Unleashed (The Elliott Brothers #2)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

" G et the fuck out of here. I can’t believe what I’m hearing," Erika's voice cut through the air, sharp and accusing.

I leaned back against the kitchen counter, my phone tucked between my ear and shoulder. I’d only been back from Montauk for a few hours, and despite the serenity I’d found there, guilt gnawed at me now. My time with Slade had been intoxicating—his smile, his touch—but I wasn’t anywhere near where he was emotionally.

"I’m sorry I didn’t call you," I muttered, knowing it wasn’t enough.

"Sorry?" Erika scoffed, her words dripping with frustration. "I thought some bear ate you or a psycho dragged you into the woods. You had me freaked out! You never go hiking and not check in at least once. Did Abbott fuck your brains out, or did you just stop caring?"

Her words stung, but I knew she was right. Erika had every reason to be mad—I always called for safety check-ins, but this time I had been too swept up in the moment, too captivated by Slade, to even think about it.

"He did fuck my brains out, actually. More than once," I confessed, unable to resist the smirk tugging at my lips.

There was a pause before Erika let out a low whistle. Her voice softened, curiosity replacing the edge. "How did this happen? And don’t leave out the juicy parts."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "I’m not telling you about the sex."

"You already did. Now I want the fine details."

I sighed, leaning my head back against the cabinet, letting the warmth of the memory wash over me. "He showed up at Bear Mountain on the first day of my hike. Waiting for me, like he knew I needed company. One thing led to another…"

I hesitated before telling her about the dream—the one where Slade was the star, and how that dream had blurred into reality. Erika, as usual, was rapt with attention.

"So, your dream became reality. That’s gotta mean something. You must really want him if it happened that fast."

I let the silence linger before admitting the truth. "There’s a problem. He’s in love with me. Has been for years, apparently. But he didn’t actually say it… just, you know, it’s there."

Erika groaned, loud enough for me to imagine her rolling her eyes. "What’s the problem? Doesn’t sound like one to me."

"I don’t feel the same way," I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended.

"Oh, come-fucking-on!" she exploded. "Christ, Kincaid, this is the Roberts thing all over again."

"It is not," I protested, but Erika was already on a roll.

"Ken Roberts would’ve walked through a fire, doused in gasoline, stark naked, to be with you. God forbid you fall for a rich, handsome guy." Her sarcasm was palpable.

"Ken wasn’t for me. He wanted too much," I snapped, suddenly defensive.

"He wanted you. That’s not too much. Do you know he came to me every single time you two had an argument?"

"Why didn’t you say anything?" I shot back.

"Because I told him you were crazy," Erika replied with a snort. "You are crazy. And now here you are, same pattern. You have a guy who would probably die for you, and you’re acting like it’s a curse. What is your problem with letting a guy take care of you?"

"You know why." My voice dropped. "I want to do things for myself."

"And you do," Erika fired back. "But that doesn’t mean you can’t let someone else help you, too."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "You’re one to talk. When are you going to settle down?"

"Don’t turn this shit around on me," she shot back, her tone as relentless as ever. "We’re talking about you."

She was like a dog with a bone when she sank her teeth into a problem. I knew I wasn’t getting out of this.

"My parents are part of the package," I said finally, my voice quieter. "I can’t just forget about them."

"And any man who cares about you will understand that. If Slade loves you, he’ll open his arms to them too. It’s not like this man hasn’t already shared pieces of your life. He was your friend when you were at Abbott."

I closed my eyes. "Yeah, he was."

"You need to let go a little," Erika pressed, softer now. "It won’t hurt."

"I’ll think about it," I mumbled.

There was a pause, then Erika’s tone shifted again, lighter. "Now, tell me about the sex. Was it mind-blowing, or mediocre?"

I laughed, shaking my head. "Not mind-blowing, but definitely not mediocre. Slade’s very… attentive."

"Is he big?" Erika asked, her voice dripping with mischief.

"That’s personal!" I exclaimed, giggling despite myself.

"Oh, so he is," she teased. "Nothing like a nice big cock."

"Erika!" I protested, still laughing.

"Just saying," she shot back. "Now, tell me about the rest of the trip. What was the house like?"

