Omega In The Office - Aria Grace Page 0,5

up at Leon. “How’s he supposed to pay rent?”

“From what he said in his emails, he’s getting disability money right now that will cover rent and utilities. Given that all of his accounts are current, I’m not too worried.” Leon stretches his arms over his head. “He’s already agreed to pay first and last month’s rent, plus the security deposit. The rest of his history is so clean that I’m willing to go with my gut on this one.”

I don’t have to ask him what his gut is saying. From the look on his face, it’s obvious he’s got a good feeling about this tenant. Whereas my palms are sweaty and I feel like I’m running a marathon.

“Look, I know you don’t like it, but the fact is these last four years have made me into a really good judge of character,” Leon explains. “I’ve gotten really good at covering my bases and weeding out the truth from the B.S. If I hadn’t, then I never would’ve been as successful as I was.”

I wince a little as he mentions his escort career again. I’ve been trying to completely forget Omega for Hire even exists.

Still, not only is he my partner, Leon is my twin. If he was willing to follow me into this ill-conceived business venture, then the least I can do is trust his judgment in this.

“Okay.” I nod as I close the laptop. “Send me the list of improvements that need to be made. I’ll get started on them today.”

3

Candor

I still haven’t gotten used to the way people stare when I roll by. Everyone always seems so shocked to see a relatively young, healthy alpha in a wheelchair. They’re not the only ones. I feel the same way when I catch my reflection in the mirror each morning.

Taking a deep breath, I finish buttoning my shirt. Learning how to dress myself without the use of my legs was difficult to say the least, but I was determined to regain as much of my independence as possible—as quickly as possible. My doctors were pretty impressed with my progress. Their initial assessment of my injury was that I would never regain any movement below my waist.

Thanks to a lot of intense physical therapy, and sheer stubbornness, I managed to regain partial control of my hips. It still requires a significant amount of effort to move them, but it’s more than anyone thought possible. I can’t control anything farther down than that though. My legs crumple beneath me if I try to stand and curling my toes will likely never happen.

Given that it’s been a little over a year since my accident, my doctors seem pretty confident I probably won’t improve any further. That doesn’t mean it definitely won’t happen, but apparently, the majority of spinal injuries see the most improvement in their first year.

After that, the chances of complete recovery decrease by a lot.

I take a deep breath and shake those thoughts away.

No dwelling. No wallowing. I need to focus on constructive things. What can I accomplish right now?

Checking my reflection one last time, I nod with satisfaction. At least I still have my looks. Grinning, I roll out of the bedroom and into the living room.

Glass Bay Apartments.

The answer to my prayers. The only apartment complex in the area that even responded to my applications. I’m pretty sure the rest were scared off by my current employment status.

Surprisingly, I’m rather impressed with the apartment. It’s large enough that furniture can be spread out and still leave plenty of room for my chair. Since I live alone, it’s not like I need a lot of stuff anyway. Plus, the extra bedroom means I’ll eventually be able to set up an office space.

One of the benefits about my career as a web developer is that I don’t actually need my legs for it. Well that, and I can work remotely. It shouldn’t be too hard to find a company willing to let me work from home. I’ve got references for days and the skills to back it up. Once I get settled in, I might have to put in the effort to get the ball rolling.

Maybe.

If I’m being honest, I had been getting a little burned out before the accident took me out of commission. So maybe that man-eating escalator was a blessing in disguise.

I grit my jaw at the memory. My long-healed injuries ache, and for a moment, I’m almost transported back to that night. But I manage to hold