Page 9 of Sly Like a Fox
“Maybe I’m more adaptable than most bobcats,”he’d said when I mentioned his philosophy sounding like fox shifter thinking.
The comment had made me laugh, genuinely delighted by his quick wit.Most people either fear fox shifter abilities or want to exploit them.He seemed to appreciate them as simply part of who I am.
I pull into my apartment complex and sit in the car for a moment, the engine cooling as I think about his question:“What went wrong with those dates?”
I’d given him the sanitized version of men who wanted me to tone down my instincts or expected me to be a master manipulator.I hadn’t mentioned the married businessman whose wife had excellent aim with my own shoes weaponized against me or the tech executive who’d asked me to help him cheat on his taxes because “fox shifters are naturally good at that sort of thing.”
Fenton’s reaction had been genuine surprise, maybe even indignation on my behalf, like the idea of someone trying to use my abilities for their own gain actually bothered him.When was the last time someone was bothered by injustice toward me rather than frustrated they couldn’t be the one benefiting from it?
My phone buzzes again.This time, I check it.
Chloe:How did it go?Need ice cream therapy or celebration cake?
I consider my answer while climbing the stairs to my apartment.The date was successful by every measure that matters.Fenton is wealthy, interesting, and wants to see me again.He didn’t run screaming when I mentioned fox shifter abilities, and he seemed genuinely attracted to my intelligence rather than threatened by it.
So, why do I have this nagging sense that I’m missing something important?Impulsively, I decide to focus on the positive as I text her back:Definitely celebration cake.
She responds in seconds:On my way with supplies.Can’t wait to hear everything.
I unlock my apartment and flip on the lights, immediately feeling the contrast between Meridian’s sophisticated atmosphere and my modest living space.Walking through it, I head to my bedroom, where I change into comfortable pajama pants and an oversized sweater, washing off makeup while mentally reviewing the evening.
Fenton’s answers to my questions, his body language, and the way he sometimes paused before responding as if choosing his words selectively were all signs of someone with secrets.Most people have things they’d rather not discuss on first dates, but his secrets feel bigger than typical discretion.There was something almost...professional about his judicious responses, like he’d been trained or practiced to deflect personal questions without seeming evasive.
A knock at my door announces Chloe’s arrival.When I open it, she bounces in carrying a bakery box and wearing her brightest smile, her dark curls bouncing slightly.
“Okay, spill everything.Was he gorgeous?Charming?Rich enough to solve all your problems?”
I laugh at her directness.“Yes, yes, and potentially yes.”
“Perfect.Tell me everything while we eat cake.”
We settle on my small couch with plates and forks, demolishing what turns out to be chocolate cake with raspberry filling.I give her the edited version.Fenton was handsome, intelligent, and genuinely interested in getting to know me.The restaurant was incredible, the conversation was stimulating, and we’re going out again soon.
“He sounds amazing,” she says, licking frosting off her fork.“What’s the catch?”
I arch a brow.“Why does there have to be a catch?”
“Because you have that expression you get when you’re trying to figure out something.”
Her observation is uncomfortably accurate.She’s seen me through enough bad relationships to recognize when something’s bothering me.
“He’s very...sophisticated, as though he’s thought through every possible conversation topic and prepared appropriate responses.”
She looks thoughtful.“Maybe he’s just nervous.Some people over-prepare when they’re trying to make a good impression.”
“Maybe.”I take another bite of cake, considering.“Or maybe he’s hiding something.”
“Everyone’s hiding something on first dates.Bad breath, weird hobbies, embarrassing families… It doesn’t mean he’s a serial killer.”
She’s right.I’m probably overthinking because I’m not used to dates going this well.Usually by now, I’ve either been rejected for being a fox shifter or I’ve identified some fatal flaw that rules out long-term potential.Money only goes so far to counterbalance some of the issues I’ve encountered in various men.
“So when are you seeing him again?”
“He said he’d call.”Which reminds me to check my phone again.No missed calls or texts, but it’s only been two hours since we parted ways.“Hopefully soon.”
“This is so exciting.I haven’t seen you this interested in someone since...”Chloe pauses, fork halfway to her mouth.“Actually, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this interested in someone.”
The comment is enough to make me freeze for an instant.She’s right.My previous relationships have been deliberate endeavors with clear goals and defined parameters of getting close to wealthy men, charming them into taking care of me, and enjoying the financial security until they inevitably dump or disappoint me.
