Page 23 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
The emptiness was embarrassing, a reminder of how sterile my personal life had become. I lived off fast food, protein shakes, and sheer grit.
"Well, this explains your physique."
I turned to find her standing in the doorway, wearing one of my white dress shirts. It fell to mid-thigh on her frame, the sleeves rolled up to reveal her forearms.
She looked comfortable in my clothes, at home in my space, and the sight made something inside me full and satiated. Especially when she smiled playfully.
"I eat out most nights," I admitted, closing the refrigerator door. "The demands of the job don't leave much time for grocery shopping."
"Or cooking?"
"Or cooking." I chuckled.
She moved closer, and I noticed her feet were now bare. "We could order something. Thai food? Italian?"
Food was the reason she came, but I found it difficult to focus on mundane decisions about dinner knowing under that shirt, she was naked. The evening had taken turns I hadn't anticipated, and I was still adjusting to the shift.
"Tessa." I turned to face her fully. "We should talk about what's happening here."
Her expression grew serious, and she leaned against the counter. "Yes, we should. Because I can't let this destroy my career."
Her concern was valid. I'd seen promising careers destroyed by office gossip, had watched talented people lose opportunities because their personal lives became public entertainment.
But I had also seen potential wasted because people were too afraid to take risks that could change their lives.
"What if I told you this could enhance your career rather than destroy it?" I shut the fridge and leaned on it as the thoughts in my head started to organize themselves.
Tessa had way too much talent to not tap into it, for the benefit of Cross Capital, and for her own benefit.
Her eyebrows rose. "How?"
I moved to the island that separated us, placing my hands flat on the cold surface. "I see potential in you that others have missed. Your intelligence, your instincts, your ability to see patterns that escape other people. I want to mentor you, help you develop those abilities into something that commands respect in this industry."
"In exchange for sex?" Her eyebrow tipped up, and I cringed inwardly.
The bluntness of her question caught me off guard, but I appreciated her directness. "No, Tessa. Not in exchange for anything. The mentoring would happen regardless of what occurs between us personally. I am not in any way suggesting that. Alright?"
She sighed and crossed her arms under her breasts which made the fabric pull tight over her nipples, and it distracted me for a moment. "Then why bring it up now?"
"Because I want you to understand that my interest in you isn't solely physical. You have the capability to be extraordinary in this business, and I'd be doing you a disservice if I didn't tell you that." I paused, choosing my words carefully. "The physical attraction is separate, but I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a factor. I never would've given you a second thought if we hadn't made that really sketchy choice during the Christmas party."
As I said it, I realized how true my own statement earlier had been. Sketchy choices sometimes yielded amazing results. This was one of them. I could almost bank on it.
She was quiet for several moments as she chewed the inside of her cheek. "People will talk if they see you giving me opportunities. They'll assume the worst."
"People always talk. The question is whether you're going to let their assumptions dictate your choices." Again, I felt for her. She was right. People would talk, but I never let that stop me.
"Easy for you to say. You're not a twenty-six-year-old woman trying to prove she belongs in a male-dominated industry."
"You're right. I'm not." I moved around the island to stand closer to her. "But I am someone who's spent twenty years in that industry, and I'm telling you that talent rises to the top regardless of what people whisper in hallways. Your work will speak for itself."
"And if it doesn't? If people decide I'm sleeping my way to success?"
"Then they're idiots who don't deserve your attention." The vehemence in my voice made her eyebrows rise in surprise. "Tessa, you're brilliant. Anyone who spends five minutes talking to you about market analysis or strategic planning would recognize that. Don't let fear of other people's opinions keep you from reaching your potential."
She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face. "This is a lot to process."
"I know."
