The Overlooked Engineer

The hum of fluorescent lights and the gentle whir of computer fans filled the air as I stared at the clock on my desktop. 5:58 PM. 

Two more minutes until freedom. I drummed my fingers on my desk, my other hand absently twirling a strand of my mousy brown hair.

"Emilia! Got a sec?"

I jumped, nearly knocking over my "World's Okayest Engineer" mug. 

Mary Bee, my best friend and the marketing department's golden girl, was leaning against my cubicle, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Christ, Mary! Warn a girl next time," I said, clutching my chest dramatically.

Mary rolled her eyes, her perfectly manicured nails tapping an impatient rhythm on the cubicle wall. "Drama queen. Listen, we're going out tonight. No excuses."

I groaned. "Mary, I can't. I've got to finish this report on—"

"On the new wind turbine design that no one's going to read because it'll get buried under a mountain of corporate BS?" Mary cut in, raising an eyebrow. 

"Em, when's the last time you did anything fun?"

I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died on my lips. 

When was the last time? 

Between the endless reports, the late nights, and the constant pressure to prove myself in a sea of male engineers, fun had become a foreign concept.

"That's what I thought," Mary said, her voice softening. 

"Come on, there's this new club opening tonight. Club Enigma. Very exclusive, very mysterious. I managed to snag us some tickets."

I eyed her suspiciously. "How'd you manage that?"

Mary's laugh tinkled like wind chimes. 

"Oh, you know me. I have my ways." She winked, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of... something. Unease?

But it was gone as quickly as it came.

"Fine," I sighed, shutting down my computer. "But I'm not staying out late. Some of us actually care about our jobs."

Mary's perfectly glossed lips curved into a triumphant smile. "That's my girl. Now, let's get you looking less... engineer-y."

As we walked towards the elevator, a hush fell over the office. 

Alexander Kane, CEO of Trident Holdings and certified corporate Adonis, strode past us, his eyes fixed on some distant point. The air is undeniably thick with his presence.

"Good evening, Mr. Kane," Mary purred, her voice dripping honey.

Alexander's gaze flickered to us for a millisecond. "Evening," he muttered, before disappearing into his private elevator.

"God, what I wouldn't give for five minutes alone with him," Mary sighed as we waited for the regular elevator.

I snorted. "You and every other woman in this building. He probably doesn't even know my name."

"Well, maybe if you spoke up more in meetings—"

"I try!" I protested as we stepped into the elevator. 

"But every time I open my mouth, Johnson or Peters talks over me. It's like I'm invisible."

Mary's expression softened. "Oh, Em. You're brilliant. They're just intimidated by you."

I leaned against the elevator wall, suddenly feeling very small. "Yeah, well, being brilliant doesn't seem to count for much around here."

The elevator dinged, and we stepped out into the lobby. The setting sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. 

For a moment, I let myself imagine what it would be like to walk out of here for the last time, to leave behind the politics and the frustration and just... start over.

"Earth to Emilia," Mary said, waving a hand in front of my face. "Where'd you go just now?"

I shook my head, pushing the daydream aside. "Nowhere important. So, what exactly does one wear to a mysterious, exclusive club?"

Mary's grin was positively wicked. 

"Oh honey, you leave that to me. By the time I'm done with you, even the great Alexander Kane won't be able to keep his eyes off you."

I held my head back laughing at Mary's joke as she linked her arm through mine and steered us towards the nearest taxi, I decided that for once, I'd let myself get swept along for the ride.

...

"I look ridiculous," I muttered, tugging at the hem of the impossibly short dress Mary had squeezed me into. 

The fabric shimmered under the streetlights, catching every neon reflection like an oil slick.

Mary swatted my hand away. "You look hot, Em. Own it."

We stood in line outside Club Enigma, the bass from inside thrumming through the sidewalk. 

The club's facade was sleek black marble, no windows, just a single steel door guarded by a mountain of a man holding a tablet.

"I feel like I'm auditioning for a part in a bad spy movie," I grumbled, fidgeting with the ornate mask Mary had tied around my eyes. "What's with the masks, anyway?"

Mary's eyes glittered behind her own feathered creation. "That's the fun part. Everyone's anonymous. You could be dancing next to the mayor or making out with a movie star, and you'd never know."

I snorted. "Yeah, because that happens to environmental engineers all the time."

As we inched closer to the entrance, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb. 

The back door opened, and a man stepped out – tall, broad-shouldered, exuding an aura of barely contained power. Even with half his face hidden behind a simple black mask, there was something familiar about him.

"Holy shit," Mary breathed. "Is that—"

"Next!" the bouncer called, cutting her off.

Mary flashed him a dazzling smile, passing over our tickets. 

The bouncer barely glanced at his tablet before nodding us through. As the heavy door swung open, a wall of sound and heat hit us like a physical force.

"Remember," Mary shouted over the music, "tonight, you're not Emilia the overlooked engineer. You're whoever you want to be!"

With that, she disappeared into the writhing crowd, leaving me alone in a sea of masked strangers.