’m here for you.”

  “I wish she was here.”

  “You and me both, baby.”

  “How is the business going?”

  “It’s seen better days. It’ll be all right. Don’t you worry about it. You’ve got enough on your mind.”

  “Things will get better, Aunt Hadley,” Cassy said.

  “I know. I know they will. You and I will figure out how to get along. We already are, aren’t we? I’m so proud of you, Cass.”

  “You’re gonna make me cry again.”

  “No! Don’t do that,” Hadley laughed. “I hate to hear you cry. I want to make you happy, and that’s it.”

  When they hung up, Hadley thought about what she had done. The wedding was to be on September 26th. There was a chance that she would be packing up and leaving the house for good after that date. She sank into the couch, letting her head lie back against the cushions. She did want to make Cassy feel happy. Doing something nice for Cassy, and taking away her pain, actually made her feel so much better herself. Funny how that works, she thought.

  How will I tell Cassy that I’m going to lose the house? That I’m in debt? That my business is failing?

  She looks up to me. She needs me.

  The questions were too much to answer at that time, and she took out the Gossip Trender magazine that she’d purchased in the city that afternoon. It had taken a while to find an issue from the week before, but she’d finally found one at a drug store on Pine Street. She flipped to the page she had marked; the page with Jack Pittman on it.

  She started to look over the pictures again.

  He looked right at me, she realized. He walked away… but then walked back. He wanted to see me again. She ran her hand through her hair. Did he like what he saw?

  She reached for her laptop off of the coffee table, and did a search for Jack Pittman. As Gina had suggested, there wasn’t much there. No houses, as she’d expect to see for other celebrities and A-listers. No information on net worth, or articles in Forbes about his various companies.

  Several articles pointed out that he was a “silent partner” in his companies, and suggested that the secretive way he did business was part of his appeal to other business owners. They could benefit from his apparent business savvy, bottomless funds, and connections, while keeping all of the fame and glory.

  Apparently, fame and glory was the last thing that this business owner wanted.

  He seemed to do everything possible not to have fame and glory. She found nothing about the Lion’s Den, which made her suspicious. It seemed that it was not possible to run an establishment of any sort these days without opening up to satellite images, public reviews, and copious public images of at least the front doors. But for the Lion’s Den, the search turned up blank.

  Either it doesn’t exist, thought Hadley, or someone with a lot of money doesn’t want it on the internet. Can money even influence the internet? she wondered. Of course. Why not? Money makes the world go round.

  She browsed through images of Jack one last time, and with blurry shots of his figure darting in and out of buildings floating through her mind, she went to bed.

  When she fell asleep, she dreamed of Jack Pittman. He was wearing an army green baseball hat, pulled low over his face. He lifted it off, exposing deep, intensely quizzical brown eyes. He leaned down to her and kissed her, as if he was taking a sip of fine wine.

  Chapter 3

  Three days later, Hadley stood on the curb outside of 88 Broadway, looking up. The towering building was made of grey cement, and there was no sign of luxury or billionaires around.

  She did see a black symbol painted on a grey brick just to the right of the plain, black metal door. It was a lion, standing up on his hind legs, his mouth open in a toothy roar. She glanced down at the card in her hand, for the third time in a row.

  The symbol matched, exactly.

  But how was she supposed to get in?

  The door had one plain brass door handle, and when she'd tried it moments ago she realized that it was locked. She tried it again now.

  Still locked.

  There was a man standing several feet away, who appeared to be looking through his phone as if he was about to call someone. She saw him glancing up at her through the corner of her eye, and finally she looked directly at him. He looked away quickly. She spun on her heel and marched towards him.

  "Sir?" she said, holding up the card. "Do you know how I can get into the Lion's Den?"

  He looked at the card, and then eyed her.

  "Where'd you get that card?" he asked suspiciously.

  "I was given this card," she said, indignantly. "By Jack Pittman himself. And I'm sure he's waiting for me now." She was starting to suspect that the guy was a security person for the building, perhaps even for the club.

  He still looked suspicious. "You don't look like the usual --" he started, but she shot him a look, warning him to watch his words. He was a young man, and she saw that her motherly look had an effect.

  "Pittman gave this to you?" he asked again.

  "That's what I said, isn't it?" asked Hadley, hitching her purse up on her shoulder and straightening herself so that she might look taller. She was a head taller than the security guard.

