Page 6 of Filthy Rich Silver Foxes
“Then you did what you could. If he doesn’t hire you, that’s on him. Not you.”
I groan and pull the blanket tighter. The truth is, Idocare. Too much. Because this wasn’t just a pitch. It was an enormous opportunity. The kind of opportunity you don’t get twice. And I blew it big time. It’s a memorable kind of fuck up that he will never forget, and I will never live down.
My phone buzzes in my hand.
It’s an email notification.
Sender:Sebastian Wolfe
Subject:Luxuria Events Proposal
I jackknife up into a sitting position, almost taking Evie out in the process. She stumbles backward, arms flailing. My stomach drops straight through the floor.
No. No, it’s probably an auto-generated response. Or a lawsuit. Or a restraining order disguised as polite feedback. I stare at the email for a full thirty seconds before I finally tap it open, holding my breath the whole time.
Ms. St. Claire,
After reviewing your proposal, I’ve decided to move forward with Luxuria Events for the upcoming Elysian Cove Launch Event. Your attention to detail and creative approach align with the vision I have for this project.
The planning timeline will be aggressive. Expectations will be high. I don’t tolerate disorganization or excuses. If that’s acceptable, I’ll expect you toaccompany meto the island next week for a preliminary walkthrough.
My assistant will coordinate travel and accommodations.
– Sebastian Wolfe
I read it twice. Then a third time. Then a fourth, just to make sure I didn’t hallucinate it from the depths of my shame spiral.
I got the job.
Igotthe job.
My heart stops. Then accelerates to something completely unreasonable.
“Oh my God.”
“What?” Evie snaps. “What happened? Are you bleeding? Did your ex post something shady again?”
“He hired me.”
There’s a long pause. Then a shriek so loud I almost drop my phone in shock.
“I TOLD YOU! OMG, I knew it! I lit so many candles. I KNEW it would work!”
I should be elated. I should be proud.
Instead, my heart is racing for an entirely different reason.
Sebastian Wolfe just offered me the most important job of my career.
And wants me to fly to the islandwith him. Next week.
“Evie,” I whisper.
“Yeah?”
“I have nothing to wear that sayscompetent professional with a firm grasp on logisticsand alsototally unbothered by how hot you are in a tailored suit.”
“I’ve got you,” she says immediately. “We’re building a wardrobe. And a playlist. And possibly a new identity in case you fall into the ocean.”
