Mr. Alpha: A 6 Book Alpha Male Romance Collection

by Alexis Gold

  The girl’s face turned beet red as she realized the absence of a crucial part of the beginning of the interview. She bit her lip, which Jasmine noticed.

  “Hey,” Jasmine said. “Everything is good. It happens and it doesn’t take away from what you’ve already told me. So, let’s start again – not starting over, just backtracking. What is your name? What is your previous job experience? Any training or certifications?”

  “Well,” she started. “My name is Abby Mumford. I am a senior in high school and I spend my free time cooking. I’ll be eighteen in a couple of months, so I want to leave high school and pursue a career as a chef. Although I don’t have any formal training, I do know that I’d be the best chef you could possibly have.”

  Jasmine tapped her pen on the table, deep in thought. Unfortunately, it was against the café’s code of conduct to hire an individual without some type of certification in a cooking program – especially with Abby still enrolled in high school. She seemed like a confident person with a lot of talent to offer, but she simply could not be given the title of “chef” without proper training.

  “Abby, you seem like a nice, driven person with the talent of a girl who will make a great chef someday,” she began, but was cut off by the still-confident girl sitting across from her.

  “I would only like a chance to show you what I am worth. I know I’m a perfect fit for The Morning Bell. Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve always loved seeing this place. My mom would never let me come inside, so I always felt like this place was some type of elusive castle for mermaids or something.”

  With that, Jasmine knew she had to find a place for her and smiled. “You didn’t let me finish. While I can’t hire you on as a chef at this moment, I do have a proposal for you if you’re interested.”

  Abby’s face lit up excitedly. Jasmine offered her a deal that she could work as a waitress at The Morning Bell for the time being. She would even help save money toward culinary school on one condition: that she stay in high school and work part-time at the café to see how the business works.

  If she stuck with her end of the deal, she assured her that she would hire her as the chef as soon as she finished a culinary certification program. Abby accepted the offer. Running over to Jasmine to give her a big hug, she asked if she could help in any way at that moment.

  Jasmine laughed at the girl’s enthusiasm and said, “If you have time, you can go to the back and grab one of the waitresses to show you around.”

  Abby jumped up and followed the order with a large smile, quickly walking to the back room where the waitresses were currently on break. Jasmine smiled. At least she hired a good chef… who could begin working in a few years – which still didn’t exactly solve her hiring problem.

  She began to feel her head ache with stress as she worried about going another day without a chef in her kitchen. There was less than an hour left before the end of the interview period, and no one else was showing up. Sighing in frustration, she stood up and began cleaning the table where small splashes of coffee had littered the surface.

  She had almost given up hope in her search until she suddenly heard the clinging of bells as the door to the café opened. Loud, authoritative steps followed the gentle swing of the bells. A deep voice politely asked, “Am I too late for an interview?”

  Turning around, Jasmine’s eyes settled on a tall, attractive man wearing a nice polo shirt and a pair of black pants. His dirty blonde hair was trimmed neatly and buzzed off at the sides. He had a strong jawline that was covered with a clean stubble, kept short and close to the face. His eyes, a deep dark blue color, seemed to stare deep into her soul, stirring a feeling of butterflies fluttering within her stomach. He offered a warm, half smile with a single dimple appearing on the left side of his face.

  “No, you aren’t late,” she bit her bottom lip. “Please, take a seat.”

  Chapter 2

  The handsome stranger strode over to Jasmine and extended his hand, which was surprisingly muscular, with neatly trimmed fingernails. She wrapped her hand around his and shook it politely. His eyes were locked on hers as he spoke with a deep, authoritative voice that exuded a strange sense of mystery. He had a slight hint of a New Yorker accent; he was definitely not from around Rootsville.

  “Hello, I’m Mason Graham. I hope I’m not too late to interview for the chef position here at the – what is this place called again?”

  “The Morning Bell,” she replied. “Though, I’m pretty certain that it is typical practice to know the name of the place at which you are attempting to gain a job.”

  He chuckled lightly while sitting in a seat at the interview table. “Well, maybe I’m not the typical person.”

  “Fair enough.” She returned his gentle laughter. “I’m Jasmine. I own and run The Morning Bell and I’ll be conducting the interview today. Tell me a bit about yourself, other than the fact that you aren’t a ‘typical’ person.”

  “Very funny.” He cleared his throat and casually rested his arms on the table as if he were bored. Something about this man was very intriguing. “I am new to the area of Rootsville. I spent most of my life traveling from place to place while working at various restaurants. I’m looking to settle down here for a while and your diner happened to catch my attention as a nice place to interview.”

