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Joanna James was the kind of student that was almost invisible in every class. She was a quiet Alpha with an equally quiet voice, secretly hoping to find love.
Her family back home had hoped that by staying on campus and finding a job, she would build up her confidence and perhaps find someone for herself. Unfortunately, she had failed to make a move on potential interests and had resorted to the comfort of her solitude. She was fortunate enough to be employed as a waitress at the Crayfish without having to go through an interview, and she was thankful to Ronald because she truly needed the money.
She managed to adapt to the environment by being direct and quick with her work, and she minded her own business unless Ronald asked her to interfere politely. Tonight, Ronald had specially asked her to fill in for another colleague as he would be hosting very important guests. She had arrived two days prior to the occasion to receive instructions from a man whom introduced himself as Bard Bowman's Right-Hand man, and from there, she knew that her life would never be the same.
Two days later and she was nervously looking over the special order as requested by Bard Bowman. With Ronald's help, she had arranged for the freshest ingredients and had set up the table.
Bard Bowman was the first to arrive, accompanied by his right-hand man and a woman who appeared to be a secretary of sorts. While Bard Bowman established himself at the booth he had specifically selected, the woman and Bard's right-hand man chose a booth close to the door. He was dressed to the nines in a custom-made maroon burgundy three-piece suit, and in one hand he held a bouquet of white clovers and red carnations, which he carefully set down on the table before Joanna rushed to appear at his side.
When she addressed him, she nearly bowed in courtesy because she anticipated a haughty look or attitude in return, but instead she got a sincere smile.
"Hello, Joanna." Bard Bowman stated. His voice had a lovely, deep blend of rustic components and something that made it obvious he was an Alpha. Unlike the typical clients she had served, he did not blast his pheromones everywhere.
Immediately, she was put at ease as though she had been touched by an Omega, and she returned a sweet smile. "Good evening, Mister Bowman, and welcome back to the Crayfish. May I offer you something to drink?" She asked, laying down a menu before him in case he changed his mind.
"A shot of Ronald's personal supply, please." Bard said after rapidly perusing the menu. He rarely drank anything other than premium brand whiskey, and he was aware that Ronald had a supply of well-aged whiskey from his native country.
Joanna took the menu and nodded. "Of course, sir."
"Thank you." Bard said once she returned, graceful in her movements as she poured for him and added two ice cubes. She was just about to ask what else he needed when a familiar intoxicating scent filled her nose, rendering her momentarily stupid before Bard pulled her out of it when he abruptly stood.
Donned in a mint green ruched-side-wrap-hem satin cami dress with a thigh slit, and his hair parted to the side in an elegant sweep, Thranduil was pure sex on matching emerald six-inch stiletto court heels.
He accessorized the ensemble with an emerald diamond choker necklace, and in his hand, he held a matching clutch. He was breath-taking, and Bard said as much.
"My darling, you look gorgeous. Please," he gestured to the booth seat, offering a hand to guide the Omega to sit, but was ignored instead. Bard took it in stride with a slight smile, and he introduced Joanna as their waitress for the evening instead.
Thranduil gave her a curious look before a frown appeared on his lovely face. "Given how crowded the space is, she must be really fatigued." He said as he made a casual gesture toward the deserted restaurant, eyes intent on Bard. "Additionally, I believed you said you would have my milkshake prepared." He added, and Joanna was rushing off to prepare the drink, leaving the couple alone.
"So how did your week go, my love? Did you manage to complete your work?" Bard enquired, taking a sip of his whiskey whilst lounging back to feign aloofness. He was struggling against the overwhelming impulse to take the Omega right there on the table.
Fortunately for him, Joanna returned with the Omega’s drink, and after placing two menus down, she retreated back to Ronald’s side behind the counter.
With a smirk on his face and his eyes fixed solely on Bard, Thranduil sipped his milkshake slowly. "You're awfully affectionate tonight. Did you think I'd bend over and present my ass to you?" He asked, and Bard almost, almost choked on his next sip. The Omega was clearly trying to rile him up, so he decided to play the game.
"Actually, I was hoping to get to know you before I fuck you senseless."
It was Thranduil’s turn to choke on his drink as his sass was returned with equal vigor, but he remained steadfast. He wanted to see just how far the Alpha was willing to go to woo him. "You're pretty presumptuous for a man who rides in a Rolls Royce and brings red carnations and white clovers to a date."
He relaxed back against the booth, grabbing his milkshake along. "I'm not some bitch in heat looking for a sugar daddy."
From across the room, Bard heard an almost quiet ‘ouch’ escape Percy, and with one glare from the Alpha, he straightened up in his seat feigning disinterest.
Bard turned his eyes to Thranduil. "I'm only thirty-four. Plus, the seats in my Rolls Royce are custom-made to be comfortable." He retorted despite losing against the Omega.
