Chapter 2
SADIE
Mornings at Holbrook Aviation were a ritual I’d perfected over the years.
Coffee in hand, I’d move through my office reviewing the overnight developments from our production floor, field the occasional query from our engineers about the Eco-Turbine’s implementation, and then, by one o’clock, I would slip away to my true passion project: the Holbrook Aviation Museum, the historic hangar turned exhibit hall Patrick had helped fund.
There, among the vintage planes and artifacts that told the story of flight’s evolution, I felt most at home.
But today was different. Today, Patrick wanted a joint media debrief in the conference room.
The Eco-Turbine had exceeded all expectations, and he was excited about the market response.
As I stepped through the glass doors of the executive wing, I couldn’t help but smile, thinking that maybe last night’s slight could be redeemed today.
“Morning, genius,” Patrick greeted, standing behind the head of the conference table with a steaming cup of coffee. He wore his navy suit today, the one that made his gray eyes stand out against the rich fabric. He rounded the table, pulling me into his arms for a brief kiss. “Sleep well?”
“Eventually,” I answered truthfully, the sting of watching Alyssa take credit for my work still fresh.
His brows drew together in concern. “Still thinking about last night?”
“Just hoping for better luck today,” I said, taking a seat at the table as the rest of our team filed in. There were smiles all around, genuine excitement for the future. And in the corner, sitting beside one of our newer board members, was Alyssa.
Her red lips curled into a smile as she caught my eye, and I could tell instantly she was in her element, her silk blouse tucked perfectly into her pencil skirt, not a wrinkle or stain in sight.
Meanwhile, my clothes, though professional, showed subtle signs of a morning spent overseeing turbine maintenance checks: a faint smudge on my sleeve and grease marks that wouldn’t fully wash from my fingers.
It wasn’t intentional. I never thought about my clothes the way Alyssa clearly did.
But as I settled into my seat, the subtle looks she exchanged with a few colleagues didn’t go unnoticed, as though she were silently judging me for daring to show up to a meeting with any evidence that I actually worked on the machines we were celebrating.
“We’re getting fantastic feedback from the commercial sector,” Patrick started, clicking through a presentation. “Production timelines are going to need acceleration to meet demand, especially given our current orders for the A-40 series.”
I leaned forward, ready to dive into the mechanical specifics, but before I could get a word out, Alyssa chimed in.
“You know, Patrick.” Her voice smooth was as honey.
“One thing investors kept asking last night was how we plan to integrate the Eco-Turbine technology with our existing defense contracts. We should really develop a narrative that addresses that. It would be good for our market position to show how our advancements serve multiple industries.”
I stared at her, irritation simmering low in my stomach. “Alyssa, that’s exactly what I’ve been working on. The adaptive propulsion system can be scaled up?—“
“Yes,” she interrupted smoothly, not even looking at me. “And the press release will emphasize the adaptability. We’ll want the technical specifications to back that up, of course, but the key is to present it as a seamless transition.”
My fingers clenched around the armrest of my chair, nails digging into the leather as I fought to keep my composure.
This was the pattern: Alyssa would listen to something I was planning, then rephrase it as though it were her own idea, packaging it in a way that made it seem innovative and strategic.
The worst part? No one else seemed to notice it.
“I can draft that press release, Patrick,” she added, her voice confident and professional. “Sadie’s already so busy with the production line adjustments. She shouldn’t have to worry about corporate messaging too.”
Across the table, Patrick gave her an approving nod. “Great. Make sure the team is looped in on the new defense angles.”
The meeting moved on, but my frustration grew.
Every time I attempted to discuss the finer technical points, Alyssa found a way to reframe the conversation, steering it back to branding, messaging, or “strategic positioning.” I sat there, biting back the sharp retorts threatening to spill out.
She had a way of making everything I said sound trivial, like my concerns were only about small details, while she handled the “big picture.”
Finally, after an hour of enduring her subtle but constant dismissals, I couldn’t stay silent any longer.
As soon as the meeting broke, I waited until the room cleared, leaving only me, Patrick, and Alyssa, who seemed to be taking her time packing up her notes.
