Page 10 of Unleashed

There was a pause on her end, then she asked quietly, “Are you going to look?”

“Not yet,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping. “Abbott is expanding. There’ll be more openings for supervisors soon. If I don’t get promoted next time, I’ll have to leave.”

“Well, good luck with that,” she said, her voice brightening again. “I’ve got to run—my laundry is in the dryer downstairs, and apparently, there’s a panty snatcher going around.”

I blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly,” she replied, her voice dripping with mock seriousness. “And if I catch the little prick, it won’t be pretty.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Good luck.”

“Toodles!” she chirped.

“Toodles to you,” I said with a grin as I hung up the phone.

I set my phone down on the nightstand and let out a long breath, staring up at the ceiling. Erika always knew how to lift me up, even if just for a little while. But the weight of the day, of everything, still hung around me like the rain outside. Doing nothing was supposed to feel restful, but somehow, it just made everything harder.

As the clock ticked on and the storm raged outside, I lay there, tossing and turning, sleep slipping further out of reach until well past 1:30 a.m.

CHAPTER 3

Iyawned 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 gotthe 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 pleadingwith 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.”

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