I gave her the rundown of our vacation, though I kept the more intimate details to myself. There were some things I couldn’t even say aloud, like how Slade had spent one entire night with his mouth on me, bringing me to more orgasms than I could count. He was far from selfish, that much was clear.

"He’s a keeper," Erika said definitively when I was done. "I’d say you’re nuts if you let him go."

I sighed, feeling the weight of reality crash back in. "I haven’t decided yet. I start work tomorrow, and I called my mom earlier. Dad is in a lot of pain again. It might be time to change his meds."

"I’m sorry," Erika said softly. "You know I love your dad."

"I should’ve visited them during the trip," I admitted, guilt settling in.

"You always have the weekends," she reassured me.

"I’ll make plans for this weekend," I said, nodding to myself.

"We haven’t seen each other in two weeks," Erika pointed out. "Maybe we can grab a drink or dinner after work?"

"Definitely," I agreed. "Let me see how my week goes at Elliot."

"The perks always seem to land in your lap," Erika teased.

"What perks?" I asked, frowning.

"Another fine boss. Michael is hot," she said.

"And totally off-limits," I reminded her.

"I didn’t say fuck him," she laughed. "Just that he’s fun to look at. Geez, Kincaid, get a sense of humor."

"And on that note, I’m hanging up," I said, rolling my eyes. "I need to get ready for work."

"Good luck on your first day," Erika said warmly. "I hope it works out."

"It will. I feel good about this one," I told her, already imagining tomorrow.

"Call me during the week."

"Will do," I promised before hanging up.

With a sigh, I moved to my closet, pulling out a navy business suit and sleeveless ivory blouse. I was nervous, but ready. Tomorrow, everything would change.

Sleep felt like a distant luxury, as if I had no right to it. I tossed and turned, the conversation with Slade before bed echoing in my mind. He’d been pushing for a commitment, and I wasn’t ready to give him one. I was tangled in my own chaos, and the idea of pausing our relationship indefinitely was becoming more tempting by the hour.

The blaring of my alarm clock was relentless at 6:30 a.m., each press of the snooze button only buying me a few more minutes of restless sleep. Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed, my limbs heavy and reluctant. I stumbled into the shower, hoping the steam would shake off the fatigue. As the hot water pounded against my skin, I tried to drown out my thoughts, focusing on the soothing rhythm instead.

With my hair still damp and air-drying into loose waves, I stood in front of the mirror. The black tresses cascaded down my back, brushing against the middle of it. I was determined to keep it tidy, planning to pin it up in a bun. I slipped into my navy business suit, the tailored cut making me feel more professional, more in control. As I inspected my reflection, I noted the almost-perfect fit of the suit, a small comfort in the sea of uncertainties that awaited.

It was nearly 7:45 a.m. when I finished my morning routine and decided to head to the office early. I checked my phone and saw an email from HR about medical coverage and retirement plans. Perfect timing, I thought. I’d beat the rush and be ready when the head of HR arrived.

Stepping out into the sticky humidity, I tried to ignore how it would wreak havoc on my hair and outfit. I hurried to the subway station, dodging clusters of commuters. The platform was packed, and I ended up standing the entire ride into Midtown. One of these days, I promised myself, I’d trade the subway for a cab.

As I emerged from the subway and approached the building, my stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and anxiety. The Elliott office was on the twenty-second floor. I stepped into the elevator, where Michael was already waiting. He greeted me with a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze on my arm. His graphite pinstriped suit and lavender button-up made him look effortlessly sharp, and I couldn’t help but notice the admiring glances from several women in the elevator.

“I’m glad to have you aboard,” he said.

“Glad to be aboard,” I replied, trying to match his enthusiasm.

“Take care of things in HR and come see me in my office. Claire, my assistant, will get you settled at your desk. We have a catered lunch to kick things off right each Monday.”

“I don’t feel like eating,” I admitted, feeling my nerves bubble up.

“Once you’re settled in, you will,” he said with a reassuring nod.

The elevator dinged on our floor, and Michael led the way. I followed him into the open office, where the hum of activity filled the air. He paused and looked back at me. “Thank you,” I said, my voice edged with nerves. Michael waved, and as he started a conversation with two men in navy suits, I was left to navigate this new world on my own.

