"I swear I'm quitting. For reals this time! I don't care how much money they offer me; I can't spend another day with those stuffy old men."
"They're thirty, Aly."
"Exactly! I knew you'd understand," Alessandro grinned. "Hey, can't I just work for you?"
They had been over this. Frankie refused on the grounds that it would screw with their power dynamics. since their time at Alabaster Prep, Alessandro was always Alpha (at least when she didn't need to patronize him with his full name). At her new company Frankie was the head, therefore any position he occupied would leave Alpha as the omega.
Alpha disagreed fervently.
He insisted their relationship was strong enough for it and besides, he would still be top dog if he was licking the floor clean. ("I'd top from the bottom, babe." "Never say babe again.") "No," she said firmly, for what she dared not hope to be the last time. "It's worth mentioning that I do make enough money for both of us to live off comfortably."
Alpha gasped. They were both aware of this situation, but neither had brought the awareness to the corporal world. This was a new argument, and Frankie could imagine four outcomes.
Utter outrage at this vicious assault to his credibility as a productive, masculine man of society.
Compliance at the thought of freedom from overbearing bosses, flirty secretaries, and all responsibility besides that vested upong any upstanding member of a functioning society.
Quiet and bitter insult. Alpha would feel as though he had disappointed her in some way to deserve such expectations and would silently stew over the affront over the next few weeks. Frankie would most likely need to make breakfast every morning for the duration of this period.
Any combination of the above. It is, after all, Alpha.
Frankie sipped her pumpkin spice altte. Alpha raised his eyebrows. Frankie took a bite out of her pumpkin spice scone. Alpha shifted on the overstuffed chair he had been reclining on. Frankie blinked coquettishly.
"Don't you bat your eyelashes at me!" Alpha hissed. After a moment of simmering, Alpha went back to his lazed position on the chair typical to cafes of this nature. "That sounds delightful. I could take another pie pilgrimage, maybe do some lowkey acting. Volunteer at the senior center and charm all the local diamonds. Finally uncover my passion for gardening. I'll consider your offer, Banks."
Frankie Landau-Banks gazed out her wall of windows to the building tops in the surrounding downtown area. A casual flick of her eyes caught one of her hubristic investor's mid-yawn. While snorting mockingly would he be her first choice, her advisor had frequently lectured her on the dangers of offending her loof investors ("loof" being the obvious imaginary neglected positive of "aloof." Her advisor had not found it as obvious as she had.)
While the rest of the gathered businessmen (and women-predominantly women, to be precise. Does that mean they should be listed first? Frankie did not know) were too polite to express their boredom in such a manner, it was clear in their eyes they had nothing more to offer to this particular meeting.
If she was being honest, all Frankie really wished to do was grab one of those pumpkin spice lattes and sit down at a cafe with a book. Curious! Frankie thought. How hard she had worked, how hard she wanted her position, and now here she was wanting to be elsewhere. To be fair, a great chunk of the time Frankie was quite satisfied with herself and her standing. She had made enough money where she could attend the same restaurants as a majority of her fellow Alabaster Prep alumni, every night of the week if she so desired. (She didn't.) Her enterprising mind was well occupied with the hassles of heading such a company; some might even call it a nice outlet for her creativity. Her therapist did. Stefanie had liked to use the term "creative" when describing Frankie's mental disposition.
Mind made up, Frankie latched onto the first lull in the conversation she could find. "Very good. I will take into account all that was said today, and we can finish this in a week. Dismissed."
Her board members were standing up, some coming to her. She found herself far more eager to speak with the female boardees to the males, and she knew it was coincidence. Frankie, by nature, was a sexist of the worst degree. Frankie also, by nature, did her best to defy her nature. One instinct she was prone to was going along with her impulses. They were always terribly clever (as is anything to do with Frankie) and eight times out of ten proved to improve her life in some way, large of small; her job situation was evidence of this.
"Good afternoon, Josh. What was it you needed?"
Does this make me more open minded? Frankie considered this. Speaking to a male despite a predisposition for those of the same gender as her? No, she decided. She was simply an experienced actor.
"I never guessed you were tall enough for this," Alpha noted conversationally.
"I'm wearing heels."
Alpha was wearing her arm around his shoulders, and, somehow, it was working. "It's an experiment, she had told him in response to his questioning gaze. "Typically, in a female-male relationship the male is dominant in almost every way. Subconsciously, the female will differ to the male in most decisions. Part of it must come from the body language these typical relationship employ; when a male has his arm around a females shoulders, he is exuding power and it's near impossible for a female to retain any standing. In the animal kingdom, this would translate to marking your territory, similar to how dogs pee on everything."
"So you're peeing on me?"
"Make me a sandwich," Frankie tried.
"Make yourself a sandwich," Alpha snorted, flopping onto one of the ridiculously comfortable couches in their penthouse.
"Hm," Frankie muttered. Her experiment had failed.
"Good morning sunshine!" Alpha was in a too-bright yellow apron with an equally stunning flash of teeth, flipping vegan pancakes. Frankie had made the switch to vegan in her last year of college and Alpha didn't care enough to go shopping himself.
Perching on a "modern chic" barstool, Frankie blindly stretched her hands out. Twenty-six and a half seconds later a warm cup of coffee (with a dash of organic almond milk) was placed in them. After a sip, Frankie smiled. Smirked. Her had made her realize something.
Her variable had been all wrong for her experiment.
Alpha was already whipped.