Page 56 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
His children suspected something.
Maybe his ex-wife had heard rumors. Maybe the entire Cross family was discussing my inappropriate relationship with their patriarch.
The thought made me physically ill. I was closer in age to Blake and Elena than to their father.
If they saw me as a gold-digger or an opportunist, could I really blame them?
From the outside, the situation probably looked exactly as ugly as they imagined—a young employee leveraging her proximity to the boss for personal and professional gain.
The age difference never bothered me when we were alone together, when it was just Lucian and me and the connection that felt so natural despite the gap in our experience.
But in the harsh light of office gossip and family disapproval, the twenty-two years between us felt overwhelming.
His children were barely younger than me. His ex-wife had probably been my age when they started dating.
The shame that washed over me was crushing. I'd let myself believe that what we shared was special, meaningful, worth the professional risks and personal complications.
But maybe I'd been deluding myself. Maybe I was exactly what everyone suspected—a naive young woman who'd confused lust with love and professional opportunity with genuine affection.
By five o'clock, the office had mostly emptied, but I remained at my desk, unable to face the prospect of going home to my apartment where I'd have nothing to do but replay the day's humiliations.
The uncertainty about Lucian's meeting with Elena gnawed at me, along with the growing belief that our arrangement—whatever we'd been calling it—was approaching its inevitable end.
He'd never made me any promises. We'd never discussed the future beyond vague mentions of my career development.
I'd been foolish to hope for more, foolish to let my feelings deepen into something that felt dangerously close to love. The smart thing would be to start preparing for the end now, before the gossip became unbearable or his family forced his hand.
The problem was, I didn't want it to end.
Despite everything—the whispers, the judgment, the impossible complications—I wasn't ready to give up the connection we'd found.
I'd almost given up hope that it would last anyway, but the possibility of losing it now, because of external pressure rather than natural conclusion, made my chest ache.
I finally gathered my things and headed home as the sun was setting.
My apartment felt cramped and shabby compared to the luxury hotels where Lucian and I had spent our stolen moments together.
Mochi greeted me at the door, weaving around my legs and purring, and I scratched behind his ears while trying to shake off the melancholy that had gripped me.
I was heating leftover Chinese takeout when my phone rang. Mom's name appeared on the screen, and I considered letting it go to voicemail before guilt made me answer.
"Hi, Mom."
"Tessa! Perfect timing. I was just telling Frank I'd like to come visit."
The idea of her coming made my body feel like I was carrying a ton of lead. "How are things going with him?"
"Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. He's taking me to Key West next weekend—can you believe it? At my age, being swept off my feet by a man who actually knows how to plan romantic getaways." Her laugh was bright, and I felt a pang of envy for her uncomplicated joy. "Which reminds me, when are you going to find someone nice and settle down? I worry about you up there in Chicago, working all the time with no social life."
I hated how she always brought this topic up, but this time, she didn't even waste time pretending the call was about something else. "I'm fine, Mom. My career is important right now."
"Your career won't keep you warm at night or give me grandchildren. You're twenty-six, honey. You need to start thinking about these things."
"Actually, Mom," I heard myself say, the words spilling out before I could stop them, "I am seeing someone."
The lie surprised me as much as it surprised her. I hadn't planned to say it.
I hadn't even been thinking about fabricating a relationship.