  “That sounds great.” She nodded, studying the man in front of her. For Jasmine, it was very easy to read people. Earlier, during a previous interview, she noticed that the woman she was talking to would frequently twist her wedding ring when making certain points regarding her previous job experience. Eventually, she deduced that the woman was lying about the length of time she had held other jobs, as Jasmine realized that the dates did not quite add up.

  She loved to study others and find quirks, because every person has at least one. However, Mason seemed oddly guarded and she could not quite put a finger on what made him so different and unreadable.

  “I graduated from culinary school a while ago and I’ve been refining my skills ever since – well, as much as you can while working at sub par cafés across the United States. May I ask you a question?”

  “Absolutely,” she said, curious about his intentions. No one else had ever asked her a specific question during an interview before. She was intrigued.

  “What makes this place different from any other diner in a small town? I’m sure you have great food and a comfortable atmosphere as most do, but what makes you so different that would inspire me to work here?”

  She sensed a challenge in his tone – how bold of him. He entered an interview and demanded attention. He shot difficult questions right back at her and smirked as if the two were dancing a tango rather than interviewing. As crazy as his tactics were, she had to admit that it was working by piquing her interest.

  “I suppose the biggest difference within this diner as opposed to others is that each worker at The Morning Bell genuinely cares about every person who walks through the door. I’ve grown up here – specifically right here, in this café. This is a small town where everyone knows everyone, not only by name but by story – which makes it a great place to run a high-quality diner. So, tell me, Mason. What is your story?”

  He chuckled again and leaned in closer to her face, never removing his eyes from hers for a single moment. She watched as his pupils dilated, as he must have seen something in her eyes that he particularly enjoyed. The chemistry between them would have been obvious to anyone who walked by. Despite having only just met him, she felt instantly attracted to his bold personality and neat yet rugged good looks.

  Something stirred from deep inside that made her wish to run her tongue along his chiseled jawbone. Her heart suddenly fluttered as a slow warmth of desire flooded through her cheeks. His breath, smelling of mint and cigarettes, brushed her lips with a promise of more to come as he whispered a reply to her question.

  “Why don’t you hire me and find out?” he challenged as if sharing a secret, then slowly backed away and sat
straight in his seat.

  “Why would I want to do that?” she countered.

  “I have all of the qualifications that you are looking for and I have experience. Something tells me that you probably have no other leads for this position, as you most likely would have turned me away if you already had a chef you wanted to hire. Am I wrong to say you like that I ask questions and take charge? I can tell you enjoy that – the confrontation. Not only is it a quality paramount to being a chef, but I can read you as a person regarding what type of person you would hire.

  “You, Jasmine, are the type of person who gets along with everyone, but you seek someone who can challenge your expectations while still cooking up the best god-damned pancakes with a side of bacon and eggs that you’ve ever tasted in your whole life. For these reasons alone, I know you will hire me.”

  Jasmine squinted her eyes, studying the strange man sitting in front of her. He seemed as if he were a normal enough person, perhaps with a hint of arrogance. However, a slightly cocky attitude – when harnessed and controlled – could be a very useful trait in a chef, whose job is to take command of the kitchen and provide excellent cooking service to the best of perfection.

  Although he seemed overly-confident, it did not take away from the fact that he was entirely correct in all that he mentioned. She did not have any other leads for the chef position, and lord, help her – she did enjoy a challenge of a man.

  “All right, Mason.” She gave him a polite smile drenched in teasing sarcasm. “Perhaps you are right, but you better be ready to prove it if you would like to keep a job here.”

  “So, I’m hired, right?” He winked.

  She returned his wink and confirmed that he could begin working the following day. The two spent the remaining half hour of open business time drinking coffee and exchanging stories of various job experiences. Jasmine explained the story of her last chef, Winnie, to which Mason laughed so hard that tears of hilarity formed at the corners of his eyes. He rested his hands on his stomach as he belly-laughed. She watched as his Adam’s apple bounced up and down with each intake of breath. Stating that she had very bad luck, he eventually calmed his laughter.

  “Wow,” he sighed. “I’ve never heard a story like that. Though, it’s not as if I’ve never had my fair share of bad luck.”

  “How do you mean?” she inquired, but was interrupted by the sound of the anchor clock that hung above the cash register – programmed to alert her when to close up the café each day. Jasmine always closed up The Morning Bell early on Sundays, at 4 o’clock sharp, to allow for employees to have dinner with family. Although not a single customer had entered for quite a while, the place was still buzzing with energy from the waitresses who gathered around and took turns speaking with Abby, who looked ecstatic to be there.

  Once the clock went off, however, the waitresses swiftly gathered belongings and headed out of the door. Abby followed, giving Jasmine a happy wave goodbye.

  “I suppose you’ll have to find out my story another time,” Mason stood up and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you for hiring me. I promise I’ll prove to you that I’m the best option you could have found.”