After a half hour in the HR department, I made my way back to Michael’s workspace. He was on the phone, jacket off and sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the composed professional. Claire was absent from her desk, leaving me to wait until Michael gestured me over with a welcoming smile.

“Take a seat,” he said, his voice low as he continued to listen to the caller.

Watching him conduct business was almost mesmerizing. He leaned back in his burgundy leather chair, his expression a mix of frustration and determination. When he finally hung up, he exhaled deeply and shook his head. “This client makes me nuts. He doesn’t even want to deal with the engineer working on his building. He wants me and only me.”

“You’re a very desirable guy,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. The words left my mouth before I could censor them, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment.

Michael’s smirk was playful as he rested his head on his hand. “You think I’m desirable?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not appropriate,” I stammered, mortified by my slip.

“I appreciate the compliment,” he said, his tone gentle.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, my face burning. “I’m sorry. What a way to start off my first day.”

“You’re cute,” he said, his tone softening. “Let’s forget it and get to work.” He then called for Claire, who hurried over to us. She was a petite woman with steel-gray hair neatly pinned up and a no-nonsense air about her.

“Yes, Michael?” Claire asked, her voice crisp.

“This is Morgan Kincaid. Can you show her to her desk and get her set up with supplies? Make sure her phone is hooked up and get the extension for me. We’re going to have a lot of communication over the coming weeks.”

Claire led me to my desk, which was situated opposite two other desks, both occupied by men—one with sandy brown hair and the other with red. They glanced up and smiled as I settled in.

“Michael’s extension is 200,” Claire said. “Yours is 201. Supplies are in your top and middle drawer.”

“Thank you,” I said, appreciating her efficiency.

Claire opened a laptop in the middle of my desk, showing me the password and how to change it. The software was familiar, a small relief amidst the sea of newness. “You’ll be having a private lunch in the Blue Room downtown with Michael today,” Claire added.

“He mentioned lunch is catered here on Mondays,” I said, a bit confused.

“That’s to familiarize you with the office. Michael takes all his new employees out on their first day.”

The two men across from me exchanged a glance before returning to their work. I frowned at the subtle scrutiny but tried to focus on the task at hand. Claire left after showing me how to access my email, where I found an assignment from Michael. It involved upgrading a terrace for a residential client. I hadn’t worked on residential projects for a while, but it was a challenge I welcomed.

As I began diving into the project, I felt a mix of nerves and excitement. This was a new chapter, and despite the rough start, I was determined to make it work.

I was so immersed in my work that the passage of time slipped by unnoticed. Michael’s hand on my shoulder jolted me from my focus. I spun around, startled.

“Time for lunch,” he announced, his voice slicing through the silence.

Blinking up at him, I said, “Claire mentioned we were going to the Blue Room.”

Michael’s grin was easy, yet there was a spark of mischief in his eyes. “I have a private suite. I take all my new hires there.”

I glanced around at the empty desks, my confusion evident. “So, I’m not having lunch with the rest of the staff?”

“Nope,” he replied, guiding me with a firm but gentle hand towards the elevators. “We’re going to my suite. My car’s waiting outside.”

As the elevator doors slid open, Michael’s hand remained at the small of my back, leading me smoothly into the cool, polished interior. The ride down was accompanied by the soft hum of the elevator and the rhythmic tapping of Michael’s fingers on his phone.

“How’s everything going so far?” he asked, eyes still on his screen.

I steadied my voice. “I’m getting the hang of things. The project’s interesting.”

“Interesting how?” Michael’s gaze flicked up briefly, a hint of curiosity in his eyes.

“I haven’t worked on residential projects in a while. It’s a refreshing change.”

Michael’s brow furrowed slightly. “Any issues?”

“None yet. I’ve reached out to the architect a couple of times for specs.”

“That’s good. We work with Arden Kohler on numerous projects. You’ll be in good hands.”

I was familiar with Arden Kohler having met him several times during visits to Abbott. He was easy to work with and took suggestions without arrogance despite his many years in architecture.

“I know,” I said, glancing at him. “Is everyone treating you well?”

“Absolutely. My staff is respectful, and I keep competitiveness in check. Everyone gets a fair shot.”

“It wasn’t like that at Abbott,” I said, a touch of nostalgia in my voice.

“I wish you had come here sooner,” Michael said, his voice sincere. “A mind like yours is exactly what I need.”

