Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

I yawned as I dragged myself out of bed, my alarm blaring at 6:30 a.m. Exhaustion clung to me like a wet blanket. A hot shower barely woke me up, so I indulged in two steaming cups of coffee, sipping from my oversized Webster University mug. The caffeine coursed through me, but I still felt sluggish. I glanced out the window—the sun was finally shining, a rare gift. Papers swirled around the street below, signaling a breezy morning, and my weather app promised a balmy sixty-two.

I stood in front of my closet, debating what to wear. The thought of going to the office made my mood drop. With a sigh, I grabbed a navy skirt and a gray silk blouse, pairing them with navy pumps. I dressed quickly, brushed my sleek black hair, and applied makeup I didn’t really need but somehow always put on out of habit.

The real dread hit me then—Thomas Marsden was officially my new boss. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity. Thomas, the guy who couldn’t go ten minutes without checking his reflection in every available surface, who once spent five whole minutes adjusting his hair in the steel of the elevator doors. He was a schmoozer, nothing more. It burned me up inside that he got the promotion, all because he spent his evenings sucking up to Keaton while I stayed late, actually working.

I grabbed my purse, bracing myself for the commute. Lately, the subway had been nothing but a nightmare—three different men had rubbed up against me in the past two weeks, and one had the nerve to brush my breasts, pretending it was an accident. I hadn’t believed him for a second, even with his half-hearted apology.

The office was quiet when I arrived, as it usually was when I came in early. I wasn’t sure why I kept doing it. No one here valued me—so why did I care? But old habits die hard, I guess.

My desk was as I’d left it on Friday, except for one new addition: a small vase with a single red rose and a note tucked into a small white envelope. My heart skipped a beat. I sat down and opened it.

Morgan,

I’m pleading with you to stay. My father promised the next supervisory position goes to you. Don’t tell him I said that because he’ll kill me for revealing his plans. It’ll be worth your while.

Best,

Slade

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. Please let this be true, I thought. I couldn’t take another disappointment. I deserved better.

A knock on my door made me glance up just as Slade walked in, looking as sharp as ever in his graphite suit and pink tie.

"I’m glad to see you haven’t abandoned us," he said with a playful smirk, closing the door behind him.

I paused, letting my fingers rest on the keyboard. "I’m giving this company one more chance to make things right."

“We will,” he assured me, sitting in the chair across from my desk. “My father said you’re next in line.”

“Did he also say why he picked Thomas over me?” My voice was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care.

Slade hesitated. “I didn’t ask.”

I narrowed my eyes. “I think you’re lying.”

“I’m not,” he replied, his expression softening into something apologetic. “He didn’t say. Obviously, he sees something in Thomas.”

I scoffed. “What, that he’s a brown-nosing little kiss-ass? Don’t you notice how he’s constantly hovering around your father, hanging on his every word?”

Slade looked thoughtful for a moment. “You think so?”

“If your father was honey, Thomas would be buzzing around like a damn bee. He’s not qualified, and you know it.”

“He has a master’s degree.”

“Doesn’t mean shit.” I leaned forward. “I’ve found several of his calculations riddled with errors. Honestly, it makes me wonder if he got a free pass in college.”

Slade sighed. “He’s on probation. All new managers must go through a sixty-day trial period.”

“So? He’ll just shove his work onto the people below him to cover for his incompetence. Frankly, I don’t want his greasy hands anywhere near my office.”

Slade chuckled. “Then go to his.”

“That’s even worse. I’d have to sanitize my entire body afterward.”

Before he could respond, my phone buzzed. I picked it up, and sure enough, it was Thomas, summoning me to his new office—the corner office that should’ve been mine. My stomach twisted with indignation as I listened to him bark a half-assed request to meet with me. His tone was smug, as if he knew exactly how much this burned me.

I hung up, muttering, “That was Thomas.”

“Summoned by the new boss already?” Slade teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I replied tersely. “I’m expected in his office in a few minutes.”

“Try to be civil,” Slade said with a half-smile.

“I’m not happy about this situation, but I know how to show respect, even if my boss doesn’t deserve it.”

He grinned, rolling his eyes.

I pointed a finger at him. “Did you just roll your eyes at me? That’s rude, you know.”

“You do realize I’m technically one of your bosses too, right?”

“Yeah, but I like you,” I shot back with a smirk of my own.

