Page 1 of Eight Steps to Alpha

Chapter 1

Elliot Prescott walkedinto the bar, the hem of his oversized shirt halfway untucked, a briefcase slung over one shoulder, and his head pounding. The line ahead of him was so thick, he could barely see past the clique of college girls standing in line for the bathroom, but he shuffled his feet forward, moving toward the bar, where he gained a better vantage point.

“Where is she?” he muttered under his breath, craning his neck higher so he could see over the mass of people. Even at over six two, he struggled to find her. Tonight was Wednesday, which meant half priced appetizers and every seat in the house filled. It also meant they’d be there. This Wednesday and every Wednesday before it. He pushed his black framed glasses higher up on his nose and took a deep breath. If it was up to him, he’d be home now, in his PJ’s, playing video games, and forgetting about his hellish day. But Fe was adamant they meet tonight. Like always, to practice getting over her anxiety of large crowds.

Becca came toward him then, holding a tray of empties high above her head as she made her way to the kitchen.

“Ya seen Fe?” he hollered over a screech of laugher.

She didn’t stop, nor look up in his direction, but a slight jet of her chin gestured to the far corner of the restaurant.

Following her terse instruction, Elliot pushed his shirt sleeves higher on his forearms and found Fe sitting in a booth at the other end of the bar. Her headphones over her ears—even though he knew they played no music—her button like nose hidden behind her tablet, and her long, brown hair covering her face as she ignored the whole world reading her book.

There was something about her sitting there, all alone in that large booth, that tugged a grin right out of his mouth. She looked slightly disheveled, like she’d rapidly pulled a brush through her hair before leaving the house. She wore her “The book was better” t-shirt, with a flannel over top, but it was the look on her face which tickled him the most. Like she was reading something in public she probably shouldn’t.

Dodging tables and people, he made his way toward her and slid into the booth. She didn’t look up, didn’t give any indication she’d seen him other than the slight curve of her lip which showed off her dimple. It was enough. His shoulders instantly relaxed.

“You’re late,” she finally said without looking up at him. “Again.”

He loosened his neck-tie down a few inches, undid the top two buttons of his shirt, and set his briefcase on the seat beside him. He slouched lower in the booth, wondering which one of her stories had her so captivated tonight. “Well you don’t get noticed for leavin’ early.” he drawled out.

Her mouth curved in a lopsided grin as she regarded him with a smile. “Are we talking about your career? Or about the hot new boss you’re always jabbering about? I’m curious.”

He flopped his menu open on the table and analyzed here. “Career, I guess.” But then he thought better of. “Or maybe both.”

Glancing across the table, he took in the hazel eyes staring back at him. Mary Fisher was the new public relations manager at Fredric and Morgan’s. She was intelligent, tall, stunning, and no matter how hard he tried to impress her, she never seemed to notice him.

Shoving the menu to the middle of the table, he glanced away. Fe was smart. Everyone loved her, and he trusted her completely. “What am I doing wrong, Fe? Do I talk too much? Have an annoying twitch I’m not aware of?”

She scrunched up her nose, amused with the notion, but tilted her head as she dug through her purse. She produced a tube of lip-gloss, silently regarding him as she smeared it over her mouth. “You’re fiiine, Elli. You haven’t met the right girl, that’s all.”

He pushed himself higher on the seat and leaned forward. Fine? Was that all he was to her? Fine?

“I don’t get it. I work out, I’m smart, and I’m nice.”

“Humble too.” She nodded.

“But no matter how hard I try, I get nothin’.”

The server came toward them then, interrupting their conversation, which was fine by Elliot. The topic was starting to annoy him anyhow.

Glancing over the specials one last time, he took a breath, and placed his order. Burger, loaded fries, onion rings.

Normally, he didn’t let things like this bother him. Normally, he was the guy who went with the flow and didn’t complain, but work had taken its toll on him today. Life had taken its toll. Not only because of the acquisition which required every bit of his attention, but...

Determined to forget about the whole day, he glanced back at his best friend and set his jaw.

“Maybe you’re too nice,” she said to him. “Ever think of that?” Her brows were lifted high on her forehead, indicating how serious she was.

He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“To women, I mean. Maybe you’re too nice.”

He scoffed. “Is that even a thing?”

Her head tilted. “We are living in the era of the alpha male.”

He laughed, alpha male. But then he stopped, lifted his glasses, and pinched the bridge of his nose where it suddenly began to ache. “What? You want us to throw you over our shoulder, grunt?”

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