Page 35 of The Silver Fox Daddy

"Come in," I respond, keeping my focus on my laptop.

"I brought the reports you wanted," she says, handing me the stack of papers as she approaches my desk.

I simply take them without making any jokes or attempting to touch her like I normally would. I don't have the energy for it now.

Her presence lingers by my desk, waiting for me to say something. But all I truly desire at the moment is to be alone.

"Anything else you need?" she asks softly and cautiously.

"Yeah," I begin, noticing a glimmer of hope in her eyes that quickly fades as I continue, "Could you grab me a coffee?"

Her expression turns blank. She nods silently and turns away from my desk, heading out the door. I don't even allow myself to watch her walk away, redirecting my attention back to my laptop.

Was my behavior cold? Yes. But right now, I have too much on my mind to worry about it, especially when there's work to be done.

I can tell that Monica must have taken her time getting my coffee since she's been gone for a whole twenty minutes.

"That took a while," I comment as she sets the mug on my desk.

I shouldn't have said that. While I'm upset about certain things, I know Monica is dealing with her own issues the best way she can. However, the fact that she's my employee complicates things. I can't let my feelings for her interfere with my ability to lead my business.

"I'll try to be quicker next time," she responds sarcastically and with an insincere smile.

"I could do without the sarcasm," I tell her as I lift my coffee to blow on it.

I can see that Monica wants to say something witty in response, but she seems to think better of it. Instead, she gives me a curt nod before turning on her heels and leaving.

As soon as the door shuts behind her, I release a heavy sigh and rest my head on my desk. Instead of acting like a jerk, I could relieve my stress by fucking her right here on top of my desk. But that's not an option right now, so I need to get my act together.

Realizing that I can't dwell on self-pity for too long, I lift my head up and immediately resume scrolling through my emails, setting the reports aside to review later.

I manage to concentrate for about thirty minutes before the sound of my phone vibrating interrupts my focus. Tyler's name appears on the screen, indicating that I have received a text from him.

Opening the message, I read what he has to say.

How do you feel about blind dates? Maria has a friend I think you would like.

I let out a groan in response to the message. I understand that Tyler is just trying to be helpful, but I have no interest in him meddling in my love life. We're not teenagers anymore, and I've already had my fair share of dates, including a divorce. I think I'm good on the relationship front for now.

At the same time, I'm aware that Tyler has no idea that I'm already fulfilling my intimacy needs elsewhere, so every time he brings up the topic, it serves as a reminder that I'm actively deceiving him.

I think I’m good for now.

I quickly hit send on the message, knowing that it won't be the last time he brings it up. However, I hope it will at least get him off my back for the moment.

After sending one final email, I decide to review the reports that Monica brought me. As I flip through the pages, I become increasingly confused as the information doesn't align with what I expected. I was certain that we had made more money this year than what is indicated.

Finally, as I reach the first page, I realize that I'm looking at reports from four years ago. Although it may not be a grave mistake, I feel an instant surge of frustration that I just wasted five minutes of my time because of Monica's error.

Standing up, I take a few strides to reach Monica's desk. She glances over at me as I exit my office. I forcefully place the reports on her desk.

"These are from the wrong year," I inform her stoically, observing as she picks up the papers to examine them herself.

"I didn't realize. They must have been misfiled.”

"I don't care what happened. Just get me the right ones," I order her, my tone firm and direct. I turn around and head back into my office, slamming the door shut behind me. Standing by the door, I run my hands through my hair, realizing that I had been too harsh with her. It only adds to my frustration, knowing that my behavior might come back to haunt me.

I take a seat at my desk, trying to calm myself down while waiting for the new reports. Surprisingly, Monica doesn't take long at all, my anger apparently pushing her into high gear. There's another knock on my door, and I give her permission to come in.

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