Sensing irritation from his date, Thranduil changed tactics. “So, who exactly are you? You show up out of nowhere and disrupt my life, and now you think you can tempt me?"
“If you’re asking for my name, it’s Bard. Bard Bowman. And no, this isn't how I would normally woo my future mate."
The Omega scoffed at that. “Mr. Bowman. Sounds familiar…” he said, thinking about where he had heard the name before. He wasn’t usually involved in the campus gossip, so maybe that’s how he did not know.
“Hmm,” Bard merely hummed, finishing his drink, “and may ask for your name in return, my dearest?”
“I think I’ll keep that information to myself for now.” Was the Omega’s reply, a sly smile breaking across his face. “I wouldn’t want you sending me love letters just yet.”
Bard couldn’t help but raise a curious eyebrow at that. The Omega had a ferocious attitude, and it was turning him on. "My penmanship skills are a thing to marvel at,” he said, “but enough about me, would you like to order?” He offered, opening his own menu up to take a brief pause from the raging battle.
Thranduil was surprised at the sudden turn of topic, and it showed on his face. He had expected the Alpha to blast his pheromones in an attempt to conquer his Omega nature, but he was suddenly calm and that was unlike anything Thranduil had ever experienced.
He quietly opened his menu to find something that would satisfy his appetite, and a classic cheeseburger with fries didn’t look so bad. They were in a diner after all.
Joanna approached as soon as she saw Bard signal for her, and she took Thranduil’s order first before turning to the contemplating Alpha who also ordered the same thing as the Omega after a minute. The menus were taken away and Bard turned his attention back on the Omega, keeping his next question simple enough.
“What is it you study, my darling?”
Thranduil rolled his eyes at the endearment. "What do you think?"
"We're playing guessing games now?" Bard asked, stepping back into the battlefield without intending to. The Omega was not taking it easy on him.
"Only if you're not too afraid to think."
"Okay, well, I think you're a literature student." The Alpha correctly guessed. "From the amount of notes you were writing and the files on the table the last time I saw you, I mean it should be obvious even to an idiot like me, right?"
The Omega leaned in, "What about a business student? Aren't notes and files something they would carry around with them?" he asked.
Bard was thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head in reply. "A business student carries along with them a notebook and a calculator. Usually, numbers are part of their notes, and they have a newspaper as reference." He explained.
"Speaking from experience are you?" The Omega asked, teasing at Bard’s profession.
"I used to collect empty wine barrels for spare change." Bard told him, earning another surprised look from Thranduil. "So, no, I’m not speaking from experience despite my current dealings. Would you like another milkshake?" He offered, clearly uncomfortable with explaining his job.
Thranduil didn’t want to ruin the mood much, and so he said, "No, thank you. I think I've had enough."
He began to get up from the booth as Joanna was approaching with their order and he politely asked her to bag it for him in a takeaway. Unperturbed by the sudden change in his date, Bard cockily asked, “When may I see you again, doll?”
“Again?” Thranduil snorted, grabbing his clutch to pay for his meal but Bard was quick to close it back up. “This won’t be happening again.”
“That’s too bad then. I was hoping we could have a proper date. Like getting dressed up and eating exceptional prawns.” The Alpha said, and the mini-war was on again between them.
“Exceptional prawns?” The Omega scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Just what exactly was all of this right now?” He was even more so beautiful when he scrunched up his nose in anger. “I was under the impression that this was already a proper date with you all dressed up.”
“Well then I guess your standards aren’t that hard to maintain.” The Alpha smirked. “I was under the impression that a beautiful omega such as yourself was worthy of a formal date.” He added, watching in amusement as Thranduil blinked at him in disbelief.
“My standards are high enough, thank you.” He retorted in an almost high pitch. “I just assumed you’re a cheapskate offering to buy me a milkshake instead of champagne.”
Bard laughed out loud, throwing in one final comment that was sure to rile up the Omega. “I assure you, my darling, the kind of champagne you drink doesn’t go well with the kind of prawns I enjoy.”
“So why don’t you quit taking me out for a milkshake, and dine me properly according to my standards.” Thranduil challenged, turning to leave. “How about at the Rivendell, where the prawns are exceptionally good?” he said, grabbing his takeaway and pausing at the doorway of the diner, Ronald and Joanna quietly watching the strange exchange behind the counter.
“You can pick me up at my residence at six-thirty sharp tomorrow night. Oh, and dress to kill.” He said, and he was gone just like that, the Alpha hypnotized by the sway of his hips.
Grinning like a lunatic, Bard turned to Percy as he said, “Get me a 7pm reservation at the Rivendell Lounge tomorrow. And call my Italian tailor.”