Page 7 of Gentle Fox

"I appreciate it."

Nothing more needed to be said. My boss might not like that our soon-to-be new receptionist came with some problems, but Mav would never leave anyone in trouble. It wasn't in his DNA.

It wasn't in any of ours.

CHAPTER FOUR

Annalee

An hour and a half.

That was how long we had been driving for.

Want to know how much of that time was spent in conversation?

Zilch.

Zero.

Nada.

Owen hadn't spoken a word to me the entire drive and I was too damn proud to open my mouth first. I wasn't thrilled we were headed to Texas, and I didn't exactly agree to it.

I didn't exactlyargueeither after Owen pointed out that my father probably knew what would happen and wanted me safe. All my life I assumed he was ignorant to the ways of my stepmother and stepbrother but maybe that wasn't the case. Or at least, not at the end. Something had to have happened for him to suddenly change his will. I just wish he would've spoken to me about it, rather than sending me a cryptic note. It was hard to be prepared when I had no idea what to expect.

"We're meeting up with one of my teammates here shortly."

"He speaks!" I gasped. "And here I thought you suddenly went mute."

Sarcasm was my default when I was uncomfortable, and right now, I was about as uncomfortable as one could get. Owen had the nerve to laugh at my expense.

"I figured you would enjoy some peace and quiet. I see I was wrong. I'll make a note for the future."

I crossed my arms and flopped back into the seat. I didn't know what to do with Owen. He was attractive and that irritated me. If I had to guess, I would say mid-fifties. If I googled the term silver fox, I’m sure his picture would pop up. And it would be one with that damn hidden dimple popping out. I first noticed it when he smirked at me but it was glaringly obvious when he laughed. The scruff on his face did a good job of hiding it most of the time but twice now I was gifted with its appearance. And that only made him more attractive in my book.

"Quiet is overrated," I mumbled under my breath.

I was essentially an only child, my stepbrother notwithstanding. I was thirteen when my father met Seraphina and Dennis was seventeen. Up until they moved in, I was on my own. My father traveled a lot and was busy with work. My mother was great but as a young girl I wanted other children my age to play with. That rarely happened. Then Seraphina came into our lives and the attention I was used to from both my mother and father disappeared. My stepmother felt a nanny should raise me or I was old enough to do things on my own. She only ever acknowledged me when she needed something.

"What made you choose Willow Creek?"

I was grateful for the change of subject, and the small talk.

"I wanted the opposite of where I grew up, so I searched small towns in Texas. Willow Creek was the second place to pop up. I visited their website and saw all the pictures. Iimmediately fell in love with the vibe they gave off and wanted to visit the different places on Main Street. I saw the listing for the receptionist position and figured, what could it hurt? I was qualified."

"You mean you were overqualified."

I lifted my shoulder in response. It wasn't like I needed to work. I could've lived off the inheritance my mother left me. I didn't need what was in my father's will. But the thought of sitting around, doing nothing day in and day out, didn't appeal to me. I looked forward to keeping myself busy.

"If you say so."

"Pretty sure a master’s in applied economics makes you overqualified to answer phones and schedule meetings."

I blew out a long breath because what I was about to say was going to make me sound like the spoiled rich kid I technically was. "I didn't get my master's because I loved the field of study. I was bored. I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life, so after I got my bachelor's degree, I continued on. I'm good with numbers." Then I corrected myself. "No, actually, I'm fantastic with numbers and economics came easy to me, so I figured why not. I haven't used my degree since I graduated college over seventeen years ago."

"How come?"

That was the million-dollar question and my answer would only further make me sound snooty.

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