Page 1 of Sexting the Silverfox

Chapter 1

Audrey

I’m going to be late for work, and it’s making me anxious.

This meeting was supposed to have happened over an hour ago, and while I do understand that Mr. Winchester is a busy man, he’s the one who insisted on dealing with The Emerald residents’ issues personally from the moment he acquired the hedge fund that owns my apartment building.

My heel taps nervously on the beige marble floor as I remain seated in the waiting area just outside Mr. Winchester’s office. His secretary appears stressed and abrasive toward anyone or anything that dares to interrupt her workflow as she taps away at the computer, so I’ve kept my interactions with her to a minimum.

As a kindergarten teacher, I’ve learned to pay attention to the details in human body language. From kids to adults, we’re all the same. Nervous tics. Fleeting glances. Flaring nostrils. The changes in one’s breathing pattern.

There are many ways in which our own bodies betray us, and I can tell that this lady is under a lot of pressure.

Her ginger hair is combed to perfection and pulled back into an elegant bun; her makeup is done in flawless nudes. She is wearing a sandy beige dress. Gold-plated bracelets jingle with each motion of her wrists. I’m quietly hypnotized by her long and nimble fingers, the red nail polish glistening under the soft reception lights, wondering when I’ll get a chance to paint my own nails. My students keep me so busy, and we often get our hands dirty with our daily activities that it feels like a waste of time and a waste of pricey nail polish at this point. I’m so busy watching the secretary’s fingers, in fact, that I don’t even notice the person coming out of Mr. Winchester’s office.

“Thank you,” the elderly gentleman in a grey suit says to the man inside. “I’ll be in touch with the next quarter’s reports, Jason.”

“Take care of yourself,” Mr. Winchester replies from his office.

I can’t see him from where I’m sitting, and I don’t register that it’s my turn to go in until the secretary’s fingers stop tapping, and I realize that she’s watching me with a mixture of curiosity and irritation.

“Oh, it’s my turn,” I say, half-smiling and with a flat tone, seeing as I’ve been waiting for quite a while. I don’t plan on letting that slide, either. Everybody’s time is valuable, not just Jason Winchester’s.

“Yes,” the secretary nods. “Mr. Winchester will see you now.”

“Thanks,” I shoot back and confidently strut into his office.

I find myself grinding to a halt in front of his desk, feeling like a lost deer in the middle of the freeway. I feel the secretary’s gaze drilling holes in the back of my head before the door closes behind me. I ignore it, though, because I’ve got enough to deal with right in front of me—Jason Winchester looks nothing like what I expected.

Even seated behind his desk, I can tell he is tall and massively built beneath his dark blue suit, which is tailored to flatter his broad shoulders and muscular arms.

His hazel eyes are bright, and his gaze is penetrating enough to make me feel naked and helpless. His silky, dark brown hair is on the short side but expertly styled. My fingertips tingle at the prospect of feeling his greying stubble along his chiseled jaw.

Jason Winchester is in his mid-forties and devastatingly handsome, with an authoritarian presence that dominates the entire room and makes my throat go dry as I suddenly realize I’ve been staring at him for quite a while as he watches me with a brow lifted in curiosity.

“Miss Smith, I presume?” he asks.

“Please, call me Audrey,” I instantly reply.

“Only if you’ll call me Jason,” he says.

“Jason.” I echo. The name rolls off my tongue smoothly.

What is it about this man that ignites my senses? I wonder.

I’m so shaken that I’m having trouble remembering why I came here in the first place. Finally, I come to my senses and speak: “Thank you for taking the time to see me, although I have to mention that this meeting was scheduled for an hour ago.”

Jason’s lips stretch into a subtle smile—something akin to a tiger in a jungle, salivating over its prey. “I do apologize for the delay. Ever since I took over The Emerald complex, my company has had to make some logistical and administrative shifts to make sure we’re handling everything better than the previous owners.”

“Nevertheless, to keep a person waiting an hour is bordering on disrespectful,” I reply, allowing Audrey the Assertive to surface, although I have no idea where she’s coming from—his heavy gaze causing the knot in my stomach to tighten. “I have enough experience dealing with The Emerald to deserve better from its owner, former or current.”

“All right then, please, have a seat. I’m listening.”

But nothing in his tone of voice changes. It’s still as cold and hard as his gaze as he scans me from head to toe, showing no sympathy for the fact that it’s a wintery hell outside and I had to make my way over here by subway in this freezing weather.

“Here’s the deal, Jason. I don’t care who bought the complex, who’s in charge now, or what your reasons are for keeping me waiting. What I do care about is that for the past couple of months, we’ve not had enough heat or hot water,” I tell him, my tone clipped with frustration. “I’m damn tired of taking cold showers. I pay a lot of money for an upscale apartment in the heart of old Chicago. The Emerald is supposed to be a premium complex, yet I’m freezing my ass off on a daily basis. It’s mid-winter in Chicago!”

“I see.”

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