Page 26 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
"Nonsense," he said, sinking onto the corner of his desk as he let his eyes wander for the first time. They landed on my chest where a bit too much cleavage was currently showing, then his gaze flicked back up. "We'll take the company car and meet out front in thirty minutes."
I walked out with a skip in my step, and this time, it wasn’t because of Lucian. I was genuinely excited to have this opportunity.
The restaurant was everything I'd expected—elegant, expensive, intimidating.
Crystal glasses caught the light from massive windows overlooking the city.
I'd never eaten anywhere this upscale, and I tried not to gawk at the elaborate floral arrangements and pristine white tablecloths.
Lucian ordered wine without consulting me, and I was surprised he was drinking on the job. But he knew what he wanted, always, and that confidence was magnetic.
For the first hour while we snacked on appetizers and received our dinner, we discussed market strategies, valuation methods, and risk assessment.
His questions were probing, challenging, designed to test my understanding.
I found myself leaning forward, energized by the intellectual stimulation. This was what I'd been craving.
The chance to prove my capabilities went beyond scheduling meetings, answering phones, and making coffee.
"You have excellent instincts," he said as he cut the last few bits of his fish. "Most people see numbers and stop there. You see the story behind them, the human element that drives market behavior."
"I've always been interested in the psychology of investing. Why people make irrational decisions even when the data suggests it's too risky."
"Exactly. That understanding is what separates good analysts from exceptional ones." He paused, his eyes fixed on mine. "I have a business dinner tonight with potential clients from Tokyo. Join me as my junior analyst." His hands folded on the table in front of him, and while I knew this was a business thing, It felt very personal.
A rush of adrenaline gave my heart a jolt, though I tried to keep my expression neutral. Opportunities like this didn't just appear.
Lucian was offering me something that as an assistant, I shouldn’t have. But I didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty accepting it. "That sounds like an excellent learning opportunity."
"Seven thirty at Eleven Madison Park. Wear something professional but memorable. These clients appreciate attention to detail."
I felt giddy inside, and it probably showed on my face too, but he called for the check, just as professional now as he'd been in the office.
My heart was on cloud nine for the rest of the day until I overheard things I didn't think I was supposed to and it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
I was organizing client files near the copy machine when voices drifted from around the corner. James Ellery and another senior associate whose name I couldn't remember were discussing something in low tones.
"Did you see how Cross took his assistant to lunch?" James's voice carried a note of speculation that piqued my curiosity. Lucian and I had been very careful, so hearing them talking about me had me on edge. "She's getting awfully cozy with the boss."
I almost scoffed audibly. I knew the truth was that Lucian and I were crossing lines, but we'd been nothing but professional in the office.
These men were trash talking without any reason to suspect things. It was my worst nightmare, and that made it all the more difficult to stand there listening, but I couldn’t walk away without knowing what they'd say.
"My friend at Goldman said their assistants never get that kind of access," the other man replied. "Fancy restaurant in the middle of the day? Something's definitely going on."
My hands stilled on the files. They were talking about me, about my lunch with Lucian. The professional façade we thought we'd maintained had already attracted attention.
"I mean, look at her," James continued. "She's attractive enough, and Cross has been single for years. Wouldn't be the first time a powerful man mixed business with pleasure."
"Dangerous game for both of them. The board doesn't tolerate that kind of scandal, especially not with everything else happening with the Henderson acquisition."
Their voices faded as they moved away, but I remained frozen by the copy machine, my heart hammering against my ribs.
I had been nothing but professional, yet somehow, people were already talking.
What would happen when our arrangement progressed?
When we started spending more time together as he mentored me?