Slade laughed, a sound that somehow lightened my mood, but the weight of what awaited me with Thomas hung over me like a storm cloud. As much as I liked Slade, I wasn’t sure his promises would ever come to fruition. Still, a small part of me wanted to believe that maybe—just maybe—things could turn around. But I wasn’t holding my breath.

He grinned, eyes gleaming. “Really? How much?”

I narrowed my gaze. “What are you implying?”

“That you should have dinner with me.”

Here we go again. I glanced away, not ready to deal with this. Slade had always pushed for more, but I wasn’t sure I could give it. Not now, not after everything that had just happened with the promotion. He was part of the boys’ club, the one I’d never be allowed to join.

“Suppose I say no?” I folded my arms. “I don’t think it would be right to have dinner with you. You’re the vice president of Abbott.”

He chuckled, leaning closer. “Then you’re fired. Now, will you have dinner with me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why so anxious all of a sudden? Trying to wine and dine me into staying? I already told you I’m not going anywhere.”

His smile softened. “I like you, Morgan. We once had something, and I want it again.”

“That was five years ago, Slade. I was young and stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid. And you enjoyed it.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re a great kisser, but it was a mistake. We can’t get involved again. Mixing business with pleasure—it’s a recipe for disaster.”

“I don’t care about what’s right. I think we’d make a great couple.” His voice dropped, more serious than I expected.

I stared at him, heart racing, trying to rein in the sudden rush of emotions. “And how would that look to everyone else?”

He smirked, unfazed. “It wouldn’t. We’d keep it quiet.”

I scoffed. “You mean your dirty little secret? Keep me hidden?”

“You’re making it sound so sordid,” he said, a flash of frustration in his voice.

I shook my head. “Thanks for the offer, but your lips are just going to have to stay cold.”

He chuckled softly. “They’re not cold. Want to check?”

I slipped my navy pumps back on, resisting the urge to snap at him. When I stood, so did Slade, as if he was ready to stop me from leaving. His hand caught my arm, just firm enough to make me pause.

“Just think about it, Morgan. It’s only dinner.”

I sighed, looking up at him. “I like you, Slade, and that’s why I’m saying no. It wouldn’t work. Not now, not ever.”

His brown eyes dimmed with disappointment, and for a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. But deep down, I knew that starting up something with him again was the wrong call. I was too focused on my career, too determined to let anything derail me. I killed houseplants for God’s sake. A relationship would be no different.

“Just keep it in mind,” he murmured, finally letting go.

I walked out without another glance back, heading toward Thomas’ office. My hand hovered at the heavy wooden door. I took a breath, forcing myself to smile. It was the only way I could keep from slamming my fist through it.

When I knocked, I heard his familiar voice from inside. “Come in.”

I stepped in, surprised to see a version of Thomas I barely recognized. A fresh haircut and a shining manicure—he actually looked like an executive now. His black suit was immaculate, paired with a crisp white shirt and a tasteful gray tie. For a moment, I was thrown off. Was this the same man who used to pick his nose during meetings?

“Sit,” he ordered, motioning to the chair.

I bit my tongue. I’m not a dog, I wanted to say, but instead, I settled into the cushioned leather chair. He leaned back, his face passive, though his eyes were sharp.

“I’m sure you thought the job was yours,” he began, his tone condescending. “After all, you’ve been here the longest, and you’re one of the few women at Abbott.”

So this was how he wanted to start off his position? What kind of dick rubs his promotion in someone else’s face? I could see this work relationship was off to a banging start.

I stiffened. “Excuse me, I’m the only woman in the engineering department.”

He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Yes, well, that doesn’t mean you deserve special privileges.”

I ground my teeth. “I don’t get special privileges. I work longer hours than anyone here, and I always do my best.”

He smiled that patronizing smile I hated. “You do. I just hope my promotion won’t make you stop.”

I could barely hold back the fire rising in my chest. “Are you implying that I’ll slack off because I didn’t get what I deserve?”

“I am,” he said smoothly. “I saw how you acted last time you didn’t get a promotion. I’m just trying to avoid a repeat.”

There was no acting, I was spitting mad, but I swallowed my pride and within a couple of days, I was back to working at my usual pace. I didn’t throw a tantrum or stomp my feet.

I held his gaze, seething. “I have enough integrity not to retaliate.”

He nodded, as if satisfied with his judgment. “Good. I want us all to work together, like one big happy family.”

Fucking prick. I gripped the armrests of the chair until my knuckles turned white.

“I have no intention of upsetting the department,” I said, my voice a dangerous calm. “I didn’t get the promotion, and that’s that. No big deal.”

