Marblehead Ohio, Monsotto corporate HQ, twelfth floor. Director’s office. "Yeah, Pasha Team's having a bit of a day... No, no, they just got blindsided by Distribution's announcement. Well, somebody authorized that..."

Mara leans back in her chair, desk phone pressed to her ear, heels crossed atop her mahogany desk.

"They're Betas, what do you expect?"

Something from the other end makes her snort.

"Hey, they're MY Betas, alright?" she says with a grin.

She remembers something to bring up. “Hey, speaking of… we haven’t changed our policy on hiring omegas have we?” She asks.

“No, none that I can say for sure… no. No, I just thought I might have caught a whiff of one the other day…” Her eyes drift thoughtfully toward the narrow gaps in the office blinds. Beyond them, she catches glimpses of cubicles, team leads making rounds. No phantom omegas that she can make out.

“Could just be one of the betas living with one, right? Carried in the scent from home maybe? I don’t know, it’s weird… Eh, I’ll let you know… Maybe if they turn out to be ugly! Yeah I got dibs, my floor, my undercover omegas got it!” She jokes. The conversation goes back to a more professional place.

"...Okay, okay, right. I'll crack the whip a bit. R&D's still doing fine, last I heard. You just worry about chewing out the right people over in Distribution, okay? Alright. Alright. Okay. Call me back before everybody's out of the building, okay? Alright, talk to you later, bye."

She sets the phone down and stands up with a sigh, walking to her door she opens it, the air and smell it held back rushes in. There it is again. The scent of an omega, barely there but unmistakable. Persistent.

Her nose wrinkles and her eyes narrow as she leans against her doorway. “You're going to piss me off if you keep hiding…” She quietly murmurs to herself, scanning the office. Betas and omegas often can overlap with appearance. Small betas, big omegas. It can get blurred sometimes. People can hide it, suppressants, platform footwear, even body-building can help to mask.

But the little whiffs are beginning to become like torture to Mara.