Rejected My Alpha Mate Chapter 8

#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 , "Magda, has sothing 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 of what a mother was ant 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 ti. 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 ho garden or bought hand-picked from the farr’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 ho to make it for him?

I didn’t think so.

"No, Tyler. I don’t need to co to the house for a hangover redy."

"Yours is the best and I need one. You have to co 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 when he was angry in the past. Now all I felt was annoyance he was trying to boss around as if I were his housekeeper rather than Magda.

"Didn’t you forget sothing here?"

"Yes," I snapped, "My rejection. Are you offering it to this morning? I’ll be glad to co 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 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 an he got until the next hangover was on him. I supposed my mind tried to shield from his cruelty by blocking his behavior out from one ti to the next.

Selective amnesia had been the best way for 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 co make my redy or prove my father right: you slept with for money the sa as any street whore and you have no intention of ever repaying the debt."

I rembered 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 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 wrong in the next weeks after he’d given the check I’d asked for to save Ethan.

I rembered the first weeks of our mating vividly. Tyler rarely spoke to except to instruct how to do sothing for him to make him happy.

We had sex every night no matter whether it hurt 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 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 from his side of the line.

"What?" I asked, trying to force away the sense of dread coming over 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 ’sir’ when you address . 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 co 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 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 only after dealing with Tyler.

"I will see you at work tonight. I have a change of clothes with 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 . 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 so 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 sothing to sleep for a hundred years. Knowing my luck, Tyler Wright would just take the sa potion so he would be there to tornt 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 to co ho 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 sothing 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!"