"I know we're going there to work, but I'm looking forward to soaking up some sun," I admit. "Maybe playing in the water a bit too. It's been ages since I've gone swimming."
"I'm sure they're gonna make us work for our time off," Anders says with a laugh. "But we're not slaves. They've got to give us a break at some point."
"Oh yeah, for sure." I actually remember Farron explaining that we're only required to work for eight hours a day, with mandatory breaks scattered throughout. So I'm not too worried. Even if I don't get time during the work week, we're guaranteed at least one day off during the two weeks we're on the island. I'm definitely going to hit the waves and go for a swim on my day off.
At least, that's my plan. But, who knows what the future has in store? Whatever it is, it's bound to be exciting.
Two
Duke
Eight years in the army turned me into a lethal weapon. Two years of civilian life has reduced me to babysitting rich people while they make questionable life choices. But "Head of Security" has a nice ring to it and definitely looks good on a resume. If this whole thing doesn't work out, then maybe I can get a job at a museum or something.
I smirk at that thought and refocus my gaze on the man walking in front of me. He's a slender pretty boy alpha in a white suit who has spent the last decade on the verge of mental collapse, trying to live up to his CEO father's expectations. After breaking out from under his dad's shadow, Warren has gotten his hands into all sorts of business ventures and experienced a meteoric rise in his net worth.
I've been his personal bodyguard for the better part of a year now, and I've witnessed his business genius firsthand. This whole resort thing is the first time I've actually questioned his sanity though.
"Right, so the omegas should be arriving at the dock any minute," Warren says with a little nod of satisfaction as he pauses to examine the dining room of the hotel. It's spacious and airy with large doors that open out onto a patio that overlooks the beach. The sound of the waves and the constant cool breeze offer a welcome respite from the mid-summer heat.
I grew up in the deep south, so I'm accustomed to miserable summer weather. Warren, however, pauses every few minutes to mop his brow with a handkerchief. I'm giving it two days before he ditches the suit altogether and starts wearing something a little more reasonable for the weather. For my part, cargo shorts, a tank top, and some sensible sneakers serve my needs just fine. It's casual, sure, but my muscular arms and chest are clearly visible. Everyone who sees me gets a pretty good idea of exactly what I'm capable of.
"We've already cross referenced the list Farron sent over and finished the background checks of our own," I say as Warren and I begin making our way along the winding path that leads to the marina. Several large trees cast their shade over the path, keeping it out of the direct sun. The walk is pleasant and only a couple hundred yards from the main building. The entire island is less than half a mile long at its widest point. The terrain, however, is extremely rocky and difficult to traverse.
The area that the hotel is built on had to undergo extensive landscaping in order to create a flat enough spot to build. The entire ordeal has cost Warren a crazy amount of money. So far, he's doing a good job of keeping the stress from getting to him, but if these first two weeks don't go well, that's going to change very quickly.
"Good, the first guests will be arriving tomorrow morning." Warren stops just under the trees at the edge of the marina. Right now, only a few small pleasure craft sit bobbing at their moors along the dock. The vast majority of the fifty-three berths are completely empty. While we'll be using a private yacht to ferry some guests between the mainland and the hotel, it's expected that most people will be using their own boats. Warren's whole business plan revolves around targeting the elite, after all.
At the end of the dock, our private yacht has moored. From here, I can easily make out the steady stream of gorgeous young omegas as they unload. They’re the final part of Warren's plan. The eye candy.
They're all at least eight to ten years younger than me. Their youthful faces and perfect bodies make me feel my years. When I was their age, I was signing my name on a military contract and heading to bootcamp. Clearing my throat, I look sidelong at Warren. He appears to be mesmerized by the sight of them. He's been single the whole time I've known him, but not for lack of trying. Apparently, he's just got an awful habit of choosing the wrong omega.
I take a deep breath and clap him on the shoulder. "We should probably get down there."
"Mmhmm, yup." Warren nods and wipes his forehead dry for the umpteenth time. "Yes, indeed. Here we go."
I give him a little nudge forward, and together, we advance onto the dock.
"Welcome to Shameless Island!" Warren announces, spreading his arms as we draw close to the omegas.
The name makes me wince every time I hear it. I think it's absolutely terrible and could probably have been workshopped a little further. Warren, on the other hand, fell in love with the idea the moment he came up with it.
"You lovely omegas are here to help me make the grand opening of this resort a reality," Warren continues, gaining confidence as he speaks. "Farron assures me that you've all been briefed on what's expected of you. So, we're just going to do a quick little roll call to make sure everyone is present, and then my head of security, Duke," he gestures to me, "will show you to your rooms and explain the rules of conduct in a little more detail."
I dig out my phone and pull up the list of names Farron sent over. Like I mentioned before, they've already been background checked, twice, so I'm mostly just trying to get a head count here and make sure we've got enough omegas to cover all the shifts.
I start reading off names in alphabetical order. Each omega steps forward when they're called up and confirms their birth date and address for me. Just to make sure there's no one here that shouldn't be.
"Isaac Ridley?" I look up to see a young omega, no older than eighteen or nineteen, coming toward me. He's wearing a shaggy hair cut, and he has the biggest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. So far, every omega has been attractive, but Isaac is downright gorgeous. It requires a conscious effort on my part to refocus on the task at hand. I’m not the only one being paid to remain professional at all times.
After confirming Isaac's details with him, I continue on with the list. It’s a relatively mindless task but I can't stop thinking about those eyes. I could seriously get lost in them.
When I reach the last name on the list, there are two omegas left. Frowning, I narrow my eyes. I haven't skipped any names, and I've been crossing each one off as I got to it. There's a mistake somewhere, and I don’t like mistakes. After calling out the last name, I watch as one of the two comes up to me.
His information is all in line, so he skips off to join the rest of the omegas with an excited grin on his face.
Sighing heavily, I turn my attention back to the list.
"Is something wrong?" Warren asks, leaning over to glance at the list.
The last omega is a little older than the average in the group, but he's still in his early twenties. With a tan complexion, green eyes, and a friendly smile, he definitely knows he's good looking, judging by the expression on his face.