  The man touched a button that was along the side of a black wire that hung down around his collar. Suddenly, the doors opened.

  A bellman stepped out onto the sidewalk, and held the door open.

&
nbsp; Hadley shouldered her bag again, and marched forwards. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping over the threshold. A chill passed over her. I am walking into a den of lions, she thought nervously.

  But what had Gina said? She must have brawn. And Jack Pittman had chosen her, over many other women. She, Hadley Wilder, was a woman who Jack Pittman wanted in his club. No matter that it was probably some lowly service job -- it simply felt good to be wanted. Curiosity was getting the best of her.

  Even if she didn't take the job, she wanted to see what it was like inside, at least. She'd left the camera at home. First, she needed to see what this was all about for herself.

  She also wanted to see the handsome, tall Jack Pittman again.

  The bellhop walked her down an average, narrow hallway. He unlocked and opened a second door, and all of a sudden Hadley saw an expansive lobby in front of her, paneled in swirling white and tan marble tiles. The floor was also marble, but pink with golden flecks. A large crystal chandelier draped down off of the high lobby ceiling, casting a warm glow over the room which twinkled off of the many polished surfaces. A mahogany desk sat in one corner, and behind it was a small room. She could see many screens through the open doorway.

  "Got another one!" the bellhop shouted.

  A man stepped out of the small back room. He adjusted his vest and stepped up to the space behind the desk. The bellhop walked towards the desk, and Hadley followed.

  "We just need to do a security check," explained the bellhop. "Tony here will have a look through your bag. We'll hold onto your phone while you are in the club, and give it right back to you on your way out."

  Hadley wanted to say no. She was never without her phone, and it felt like an issue of personal safety and security to have it on her at all times. But the two men were waiting, and she wanted, now that she'd seen the opulence of the lobby, to see the rest of the club.

  Sheer curiosity was eating away at her. As Tony searched her bag, she thought wryly how ironic it was that she was finally being invited into an exclusive club, and it was not due to her business success. Quite the opposite, she thought sourly. It is due to my business failure. If I wasn't completely broke I would never be in this position.

  Tony was a thorough security officer, and Hadley was relieved that she did not have the small button sized camera still in her purse. She watched as Tony opened her lipstick container, eye shadow, and foundation. He poured through her daily planner, and then sifted through her wallet. Once he'd emptied her full purse, he turned it over and shook it. He then repacked it and waved a wand over it before handing it over to her. He'd kept her phone out.

  He and the bellman then walked her over to an elevator, and keyed in a code which caused the door to open. Hadley and the bellman stepped inside.

  As the elevator ascended, Hadley realized how naked she felt without her phone. Cassy often called during the day, to give some update or detail about the wedding plans.

  Hadley loved hearing about what flowers Cassy chose, or what kind of icing would be on the cake. She happily let her mind wander over her niece’s wedding plans while the bellhop stood at her sides, his shoulders square and his arms clasped in front of him.

  When the elevator opened, Hadley saw that they were in yet another lobby area. She waited for the bellhop to get out first, and escort her forwards, but he stayed where he was, and stared straight forwards.

  "Is this... should I... get out here?" asked Hadley. When the bellhop nodded, she felt her stomach drop. This was all so very strange. She walked forwards, and noticed that her heart was starting to beat faster with nerves.

  There were wide, tall double doors ahead of her, and she walked towards them slowly. Two-thirds of the way across the lobby, she heard the elevator doors close. The impulse to turn back to the elevators and press the down button came over her, but she fought it.

  What do I have to lose? I'll see an exclusive club. I'll catch sight of the billionaire again, and I'll hear more about the job, whatever it is. Then, I'll leave. I can decide about the whole camera thing later.

  She placed her hand on the curved brass handle, and pulled. She felt even more vulnerable now. Somehow, the bellhop had given her a measure of comfort. Now, it was just her, and she had no idea what she was walking into.

  Once she had pulled the doors open, she stepped forward into a room that looked almost like a spa. The lights were dimmed, and there was a long desk ahead of her.

  A young woman, who looked like the models she’d sat next to earlier that week, greeted her. “You must be new. You have that look about you.”

