Page 89 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
"I've been thinking about your future," I said, trying to bridge the gap I could feel widening between us. "About the MBA program you mentioned."
She turned her head to look at me, wariness creeping into her expression.
"I want to pay for it." I knew immediately as I said it that it was the wrong thing, but I couldn’t stop myself. "Full tuition,living expenses, whatever you need. You're brilliant, Tessa. You deserve better than making coffee and answering phones." Throwing things at her instead of telling her how I felt was ridiculous. But Tessa didn't want a man my age. She wanted a sperm donor and her young, independent life.
Her face went completely blank. "Is that what this is? Your way of buying me off?"
"No, that's not—" I sat up, running my hand through my hair. "I want to help you. If Daniel's going to diminish your role at Cross Capital, then we need to show them how serious you are about your career. And if you need something to fall back on, a degree would help you. We should?—"
"We?" She was sitting up now too, pulling the sheet around herself defensively. "There is no 'we' in this situation, Lucian. There's you, trying to manage another business problem."
"You're not a business problem." It stung and took the air out of my sails to hear how she thought I felt about her.
"Then what am I?"
I couldn't answer that. I sat rigid, like a deer in headlights, wishing Viktoria would have just kept her nose in her own business, that Blake and Elena would understand I have to move on and that life offered me a way.
I wanted to tell her everything.
That she was the reason I looked forward to Monday mornings instead of dreading them.
That her laugh had become the soundtrack to my happiness.
That I'd burn down Cross Capital and everything I'd built if it meant keeping her in my life.
But the words stuck in my throat, held back by twenty years of emotional walls and the fear that saying them out loud would make her run.
"You're important to me," I said instead, the understatement tasting bitter on my tongue.
She was already reaching for her clothes and showing how agitated she was. "Important enough to throw money at, but not important enough for honesty."
"Tessa, wait?—"
But she was dressing quickly, her back turned to me as she pulled on her skirt.
When she faced me again, I saw tears she was trying to hide.
"Please stay," I said, desperation bleeding into my voice. "We can talk through this."
"There's nothing to talk through." Her tone broke and trembled and it crushed my heart. She didn't seem angry. She seemed distraught, like this was killing her. "I know what I am to you, and I know what this is."
I reached for her hand, needing some connection, some way to stop the conversation from spiraling beyond repair. "You don't understand?—"
"I understand perfectly." She pulled away from my touch, and the rejection felt physical. "This is over, Lucian."
Her words were a knife to my chest. "What?"
"Us. This arrangement. Whatever we've been doing—it has to be over now." Tessa blinked back tears and slid her shirt on, and I sat gutted, sheet draped over my thighs. "We have to stop doing this."
She continued dressing, but I couldn't think straight to form a coherent answer.
I was just going to tell her I loved her, that I'd burn my world to the ground just to have her.
"You're forty-eight. I'm twenty-six. The age gap alone makes this inappropriate, but add in the power dynamic and it becomes indefensible." Her voice was gaining strength now, as if she were talking herself into this as much as me. "Your children hate me without even knowing who I am. Your ex-wife is using me as aweapon against you. The board sees me as evidence of your poor judgment."
"None of that matters?—"
"It all matters." She stopped, tears now streaming fully down her cheeks. "Your career, your relationship with your children, your reputation—you're sacrificing everything for what? Great sex with your assistant?"
