Rejected My Alpha Mate

#Chapter 8 Sir Filthy Doggy

Rachel's POV

My head was pounding so hard I didn't notice my phone vibrating for a full minute despite it being right

beside my hand.

"Hello?" I answered, confusion coloring my tone as I saw Tyler's housekeeper was calling me, "Magda,

has something happened?"

I had left instructions with the house staff to report directly to Master Tyler as I would no longer be in

residence. They didn't need to know the particulars of why I was gone. All of them were well-trained as

house servants who tended to ensure their discretion matched their ability to avoid asking questions

not related to their work.

Work hard and silently was Tyler Wright's preference.

"Madam Rachel, we have no hangover cure here."

"I left the recipe with all the other house favorites. It's in the binder in the kitchen drawer beside the

pantry."

"No, no, I have never made it, Madam Rachel!"

Magda was a sweet older woman. She reminded me of what a mother was meant to be like, and I

found myself unable to be sharp with her.

Gentling my tone, I said, "Can you get the binder, Magda?"

I would coach her through making the cure this first time. I had a feeling Tyler was on the verge of

driving the whole staff insane after a night of drinking. Alpha status aside, he acted worse than a baby

when he was sick or in pain.

"I can get it. I have it now."

I could hear her flipping pages until she was able to find the right recipe. She made a sound of distress

as a crashing noise echoed on her side of the line.

"Magda?"

"Madam, there are many steps to this. Master Tyler is not well. Will you please---"

"Get over here. Now."

I straightened in response to the sound of Tyler's angry voice. He was pissed off.

In the past, I had handmade his hangover cure with fresh herbs from my home garden or bought hand-

picked from the farmer's market. I had ground everything with my own two hands and he had acted as

if it was a worthless drink to be slung back when necessary.

Now he wanted to order me home to make it for him?

I didn't think so.

"No, Tyler. I don't need to come to the house for a hangover remedy."

"Yours is the best and I need one. You have to come make it."

"No, Tyler, I don't! That is why I left the recipe there."

I felt as if I were explaining this to an angry child rather than an angry rejected mate. Tyler had scared

me when he was angry in the past. Now all I felt was annoyance he was trying to boss me around as if

I were his housekeeper rather than Magda.

"Didn't you forget something here?"

"Yes," I snapped, "My rejection. Are you offering it to me this morning? I'll be glad to come brew you a

cup of hangover tea in exchange for your side of the rejection ceremony."

"What about the IOU for $500,000 you gave me three years ago?"

I shut my mouth abruptly at the reminder.

Tyler could be a bastard when angry or hurting, too. I always forgot how mean he got until the next

hangover was on him. I supposed my mind tried to shield me from his cruelty by blocking his behavior

out from one time to the next.

Selective amnesia had been the best way for me to cope with the last three years of my life.

Clearing my throat, I tried to regain control of the conversation, "I can talk Magda through making it

over the phone. I don't do anything special or extra, Tyler."

"Your debt is still waiting here along with my headache. You either come make my remedy or prove my

father right: you slept with me for money the same as any street whore and you have no intention of

ever repaying the debt."

I remembered standing in front of Tyler and his father three years previously.

My brother Ethan had been only hours away from being killed; my only chance to save him was to get

my newfound mate to pay off the gambling debts our father had wracked up.

I hadn't wanted to be in their offices asking for money.

All I had wanted was to save my little brother from certain death.

John Wright had looked down his nose at me with so much contempt I had wanted to crawl away to

hide in a hole. All my usual enthusiasm for life had been crushed underneath his disdain.

I had thought my mate was reacting to his father's mood.

Tyler had proven me wrong in the next weeks after he'd given me the check I'd asked for to save

Ethan.

I remembered the first weeks of our mating vividly. Tyler rarely spoke to me except to instruct me how

to do something for him to make him happy.

We had sex every night no matter whether it hurt me or I wanted to be left alone. Tyler insisted I give

him my body in exchange for the IOU I had written out for the $500,000 ransom money. I gave in to him

since I felt I owed him.

I still owed him---and this was his way of reminding me I always would owe him until I paid him back all

five hundred thousand of those dollars.

"I'll be there soon."

"Sir!" he spat at me from his side of the line.

"What?" I asked, trying to force away the sense of dread coming over me at the thought of going back

to the house I'd spent three years trying to escape.

"If you're going to insist you want a rejection, you can call me 'sir' when you address me. I require it

from all my employees."

I gasped in a combination of shock and anger, "You think I'm going to be your employee!?"

"I know I paid you half a million dollars and you haven't come close to working it off. You're my highest

paid employee right now. Get here soon."

"Yes, Sir," I said to him before hanging up the phone.

I thought if he gave me one more order I would wind up murdering him on my arrival to the house.

Straightening my appearance before gathering my handbag, I nodded at my reflection before heading

out to the living room.

I would need to tell Bella where I was going. I had my first day of work looming ahead of me only after

dealing with Tyler.

"I will see you at work tonight. I have a change of clothes with me just in case. I need to go fix a

hangover cure."

Bella looked away from her show, tears streaming down her face, "What? Why can't you make it here?"

"It isn't for me. Why are you crying?"

Bella took a tissue from the box on the table and wiped at her face. She pointed to the screen and I

suppressed a groan: she put way too much energy into her television shows.

"Did the girl choose the vampire or the werewolf?"

I tried to inject some humor into my tone. It wasn't Bella's fault I was in a bad mood or over my head in

debt to Tyler.

"Neither," Bella wailed, "She took a potion which put her into a sleep for a hundred years!"

I wished I could take something to sleep for a hundred years. Knowing my luck, Tyler Wright would just

take the same potion so he would be there to torment me when I woke up.

"That's terrible! Are you going to be okay? I could try to get back as soon as I finished the tea."

I wanted her to say she needed me to come home as soon as possible. Bella would be the perfect

excuse to get away from Tyler quickly.

"Oh, I'll be okay! I have seven more episodes in this season. If you're not making hangover tea here,

where are you going?"

"I'm going to make it for the 'filthy dog' who is now insisting I call him 'sir' as I am his employee if I'm not

his mate."

Bella screeched in outrage, "You should spike it with something awful! It would serve him right for being

such a filthy doggy!"

I grinned at her reaction; I knew I could count on Bella understanding.

"See you at work tonight. I'm going to go treat Sir Filthy Doggy!"NôvelDrama.Org owns this text.