Page 30 of Sly Like a Fox
Fair point.I’ve been so consumed with preparation for the gala that I’ve neglected everything else in my life, including the people who matter to me, but that’s my choice, not Fenton’s manipulation.
“Because I’ve been busy learning new skills, attending events, and building a relationship with someone I actually care about.When was the last time you saw me this happy?”
Chloe considers the question seriously, her expression growing thoughtful.“Never, actually.You do seem different.More confident and more...settled.”
“Exactly.So maybe instead of assuming the worst about Fenton, you could trust that I’m smart enough to recognize a good thing when I see it.”
She reaches across the table and squeezes my hand.“I do trust you.I just worry that you’re moving too fast with someone you don’t really know.”
If only she understood how much I actually do know about Fenton—not just his cover story but his real motivations, his pain, and his commitment to justice.I know him in ways most couples never achieve, even after years together.
“I know him better than you think, and I know myself well enough to recognize when something is worth fighting for.”
She frowns.“Fighting for?”
I realize I’ve revealed more than intended.The word choice suggests conflict or obstacles that don’t exist in normal relationships.Time to deflect again.“Figure of speech.I just mean that what we have is special, and I’m willing to work to make it last.”
She studies my face for another long moment before nodding slowly.“Okay.I can see you care about him.Just promise me you won’t lose yourself in this relationship, no matter how good it feels right now.”
“I promise.”I mean it, though not in the way she expects.I’m not losing myself but finding a version I never knew existed.
After Chloe leaves, I sit in the coffee shop reviewing our conversation and processing the emotions it stirred up.The truth is, I am falling for Fenton, and it’s complicating everything about our mission in ways I didn’t anticipate.
What started as a professional partnership has evolved into something deeper and more personal.I care about his quest for justice not just because it benefits me but because I’ve seen the pain behind his commitment.I’ve researched Anklor’s victims, read news articles about families destroyed by his corrupt business practices, and experienced genuine anger at the harm he’s caused.
This emotional investment in something beyond my own survival is new territory.For years, my focus has been narrowly self-interested, confined to earning enough money to pay rent, finding marks wealthy enough to improve my circumstances, and staying one step ahead of consequences.Now I’m caring about abstract concepts like justice and accountability.
The transformation is both liberating and terrifying.Caring about something bigger than myself means I have more to lose if we fail.
I walk back to Fenton’s apartment, noting how naturally I think of it as home now.I’ve been staying there most nights for the past two weeks, partly for operational security and partly because I sleep better in his guest room than I have in years.The mattress is sumptuous, but the sense of safety really soothes me.The arrangement started as practical since it was easier to maintain our cover if we’re actually living together, but it’s become something more significant.
Fenton is in his office when I arrive, surrounded by documents and computer screens displaying the intelligence we’ve gathered about Anklor’s organization.He looks up when I enter, and his expression brightens.“How was coffee with Chloe?”
“Complicated.She’s worried you’re going to corrupt my innocent soul.”I settle into the chair beside his desk as he chuckles, noting the new information he’s compiled.“What’s all this?”
“Final preparations for tomorrow night.Guest list confirmations, security protocols, and background intelligence on key targets.”He points to a series of photographs arranged on his desk.“We need to focus on these people from Anklor’s inner circle and the officials who enable his operations.”
I study the faces, memorizing names and relationships that could be crucial tomorrow night.There’s Judge Patricia Vance, who’s ruled in Anklor’s favor on multiple occasions, City Councilman Lorenzo Terella, whose campaign contributions show suspicious patterns, and Porter Kane, Anklor’s bear shifter head of security, who handles the violent aspects of intimidation.“Any changes to our approach?”
He looks thoughtful for a moment.“Minor adjustments.The guest list includes two couples from the charity circuit who know our cover identities from previous events.Having familiar faces there will help establish our credibility but also constricts us to what we’ve established.”
Over the past few weeks, we’ve attended six different social functions, building our reputation as Fenton Nielsen and Jenna Johnson, successful young professionals with philanthropic interests and expensive tastes.The performances have become increasingly natural as we’ve learned to work together, and they’ve also revealed how compatible we are beyond the operational requirements.
“Should we practice the introductions one more time?”
Fenton nods and stands, assuming the posture and expression he wears at formal events.I do the same, transforming from comfortable girlfriend to sophisticated socialite with practiced ease.
“Mr.Anklor, what a pleasure to finally meet you,” he says, extending his hand toward an imaginary target.“I’m Fenton Nielsen, and this is my fiancée, Jenna Johnson.We’ve heard so much about your work with literacy programs.”
I step forward with a brilliant smile, offering my hand with the perfect balance of confidence and deference.“Mr.Anklor, thank you so much for including us tonight.The cause is so important, and your commitment to education is truly inspiring.”
“Perfect,” Fenton says, dropping back into his normal voice.“Natural enthusiasm without seeming desperate for his attention.”
We run through variations of the scenario, practicing responses to different conversational directions and rehearsing the subtle intelligence-gathering techniques we’ll employ.The preparation is thorough and professional, but I’m distracted by the way Fenton moves, the way he thinks through problems, and the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention.
During one practice session focused on appearing naturally affectionate, I reach for his hand without thinking and realize I’m no longer acting.The gesture is automatic, genuine, and born from actual desire for physical connection rather than operational necessity.When I look at him with what should be performed adoration, the emotion behind it is entirely real.
The realization should alarm me, but instead it feels like a revelation.I’m not just playing a role anymore.I’m living it.I’ve been denying that for weeks, but why bother?I embrace the truth.I’m falling for him.
