Page 52 of Unleashed

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.

CHAPTER 11

It had been a week since I started working at Elliott, and it felt like I was balancing on a tightrope. Today was Friday, and I hadn’t seen Slade since last weekend. His business trip to the west coast had us only exchanging brief conversations late at night, his calls always cutting into my early bedtime. But he’d be home tomorrow, and I was eager to see him.

Working with Michael had been a strange experience. At Abbott, things were professional and distant. Here, it was different. He took me to a few job sites this week, always hovering nearby like he was afraid something would happen to me. Yesterday, one of the carpenters bumped into me by accident, and Michael nearly snapped. The poor guy apologized immediately, but Michael shot daggers at him the rest of the day. It was reassuring that he cared, but the intensity was... unnerving.

Now, as I packed up my desk to leave, thoughts of my dad’s worsening arthritis clouded my mind. Tomorrow, I’d drive upstate to visit him and Mom at their assisted living facility. I was stuffing papers into my bag when Michael appeared at my desk.

"Want to grab a drink?" His voice was casual, but there was a hint of something else. Something that made me pause.

Across the room, Brian and Stanley, two of my new coworkers, exchanged knowing glances, smirking. My skin prickled, and unease settled in the pit of my stomach.

"I should head home," I said, keeping my tone light. "I’ve got a lot to do, and I’m visiting my parents tomorrow."

"Upstate?" he asked, a touch too interested.

"Yeah."

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