My blood boiled beneath the surface. Every fiber of my being wanted to scream, but I remained collected. If Thomas failed, it would be because of his own incompetence, not my sabotage. I would just need to sit back and watch it happen.

“I’m starting weekly meetings on Mondays,” he continued. “We’ll discuss what’s happening that week. Everyone can voice their concerns or opinions. I think it’ll help us all come together.”

I forced a smile. “Sounds great. Are we starting today?”

He shook his head. “Next week. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Keaton. It’s something he does with all his new managers.”

New managers. Like I’m beneath you , I thought. My pulse pounded as he casually dismissed me. I wanted to tear into him, but I couldn’t afford to lose control.

“Enjoy your meeting,” I said through clenched teeth, standing up.

“See you later,” he replied, already glancing at his computer as if I were nothing more than an afterthought.

As I walked out, my mind screamed: I’m so much more qualified than you.

I rushed into the bathroom, fury bubbling up inside me. My hands trembled as I gripped the sink, staring at my reflection. My face was flushed, and I could feel the heat radiating off my skin. Breathe. I forced myself to inhale deeply, then splashed cold water on my face, hoping to wash away the anger. The shock of it calmed me, but only a little.

The thought of storming back into Thomas’s office, hands around his throat, was tempting. Instead, I wiped my face with a paper towel, took one more deep breath, and steeled myself. No breakdowns at work. Not here.

By the time I returned to my office, the calm facade was back, though the pounding in my head was getting worse. I shut the door behind me and flicked off the fluorescent lights, their harshness only adding to my headache. The day had already been a disaster—between Thomas’s condescension and my lack of sleep, I was on the verge of a meltdown.

I buried myself in work, finishing a project that wasn’t due until next week. If I was going to burn out, I might as well be productive. But even as I tried to focus, the weight of Thomas’s words dragged me down. One big happy family? What a joke. I knew the game, and I was tired of playing by their rules.

At five, I packed up and left, slipping into the crowded elevator. The air was thick with the scent of cologne and cheap aftershave, the kind that clung to the men from my department. I ignored them until I felt a hand brush against me—too deliberate to be accidental. A few snickers followed, but I kept my eyes forward, jaw clenched. It wasn’t the first time, and I’d long since stopped reacting. But one day, one of them would get what they deserved.

Once outside, I hailed a cab and sank into the seat, massaging my temples. The day had taken its toll. Just as I was about to close my eyes, my phone buzzed. Erika.

"Hey," I muttered, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“Don’t hey me. Have a drink with me tonight," she insisted. Her voice had that playful lilt that meant she wasn’t taking no for an answer.

“I’m dead, Erika. I’ve had the day from hell, and I just want to crawl into bed and sleep off this pain in my head,” I groaned, rubbing my forehead.

“One drink, Morgan. It’ll help with the headache. Promise.”

I hesitated. The thought of sinking into my sheets was tempting, but Erika was relentless.

"Where?"

“Diamond Square lounge. You know you love their chocolate martinis,” she coaxed.

I sighed. “Fine. But just one drink.”

“Atta girl! I’ll see you there.”

I leaned back against the seat, telling the driver to head for Diamond Square. My headache throbbed in time with the city’s rhythm, but at least I’d have a distraction. Maybe some sliders. And, God, I needed that martini.

When I arrived, the elegant ambiance of the lounge greeted me—a stark contrast to my foul mood. I spotted Erika instantly, perched on a white leather bar stool, already charming some handsome man in a sharp, blue pinstriped suit. She turned heads wherever she went with her golden hair and infectious energy. Next to her, I always felt like the boring, unremarkable one.

Erika’s face lit up when she saw me. She bounced off the stool, kissed me hard on the lips, and grinned. I noticed the man’s eyebrows shoot up at the sight, a little smirk playing on his lips. Great. Now he probably thought we were lovers. Typical.

“Morgan, meet Michael Elliot,” she said, sliding back onto her stool and pulling me with her.

“Michael Elliot? As in Elliot Engineering?” I raised an eyebrow.

His grin widened, revealing perfect white teeth. “The one and only. You know of us?”

“I work for Abbott Associates,” I said, watching his smile fade.

“Ah, the competition,” he said, the light in his eyes dimming slightly.

“Sorry about that,” I said, shrugging.

He waved it off. “No need to apologize. What’s a little competition? Besides, I’m starving. Care to join me at a table?”

