Page 10 of My Silver Fox Savior

“I didn’t stand a chance,”she told me once.“He was so much more experienced. He’d seen so much more of the world …”

After going into the bathroom to clean myself up, I promise to keep Mom’s words, the importance of staying focused on my career, and the fact there are so many years between us at the forefront of my mind.

CHAPTER SEVEN

LANDON

“What’s all this?” Ethan asks the following day when he walks into the office to find me intently studying a noticeboard I’ve covered in printouts.

“The Bear is owned by a man who has never owned any previous businesses, has a clean police record, and has never been in any other trouble. Except he’s a childhood friend of Damon O’Connell’s.”

“Right …” Ethan puts his briefcase on his desk and prepares for the day. “The Bear is that bar?”

“Damon O’Connell is the patriarch of an Irish mob family,” I go on.

“The mob?” Ethan says, his tone suddenly taut. “That pro bono work hasmobconnections?”

“Damon O’Connell,” I say, ignoring the disgust in his voice, “has been seen in public with two separate cartel leaders, both of whom have been known to dabble in using children either as drug mules or … worse.”

I can’t say the second bit, and Ethan doesn’t need me to. He steeples his fingers and stares at me coldly across the office. “You realize we’ve got a day full of meetings booked from …” He checks his gold watch. “Now until seven p.m.”

“Yeah,” I grunt.Not years, months. The doctor’s office called me again this morning, but I let it go to voicemail. I’ll have to face this at some point, just not right now. “So what?”

“So … is your head in the game? I don’t need to use the M-word with you, do I?”

He says it in his usual bantering way. For a couple of years, that has been our catchphrase. Whenever we’re working late nights or frantically trying to get our next task done, we’ll look at each other and say, “Millions, brother, millions …” That’s what we’re dealing with these days, but it seems so hollow suddenly. Or maybe it always did, and this news dragged my true feelings out. Still, I’ve got a responsibility. I can’t leave him in the lurch.

I force a smirk on my face. “Nah, no need. Let’s do this.”

He smiles, clearly relieved.

I take out my phone and shoot off a quick text.What are you doing tonight? I won’t be able to meet until around 8, but I have some news about The Bear.

Her reply comes quickly. That makes me even more confident she’s got no clue about the romantic angle—the desire that initially triggered my texting. If this were even a bit romantic, surely she’d wait before texting me back as petty revenge for me leaving her onreadfor so long.

Instead, she writes,News about The Bear? I can’t wait to hear it!

And I can’t wait to see her. I’ve got months, not years. Months to follow my desire. Months finally toseizewhat I want instead of thinking, “There’s always tomorrow.” Not for me anymore.

I can pick you up,I reply.

“You sure you’re good?” Ethan asks me toward the end of the day as we’re both getting ready to leave.

“I’m fine,” I grunt. “We did everything we needed to.”

“I know.” He sighs. “Two years we’ve been working on that settlement. We finally get the all-clear today and then nothing.”

The phraseall-clearbrings to mind my other news.

“You know we can talk,” he says as he packs things into his briefcase. “If something’s wrong …”

“I’m fine,” I tell him. “Really. Let me know if I seem off in meetings, and I’ll make adjustments.”

He sighs again. I’m purposefully looking down at my desk so he doesn’t read me, but I can feel him staring at me from across the office. I can sense all the things he probably wants to say. I’m not usually the most cheerful guy around, but I’m never a buzzkill. I’m always able to hide any bad moods which grip me.

“Okay, brother,” he says. “Well … see you tomorrow.”

Walking out to the parking lot, I listen to my latest voicemail. “Mr. Cross, it’s of the utmost importance that we schedule this specialist appointment as soon as possible.”

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