For the salary he was paying me, I wished I made the decision to move sooner. I realized I would never get the chance I deserved and it was possible here I would. I was happy with my decision.

“It seems like you have plenty of bright minds here already,” I countered, curious.

“None as beautiful as you,” Michael said, his tone unexpectedly earnest.

A blush crept up my cheeks, and I looked down at my navy heels, trying to hide my embarrassment. “Thank you,” I mumbled.

Michael chuckled softly as the elevator doors opened to the main floor. He held the door for me, his hand once again guiding me through the glass front doors and out to the curb where a sleek blue sedan was parked.

A man in a black suit opened the door for us. I slid into the cool interior, a shiver running down my spine as the air conditioning enveloped me. The heady scent of Michael’s cologne filled the small space, making me feel oddly disoriented.

“Did HR give you everything you needed?” Michael’s voice broke the silence, his eyes still fixed on his phone.

“Yes, I’ve got all the details for insurance and retirement plans,” I replied, struggling to focus on the conversation.

Michael’s eyes flicked up. “How was your vacation? You mentioned hiking?”

I hesitated, caught off guard. “Oh, yes, hiking.”

Michael raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t actually go hiking, did you?”

“I did for a few days, then ended up at the beach in Montauk at a friend’s place.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I thought you were hiking for two weeks?”

I smirked. “I was supposed to. But who turns down a week on a private beach?”

“I wouldn’t,” he said, his laugh soft and warm. “I have a home in Southampton.”

“The beach was lovely,” I admitted. “But now I’m peeling. My shoulders got sunburned.”

“Did you use sunscreen?”

“Of course. But my skin is so fair. I dozed off in the sun.”

“Ah, the joys of being young,” Michael mused.

I giggled, “You’re still young.”

“I’m thirty-four. My partying days are behind me.” He quickly changed the subject. “Did you go with Erika?”

I shook my head. “No, she had work. But she’s definitely a party girl.”

Boy, was she ever. In college, she was always the one finding the parties to drag me to. I was always more subdued, the shyer of the two of us, but she wanted me to break out of my shell. I went because she wouldn’t let me stay home watching crappy movies.

“I can tell. She’s quite the character.”

“We were inseparable in high school,” I said, remembering those days. “She was always perfect, while I was a bit of a late bloomer.”

Michael’s eyes softened with amusement. “I find that hard to believe.”

“You’d be surprised. Did you have an awkward stage?”

I doubted he did. He was a gorgeous man and so well put together in a designer suit. I bet he had the girls chasing after him when he was young.

“Oh, definitely. I was thin as a rail in junior high. It wasn’t until high school, working for my father’s construction company, that I grew into my body.”

“That’s why you became a structural engineer?”

“Exactly. I wasn’t keen on swinging a hammer and getting bruised. I preferred the design side of things.”

“I’m sure that disappointed your father.”

“No, he’s proud. My two brothers handle the physical work, and I still collaborate on projects with them. What about your parents? Are they proud of you?”

“Very,” I said softly. “They’re in an assisted living facility in Rockland.”

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. “Are they older than others your age?”

“They are. They were in their forties when they had me. No siblings, so I do my best to help them.”

“I could have offered you a higher salary,” he said thoughtfully.

“You’re already paying me more than Abbott did.”

“And you’re worth every penny,” Michael said with a warm smile. “By the way, Keaton Abbott called me while you were on vacation.”

My eyes widened. “Why?”

“To give me an earful for poaching his best engineer.” Michael’s grin widened, clearly amused by the memory.

"What did you tell him?" I leaned forward, my eyes narrowing with curiosity.

Michael's lips curled into a sly smile. "An employee only leaves because they're unhappy," he said, his voice low and measured. "If you were his best engineer, he should've kept you happy."

My eyebrows shot up. "What did he say to that?"

"He had a few choice words." Michael chuckled, shaking his head. "Then he said, 'I'm not giving you up. I'll give you a raise if you need it.'"

"Why would you do that?" I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.

Michael's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze intense. "Unlike Keaton, I want to keep my best engineer happy."

I fidgeted with my napkin, suddenly uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "I've seen your other engineers; they seem quite capable."