Erika perked up. “As long as you’re buying.”

Michael chuckled. “Of course. I wouldn’t invite you otherwise.”

He signaled the host, and soon we were seated in a plush, semi-circular booth. Erika slid in first, then me, and Michael took the seat next to me, his arm casually resting along the back of the booth. As we scanned the menus, he turned to me. “So, what do you do at Abbott?”

Before I could answer, the waiter arrived to take our drink orders. I went for a chocolate martini, Erika did the same, and Michael, still nursing his scotch, ordered another.

“I work on structural engineering projects for commercial buildings,” I said once the waiter left, listing off a few high-profile ones I’d been involved in.

Michael looked impressed. “That’s quite the portfolio. Not many women go into your field.”

I shrugged. “I’ve always been good at math, and I like building things. Dated a contractor and a carpenter, so it kind of fits.”

“Boyfriend now?” His eyes held a spark of curiosity, and Erika nudged my knee under the table.

“No,” I said, forcing a smile. “Work keeps me busy.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, leaning in slightly. “Driven women are my kind of people. Maybe I should try to lure you away from Abbott.”

I laughed softly. “I like my job. Though working in a department full of men can be... challenging.”

“We’ve got three women at Elliot,” he said, clearly proud. “I made sure to create an open environment. No closed doors. My office is even part of the open floor.”

I couldn’t help but be intrigued. An open office? No boys’ club? Maybe this conversation wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

I leaned in, intrigued, as Michael's smooth, self-assured voice washed over me.

"What about private calls?" I asked.

“I take them in the conference room. All glass, but there’s a feature that blocks out prying eyes when needed,” he replied with a grin, his confidence making everything sound effortless.

“I like the idea of an open workspace,” I said, swirling my chocolate martini, trying to appear more casual than I felt.

Michael’s eyes sharpened. “Do you deal with hostility from the men?”

I bit my lip, hesitating. “Not so much hostility as being the butt of their jokes. It’s not easy when there are so few women in the company, even in support roles.”

His jaw tightened. “That’s illegal.”

I shrugged. “I’m used to it.”

Michael’s eyes darkened as he leaned forward, voice low and rough. “You shouldn’t have to get used to it.”

The intensity of his tone sent a shiver down my spine, and I watched him take a slow, deliberate drink of his scotch, his eyes never leaving mine. "Now I just have to convince you to come work for me," he said with a smirk.

Erika kept her mouth shut but nudged my knee to give me silent encouragement.

“Are we negotiating now?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

His smirk deepened. “What would you like?”

I hesitated, the memories of being overlooked time and time again flooding back. “At least the same salary—and a real shot at a promotion. I’ve been passed over too many times. They told me my looks are... intimidating.”

Michael’s gaze softened, but there was a spark of something else beneath the surface. “You are stunning,” he admitted, his eyes traveling over my face, “but that should never be a reason to overlook someone’s talent.”

Heat crept up my neck, and I glanced at Erika, who was trying not to smirk as she once again bumped her knee against mine under the table.

“Sounds like a match made in heaven,” Erika teased, her playful tone cutting through the tension.

Michael chuckled and pulled a sleek pen from his inner jacket pocket, sliding it across the table along with the napkin his scotch sat on. “Write me a figure.”

My heart skipped a beat. “You’re serious about this?”

“I’m very serious,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms, his gaze unwavering. “I’m familiar with your work on the Fox building.”

“You know Oliver Fox?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

Michael nodded, his smile tightening. “I do. My, uh, ex-wife was friends with his wife, Ryleigh. Lovely woman.”

I nodded, processing that bit of personal information. “He was very pleasant to deal with.”

“Write me a figure,” he repeated, his voice a touch more commanding.

I glanced at Erika, who gave me a subtle nod of encouragement. After a moment of internal debate, I jotted down my current salary and slid the napkin back to Michael. He unfolded it slowly, glancing at the number before raising an eyebrow at me.

“That’s all?” he asked, disbelief lacing his tone. “You’re worth more. I can give you more.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “You haven’t even seen my résumé. For all you know, I could be a total trainwreck.”

“I doubt that,” he said, his smile confident. “Can I make you an offer?”

I swallowed hard and nodded, afraid if I spoke my voice would crack. I glanced at Erika to see a flicker of encouragement in her eyes.

Michael took the pen again, this time hiding his answer behind his shoulder like a schoolboy trying to protect his test from wandering eyes. He folded the napkin and slid it back to me, a playful glint in his eye.