  Hadley walked towards the woman who had spoken. “Yes, I have no idea what I’m supposed to be doing here. Jack Pittman, um, selected me, I guess you could say, the other day at the Coon Modeling Agency. It took me a few days to make it in.”

  “I see. The other Coon models have already started training. You’ll be serving Jack, exclusively. Let me show you where you can change. You look like a size eight? What about your shoe size?” The woman leaned down, below the desk and came up with a stack of folded clothes. She held them out politely.

  Hadley hesitated before reaching for them. “I am not sure that I need to change today. I’d just like to learn more about the position, and take a tour of the club perhaps. See what I’d be doing here, exactly.”

  She girl shook her head. “You have to wear this outfit in order to go into the club, and you have to go into the club in order to speak with Jack. There are no managers to give you a tour. The members share the space, and the employees are all independent contractors for each member. We all report to whoever hired us. You’ll have to talk to Jack.”

  “Okay,” Hadley said slowly, letting that information sink in. It seemed that the club was a kind of secretive co-op. “I’ll just go and speak with him quickly then.”

  “What’s your shoe size?” the girl asked again, with just a touch of impatience this time.

  Hadley sighed. It looked like if she wanted to see the club, and see the handsome man again, she would have to change her clothes. “Eight” she said, reaching for the still extended pile of clothing. She began to sort through it as she waited for the girl to find shoes in the right size.

  A shiny, black dress that looked more like lingerie than clothing was on the top, followed by black lace patterned tights complete with garters around the upper thighs. She grimaced as the girl handed her shiny, open toed black shoes with a six inch spiked heel.

  “Right through those doors,” the girl said, as if it was completely normal to hand a stranger such absurdly provocative clothing. Hadley shook her head. What am I doing? she wondered yet again.

  The changing area was like something she’d expect from a high end gym. A countertop held lemon cucumber water, and there were white, thick towels, bathrobes, and shower caps. She saw rows of hair driers, polished sinks, and sandals.

  The room was empty, and Hadley set her purse and the pile of clothes down in a modern arm chair. She started looking around. There were showers around the back, and she saw a deep, square, stone lined hot tub in one corner, near doors that stated ‘sauna’ and ‘steam room.’

  Nice, she thought, imagining sinking into the stone hot tub. I can see how one would get used to that.

  Well, I might as well get this over with. She began stripping away the clothing she’d arrived in, conservative grey slacks and a white blouse, grateful that no one else was in the locker room.

  Once she was in only her undergarments, she began to shimmy into the tight-fitting black dress. As she looped the straps up over her shoulders, she felt the form fitting dress cup her breasts and push them upwards.

  She pulled at the cups that lined the dress, wondering if she was doing something wrong. No, it seemed to be built with a bra inside of it. She sighed and pulled the straps away from her, and then removed her own bra. It would look ridiculous to have her white full coverage bra poking up over the neckline of the black dress.

  She took it off, and th
en hooked the straps over her shoulders again, glancing down at her cleavage. Her breasts were nearly spilling out of the dress, which ended just above her nipple.

  This is outrageous, she thought. She pulled the hemline down. It came to just below her ass, and when she stepped into one heel she felt her legs shift and her ass get lifted as well.

  I feel like a hooker, she thought, stepping into the second heel. She silently cursed her situation, and then thought of Cassy and her house. I have to do this, she thought. She left her gold watch on, to remind her of the forward motion of time and the necessity of her quest.

  Too embarrassed to look in a mirror, she strode quickly from the locker area, through thick curtains that she was sure led deeper into the depths of the den.

  The lights were dim, and swanky music floated through the air. Soft, yellow lamps were set here and there around the perimeter of the room, which looked more like a living room than she expected. It felt almost, homey, and she would have enjoyed the ambiance if she was not so mortified about the outfit that she found herself in.

  The room was empty. It was difficult to walk in the heels and tight dress, and she hobbled forwards, wondering how she was supposed to find Jack Pittman when she had no idea where she was or what she was doing.

  She walked towards a doorway, and stepped through it. Now she was no longer in a comforting dining area, but instead a lounge, with deep, brown leather seating and the smell of pipe tobacco in the air. Several men sat amongst the chairs, and there was a bar in the corner. Women walked throughout the room, some holding drinks and other plates of food. The music was louder, and as she looked across the room she noticed a grand piano, being played by a woman in black dress similar to her own. A second woman played the violin.