Page 8 of Gentle Fox

"Because I still don't know what I want to do with my life. My stepmother liked to call me flaky and maybe she's right. I get bored after a few months and tend to move on to new things. But I've always supported myself. I lucked out with my apartment. It was only a studio, so the rent wasn't outrageous, considering the location. I was smart with my money. I preferred to hunt for deals and shop vintage rather than go to an expensive department store. I have a trust fund from my mother that I'veonly dipped into once despite getting monthly stipends from it. I'm the opposite of my stepmother and stepbrother. I think it's why they hate me so much."

"What did you buy?"

"Huh?" I turned in the passenger seat and looked at him. I had no clue what he was asking me.

"You said you only dipped into your trust fund once. What did you buy?"

Of course he thought I bought something. Wasn't that what all rich women did?

"I invested in my former nanny's new business. She dreamed of opening a restaurant, so I helped make it happen."

Patty was the closest thing I had to a mother figure after my own mother got sick. The last two years of her life were spent bedridden with cancer. If it weren't for Patty, I would've withered away with my mother. As great as my father was, business always came first.

"Oh."

It shouldn't surprise me to hear the shock in his voice. I'm used to people underestimating me. When your family’s net worth is in the billions, people tend to look at you differently.

"It's successful, by the way." The confused look on his face had me further explaining. "The restaurant she opened. It's successful and I don't take a dime from it. She wanted me to be a silent partner but I refused. It was my gift to her for all she did to help me through the worst years of my life."

Watching a mother slowly fade away would be difficult for anyone, but a ten-year-old? It was even harder. The first year they tried intensive chemotherapy but it was too late. The cancer just kept spreading from organ to organ over time. Just when they thought they had a handle on things, it would pop up somewhere new.

"I'm sorry about your mother and father. It sucks losing both of them." He sounded like he knew from experience, but before I could ask him more, we were pulling into a rest area.

We parked next to a lifted Jeep with no doors or roof.

"I can't see how driving down the highway in that would be safe." I nodded to the vehicle in question.

Owen chuckled. "I'll be sure to let Lex know you're worried about his safety."

My head whipped around. "Wait, that's your friend’s ride?"

A man with a long thick beard, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, and shaved gray sides walked over and leaned against the hood of the Jeep. He was sporting a denim shirt rolled up past his elbows and showcasing some serious arm porn. Those babies were stuff that romance novels were made of.

"Come on. I'll introduce you. Don't be offended if he doesn't talk much. It's not his style."

Owen wasn't kidding. After being introduced, the man barely gave me a chin lift before his attention was back on his friend. "We ready?"

"Give us five to use the facilities and then yeah, we can head out." Owen turned to walk away but then stopped. "By the way, Annalee here is concerned about your safety in that piece of junk."

I was pretty sure my face sported a shade of red that, given other circumstances, would've had doctors concerned. I was still trying to come up with a plausible reason we were talking about his vehicle when Lex showed off a net that I could only assume was his version of a door.

Owen chuckled and Lex merely looked bored as I hightailed my ass to use the restroom. I had a feeling we wouldn't be stopping often, so I used the time afforded to me wisely.

No further words were exchanged before we hit the road again. Just like last time, Owen barely spoke. Eighties rockbands blared through the radio, and at some point, the lack of conversation could no longer keep me awake. I fell asleep with thoughts of a new life on the horizon.

CHAPTER FIVE

Owen

I watched Annalee sleep for the better part of our trip like a creeper. I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting over her lean frame. She reminded me of a dancer and I knew for a fact she was never one, so maybe a runner? Either that or she was blessed with great genetics because women her age usually complained about their metabolism slowing down.

At least, my sisters did and I had plenty of them. Only boy out of six kids. To say I was outnumbered was an understatement. I was close to all my sisters but it was Gracie I spoke to the most despite the twenty-two years between us.

Speak of the devil.

My sister's name flashed across the in-dash screen with a text message.

GRACIE: Call me when you have a free moment. I need to discuss something with you.

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