I unfolded it carefully, my breath catching as I saw the number he’d written. It was nearly twenty thousand dollars more than what I was currently making. My mind raced—this was enough to help my parents more and make a real dent in my student loans.

“When would I start?” I asked, my voice suddenly breathless.

“Whenever you want,” Michael said smoothly, as if this was the easiest decision in the world.

“I’d need to give a month’s notice,” I replied, my practical side kicking in. “And I’m overdue for a vacation. I haven’t had one in years.”

“Your start date is six weeks from today,” he said without missing a beat.

I blinked. “That’s it? No discussion, no checking with your executives or HR?”

Michael’s grin widened. “It’s my company. I hire who I want. And I want you.”

I laughed, shaking my head in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Michael urged, his eyes gleaming. “And I’ll have HR draft a formal offer tomorrow. I just need your contact information and your résumé for the file.”

With a flourish, he pulled a sleek business card from his pocket and slid it across the table. I picked it up, running my thumb over the thick, raised letters. The card simply read, “Michael Elliot, Head Guy in Charge.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? No CEO or president?”

“It’s my company,” he said with a laugh. “I don’t need to put on airs.”

I shook my head, still processing. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course,” he replied easily. “But I’ll need your contact info so I can nag you if you try to say no.”

With a smile, I pulled out my own card and handed it to him. Michael took it, studying it briefly before looking back at me.

“No title?” he asked, arching a brow.

“I have one,” I said dryly. “Engineering Associate.”

He sighed, shaking his head. “Let me guess. They keep promising promotions, but those promises are always unfulfilled. Other kiss-asses get the positions you’ve earned, and they use your looks as an excuse to hold you back. Their loss is my gain.”

“Is this really happening?” I muttered, still half in disbelief.

“Yes, it is,” Michael said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin. “Call it fate that I met your lovely friend here.”

“Thank you,” Erika chimed in with a wink. “Now, can we eat?”

We all laughed as the waiter approached, Michael gesturing to the menu. “Absolutely. And it’s cause for celebration. Order anything you want.”

I couldn’t help but smile as I glanced down at the menu, the weight of Michael’s offer settling in my chest. Maybe things were about to change after all.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” I said, my voice still tinged with disbelief as Erika and I sank into the backseat of the cab, the city lights flickering through the window.

“Believe it,” she replied, a grin tugging at her lips.

I turned to her, suspicion creeping into my voice. “Did you set that up?”

Erika scoffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Like I know who Michael Elliot is? I had no clue. I was just looking for a guy who could pay for my drinks.”

I laughed, still processing the whirlwind of the evening. “That was incredible.”

She raised an eyebrow. “So, are you taking it?”

“I think so,” I admitted, my thoughts racing. “I like the idea of working in a big, open space. It feels more collaborative, like being part of a team.”

Erika smirked. “That’s all you like about it? What about the salary?”

I smiled, glancing out the window. “That too. I can help my parents more.”

Her tone softened. “How are they?”

I sighed, the weight of it all settling back on my shoulders. “Not good. Dad’s been rationing his arthritis meds because he can’t afford them. I sent them money, but it’s not enough. I can’t let that happen.”

Erika’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Well, this will definitely help.”

“Yeah,” I murmured, my thoughts turning to the next hurdle. “Now I just have to figure out how to word my resignation. I don’t know how they’ll take it.”

“Who cares?” Erika said sharply, her face hardening. “They’ve done you wrong so many times. The harassment, the passed-over promotions—it’s not your problem how they take it.”

I bit my lip, the familiar guilt gnawing at me. “I let the harassment go on because I didn’t report it. It was the same thing at Webster. Out of a class of 114 engineering students, only eight of us were women. By senior year, there were just four of us left. We dealt with so much crap.”

Erika shook her head, her voice filled with frustration. “Who says engineering is a male-dominated career? If a woman wants to be an engineer, she should be able to without all that nonsense.”

“It still happens,” I said quietly. “And it’ll probably keep happening. But... I think it’ll be different at Elliot.”

The cab pulled up to Erika’s apartment, and she reached into her purse, shoving a crumpled twenty into my hand before I could even protest.

“Erika, you don’t?—”

Before I could finish, she leaned in and planted a wet, playful kiss on my cheek. “Don’t argue. This is my good deed for the day.”

With a wink, she slid out of the cab and disappeared into the night, leaving me there with the warmth of her kiss and the possibilities that lay ahead.