Page 4 of Knocked Up By the Silver Fox

Yes, Mr. Caldwell was actually very hot, probably one of the best-looking men in the city. He was wealthy and we probably had a lot in common. But I wasn't going to throw myself at him, and he was far too professional to even think of me like that. I resented the fact that my own sister felt he had hired me with only one thing in mind.

My phone dinged and I took it out, thankful I could avoid the conversation with Rachel for a few minutes. It was my emailtone, so I navigated to my inbox and saw it was from an email address I didn't recognize immediately, but it was my work email, so I opened it. I expected it to be something about the acquisition or perhaps a new project, but what I read made me frown and hide my phone from Rachel, who was looking over my shoulder.

Someone had sent me an email stating they believed I'd been promoted simply because I was sleeping with the boss, and that idea just put a stain on my whole week. I would never—could never sleep my way to the top. Getting a handout like that would do nothing for my career as a whole. I didn't want any position I hadn't earned through hard work and merit, and screwing the boss was the last thing on my mind. Given my sister's veiled warning, I felt it best for me to just shut up and work hard.

If people at work were already gossiping without knowing me or how hard I had worked, I wasn't going to be able to stop them. Rumors were just rumors. There was no proof. In fact, the first time I ever spoke to Mr. Caldwell in person was when he interrupted the meeting and called me into his office.

I'd heard that his nickname was the Silver Fox of Wall Street, but even though it had its sexual connotations, I felt no inkling that was the reason he requested me to work with him directly.

"You okay?" Rachel asked, nudging me again, and I shrugged.

"Yeah."

"Let's go eat ice cream and binge-watchThe Office," she said, and she slapped my knee.

That's just what I needed. To drown my frustrating thoughts in mindless entertainment. She always knew how to cheer me up, even if she was the one who brought me down.

"Yes, let's." I smiled at her and decided to ignore her comments and the email, and just enjoy the Friday at the end of my first week.

4

WILL

"Abigail you look stunning," I told my daughter as she stepped out of my limo at the school. The knee-length red dress and sparkly heels she chose looked amazing on her. She looked so much like her mother it was hard not to tear up as I held out my arm to her and waited for her to take it.

"Thanks, Dad," she said, smiling at me. Her manicured nails draped over my arm as she looped it through mine and we started walking toward the building. The school had gone all out, ordering a caterer and hiring an orchestral quartet to play. I was mildly impressed by it, but more so by Abby and how grown-up she looked. It was hard to believe she'd be graduating soon and heading off to college.

"So what awards are you getting tonight?" I asked her, trying to engage in some small talk. She'd had her phone out the whole drive and had her nose buried in it, so I took the opportunity to try to bridge some of the gap between us due to our busy schedules.

Abby started talking about her nomination and win for class president. All the while my eyes were taking in every person atthis place whom I thought might be a good prospective client. I listened, but I noticed Sebastian Sullivan and Derek Owens, two lesser-known but still famous actors. Their net worth combined didn't match mine, but everyone started somewhere. I could take their small investments and in a few years they'd be amongst the wealthiest celebrities on the East Coast.

"Dad, are you listening?" Abby said, and I smiled at her.

"Yes, dear. You're really excited about being class president to help make decisions for the spring formal." My reassurance that I could multitask and still understand and appreciate her brought a grin to her lips, and she continued babbling as we made our way inside and up to the bar, though I did turn to give her my undivided attention as we waited on our drinks.

"That's really great, honey. I'm really proud of you." Abby was growing up so fast and she was going to be such a brilliant leader someday. I might've been a very busy man, but one thing in my life never let me forget the importance of being a father, and that was her smile. I'd watched it vanish for far too long after Kate died. I'd do anything to keep it on her face now.

"Oh, Dad, this is Mr. Jones!" Abby gestured at a man I knew so well we were on a first-name basis.

"Harold, good to see you!" I reached my hand out and shook his and he beamed at me in pride. Our children shared many classes, which I learned as his investor. Abby didn't know we did business.

"You know him?" she asked, still smiling up at me, though she let go of my arm to take her drink from the bartender—a soda spritzer—and I grabbed my glass of wine.

"Yeah, Harold is one of my clients." I turned to him. "How are you doing?"

Harold glanced up at the stage where a few students and teachers were organizing chairs. "Meredith is getting nominated for honor society tonight. All is well." He chuckled and I couldtell he was happy. We always spoke of our hopes for our children to succeed. Honor's society at a private school was a big deal.

"Well, that's so good to hear." I pulled my hand back and sipped my drink.

"How's business? I heard you're making waves." Harold's question makes me feel a bit of pride swell in my chest.

"Honestly, we couldn't be doing better. We hired this new senior analyst who is simply amazing. She's smart and bold, and she got us in on that acquisition we spoke about a few weeks ago. Just incredible. I couldn't be happier. I should've hired her into this position years ago." My chest felt warm from wine and pride too. Elizabeth Reid had gotten under my skin as a boss, and I couldn't shake the positive expectation for our future. With brains like that on our team, we were unstoppable.

"That's amazing. I'm so happy to hear that. She must be a rock star," Harold said, and he glanced at Abby. My eyes followed his line of sight and Abby looked annoyed, but I didn't know why.

"She really is. The best talent I've seen in my career. Just stellar."

Abby huffed and pulled away, handing me her drink. "I have to go do the award now," she said, and she sounded even more annoyed than she looked.

---