"And they are," Michael conceded, leaning back in his chair. "But some of them lack the passion I see in you." He paused, tilting his head. "Why did you choose structural engineering? It's a male-dominated field."

My eyes lit up, the discomfort forgotten. "I enjoy building things and seeing the finished product that I helped create," I said, my voice animated. "I know I won't win any awards, but I like to know I had a hand in the construction."

Michael nodded approvingly. "I'm glad you decided to come to Elliott."

"It was the right choice," I replied, a small smile playing on my lips.

The sleek black sedan pulled up to the Blue Room, and a doorman in a royal blue uniform stepped forward to open the car door. Michael slipped out first, extending his hand to me. I hesitated for a moment before grasping it, allowing him to help me from the car.

Inside, the Blue Room lived up to its name. The elegant decor showcased a spectrum of blue hues, from deep navy to soft cerulean. Even the linen tablecloths shimmered in a delicate shade of periwinkle.

The hostess greeted Michael by name, her smile just a touch too warm. She led us upstairs to a small private room, where a dark blue semicircular leather booth awaited us. A round table, set for two, gleamed in the center. A serving station and a privately stocked wet bar completed the intimate setting.

As we settled into the booth, a waiter in a crisp royal blue uniform appeared with menus. my eyes widened as I scanned the offerings, noting the conspicuous absence of prices.

Michael watched my reaction with amusement. "Shall I order for us?"

I hesitated, then nodded. "I trust you."

With practiced ease, Michael placed our order in flawless French. I listened, captivated by the unfamiliar words flowing from his lips.

"French?" I asked after the waiter departed.

"This restaurant is French and American," Michael explained, his eyes twinkling.

"What did you order?"

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Just wait and see."

As we continued chatting about work and my recent vacation, I carefully omitted any details about my traveling companion. Michael didn't need to know I was sleeping with my former boss. I kept things vague, mentioning only that I'd gone with a friend.

Our first course arrived shortly after—an endive salad with a lemon vinaigrette dressing. It was light and delicious, paired perfectly with a fruity white wine.

Michael raised his glass, a mischievous glint in his eye. "The wine will be our little secret."

I arched an eyebrow. "Oh? You don't like us drinking at lunch?"

"As long as you don't overdo it if you go out in the future," he said, his tone becoming more serious. "I'd prefer you don't, especially if you're going out in the field."

"I would be going out?" I asked, surprised.

Michael nodded. "Didn't you with Abbott?"

"Not usually," I admitted. "It was mostly phone calls and face-to-face meetings in-house."

"You will with my company," Michael said, leaning forward. "Don't worry, I won't send you to the wolves until you're properly versed in the procedures."

My brow furrowed. "The wolves?"

Michael's expression darkened slightly. "I've already told you how attractive you are. I'm sure plenty of the workmen will agree. I want to make sure you don't take their shit."

I sat up straighter, my chin lifting. "I don't plan on it. Don't let the outside fool you. I'm tough inside."

"I have no doubt," Michael said, his eyes appraising me. "But they might try to take advantage."

"And you want to be chivalrous and make sure they don't?" My tone was challenging.

Michael's voice softened. "What I want is to make sure you're safe."

"Thank you, I think," I replied, uncertainty creeping into my voice.

"Don't take it personally," Michael said, his expression lightening. "They give the men just as hard a time. You have an extra element because you're attractive."

"And a woman," I added dryly.

He grinned. "That too."

A few minutes later, our waiter returned with a silver tray bearing two domed plates. He removed our salad plates with a flourish and placed the domes before us.

Michael gestured towards my plate. "I hope you like what I ordered."

With a mix of curiosity and anticipation, Morgan lifted the dome. My eyes widened in delight as I revealed Wagyu sliders and pomme frites on a warmed white china plate.

"No way!" I exclaimed, my face lighting up. "How could you know this is my favorite?"

Michael's smile was smug. "Erika might have mentioned it when we were having drinks a few weeks ago."

"Thank you," I said, my voice warm with genuine appreciation. "It looks so good."

"Dig in," Michael urged, checking his watch. "I have a conference call at two."

As we began to eat, I couldn't help but wonder about the implications of this lavish lunch and Michael's apparent interest in me. I pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on savoring each delicious bite, all too aware of the ticking clock and the return to reality that awaited us both.