I turned to Patrick, speaking just enough for him to hear.
“Can we speak privately?” I asked, trying to keep the edge out of my tone.
“Sure.” Patrick glanced between us, a slight frown creasing his brow. “What’s up?”
I waited until Alyssa finally exited, her heels clicking sharply down the hallway, before turning to Patrick.
“I don’t understand why you keep letting her do this, Patrick.
The Eco-Turbine is mine. It’s my design.
You saw me work for years on this. And yet every time there’s a chance for me to present my own work, Alyssa steps in and takes it. ”
His expression shifted, softening the way it always did when he thought I was being “emotional” rather than practical.
“Sadie.” He reached out to take my hand.
“It’s just corporate strategy. You’re the technical genius here.
Alyssa is helping us translate that to investors and the public.
Everyone knows it’s your work. You’re the brain of this company, sweetheart. ”
“But that’s not enough!” My voice rose before I could stop it, years of frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m tired of being the invisible force behind the scenes while she takes the spotlight. Why do I always have to be the one who works in the shadows?”
Patrick sighed, his thumb brushing over the back of my hand. “You’re overreacting. You know I don’t see it that way. The engineers and the board, they all know who’s responsible. Alyssa’s just handling the PR side, making sure people actually understand how brilliant you are.”
“It doesn’t feel that way,” I said, pulling my hand from his. “She’s crossing a line. She’s acting like she has more of a role here than she actually does.”
He hesitated, his gaze flicking toward the door where Alyssa had exited. “Look, she’s your sister, well, your stepsister. Maybe she’s just a little overexcited about being part of Holbrook. Try not to take it so personally. She’s helping the company, and by extension, helping you.”
“Patrick—“
“Trust me on this one. I’ll talk to her if it gets out of hand, but right now, I think she’s just doing her job.
And she’s damn good at it.” His smile returned, the one that usually melted away any irritation I felt toward him.
“Besides, you have better things to do. I need your head focused on the A-40’s final tweaks, not on press releases. That’s why you have a team.”
I didn’t argue further. I knew it was pointless.
Patrick couldn’t see it, or didn’t want to see it.
He loved the dynamic between us: me as the brilliant but introverted engineer, Alyssa as the charming corporate liaison who could smooth everything over.
I bit down on the bitter taste rising in my throat.
“I have to get to the museum,” I said, grabbing my bag, avoiding his searching gaze. “I’ll send the updates on the turbine efficiency before the end of the day.”
“Always my girl.” He leaned in, kissing me briefly, but I barely felt it. “Don’t work too hard.”
As I made my way through the building, my mind kept replaying the way Alyssa had sat there so confidently, steering the conversation while my contributions were brushed aside.
I’d been pushed into the background once again, the architect of the entire operation treated like some behind-the-scenes mechanic instead of the lead innovator.
The drive to the museum didn’t calm me as it usually did.
My fingers gripped the wheel tighter than necessary, the familiar route through Seattle’s industrial district offering little solace.
I put on music that usually helped, listening to one of my favorite playlists, but my mind was still stuck in the meeting.
By the time I pulled into the museum’s parking lot, my jaw was sore from clenching it so hard.
The museum was a place of refuge, my sanctuary away from the corporate politics at Holbrook.
Patrick had funded it as a gift, recognizing my passion for the history of aviation and my desire to share it.
It wasn’t just a museum; it was a labor of love, where I spent hours restoring and preserving the stories of the past, often alone or with a small, trusted team who shared my obsession with the craft.
I made my way into the office in the back, dropping my bag on the desk, and booted up my laptop.
There were emails waiting, but the thought of sifting through budgets and ticket sales for the museum didn’t hold my attention today.
My mind kept circling back to Alyssa, to the way she had smiled at me like she had already won.
How many more times would I let this happen?
How much longer would Patrick let her undermine me without realizing what she was doing?
And if he ever did see it, what would it mean for our marriage?
These questions nagged at me, turning my refuge into a cage of frustration.
“Sadie?” The soft knock at the door pulled me out of my thoughts.