  “No problem. Have a good evening. I’ll see you on Monday, tomorrow, at five o’clock in the morning, all right?” She smiled and nodded goodbye as he walked out of the café door. She watched as he strutted away, causing her heart to sink gently. There are moments in life when you meet a person and they brighten your day with such luminosity that, when the person walks away, you truly feel the absence of light.

  Mason, who was the complete opposite of Jasmine, made her curious to continue conversations with him. Although he was so different, an energy surrounded him that demanded or exuded trouble – yet made her want to explore him even further.

  As Jasmine grabbed the broom to sweep up The Morning Bell after a long day of customers, she suddenly realized that Calvin had not returned from his new job. The time was half past four in the afternoon, meaning he should have been back two and a half hours ago. A pit of worry formed in her stomach, but she decided to shrug it away.

  Perhaps he met a friend at work and decided to grab dinner. As she swept the crevices of the linoleum flooring, she wondered why her brother never felt the need to call her to update her regarding life matters. He lived in the room directly beside her. She helped him through all of his battles: the nightmares, the appointments with doctors, and the loss of friendships. Her heart hurt that he still didn’t seem to trust her. Though, unfortunately, she realized that she may be deserving of his brush-off attitude, as she felt it was technically her fault that he joined the military and lost his leg – putting him in the circumstance to find a job in the first place. Guilt crept its fingers around her throat and squeezed, causing her breath to feel restricted. She closed her eyes and controlled her breathing to calm herself.

  Suddenly, she heard the bells to the front door ring, alerting her of an incoming customer. Shoot, I must have forgotten to lock the door, she rolled her eyes at herself and then turned around to face the person who must have had a late-evening craving for waffles.

  “I’m sorry, we are actually closed, but –“she began, but then cut herself short as she gasped and widened her eyes. A tall figure of a man stood in front of her dressed in all black with a dark ski mask over his face, hiding his features. The natural instinct of coming face-to-face with a threatening person kicked in, and she instantly reached her hand to her pocket to grab her phone. The man spoke in a voice that had a growling undertone.

  “Don’t even think about calling someone,” he reached to his belt and pulled out a small gun. “I’m just here because I want the money.”

  “Do you really think you’re going to score some big jackpot of funds at a family-run diner?” she asked with a smug look on her face.

  Although she felt fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins, she stood her ground and refused to let the intruder see even a hint of vulnerability. The man swayed slightly from side-to-side, causing Jasmine to wonder if he was nervous. Are criminals afraid, too? Something about him told her that he was nervous to be in the situation.

  “Show me where you keep the money,” he growled, then cleared his throat. He was definitely nervous. His eyes darted around the room as if a police officer were to appear at any moment. His breathing was rapid and he kept rubbing sweat off of the palms of his hands.

  “I’m not going to do that,” she said defiantly.

  The stranger lifted the gun to point directly at her. “I will repeat, show me where you keep the money.”

  “No,” she tightened her jaw in strength. Suddenly, the door bells clanged again, and another figure entered The Morning Bell and walked straight toward them. This time, the new figure did not frighten her, as it seemed vaguely familiar. In a quick flash, Mason grabbed the arm of the attacker and twisted it aggressively behind the man’s back, ensuring that the gun was dropped to the floor. A shocked yelp escaped the lips of the intruder, who began panicking.

  “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he kept repeating. “I just needed the money and I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Well, I’ll tell you what you don’t do. You don’t attack someone – especially not my new boss, because you do not want to get on my bad side.” Mason grabbed the man’s hair through his mask and gripped it tightly backward.

  “Who are you?”

  “The Morning Bell and all of the employees here are protected. Do you or do you not understand what I am saying to you?”

  “Okay, okay, I understand,” he said, gasping as Mason have his arm another twist.

  “Now, Jasmine,” he turned to her and revealed eyes filled in a wild frenzy, causing her to furrow her eyebrows in concern, “what are we going to do with this thief?”

  The intruder’s eyes met her own, begging her to have mercy. He looked genuinely terrified as his breath quickened further. Despite the man’s immoral decision to point a gun at her and attempt to rob her of all o
f her money, she felt as though there was something else to the story.

  Perhaps he honestly needed the money and found no other option. Although he should have sought other methods, she knew that people made mistakes and deserved a second chance. Regardless, she made up her mind.

  “Let him go,” she said. After staring at her for a few moments, Mason let go of the attempted thief and shoved him out of the door. When he shifted his arm, she realized that he had ripped the upper arm fabric of his shirt in the struggle. On his bicep, he had a strange tattoo. She tried to glance at the symbol to decipher it, but couldn’t, and Mason did not seem to notice. He sighed and raised an eyebrow at her.

  “You were just going to let him shoot at you?”

  “He wasn’t going to shoot me. He was afraid,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. “What are you still doing here, anyway?”