Silver Fox

Cassie Mint

Silver Fox

First published by Black Cherry Publishing 2022

Copyright © 2022 by Cassie Mint

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

First edition

ISBN: 978-1-914242-95-3

Cover art by Cormar Covers

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
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One

Kara

The only warning I ever get is the whir of the elevator. It’s sleek and almost silent, perfectly built like everything else in this building, so I keep my ears trained for the slightest whisper; for that ten-second warning when the golden elevator light begins to glow, racing through the floors.

I don’t play music. Don’t put in earbuds or hum as I work.

I like to know when he’s coming.

Not because I’m scared of Galen Onasis—which is kind of funny, because everyone else definitely is. When he prowls the lower offices, glancing over shoulders at computer screens and pulling managers aside, the air is so thick with trepidation, you’d think our boss is a bonafide tyrant.

He’s not, by the way. At least, not to me.

Though ever since I became Galen Onasis’ executive assistant three years ago, Human Resources has insisted on monthly meetings with me, just in case. They sent me a special holiday card last year, with a handwritten note to ‘Reach out anytime!’, as though Galen has me trapped up here like a princess in her tower.

When I pass the HR team in the halls, they stare at me like they’re waiting for a secret signal—for me to blink twice or tap S.O.S in morse code on my thigh.

They’ll be waiting a long time, because I’m no damsel in distress. I love being up here with Galen. Sometimes, when the sun shines through the huge skylights and low-lying clouds hug the skyscrapers, it feels like we’re in our own private world.

This morning when the elevator hums, I glance across the office, my reflection staring back at me in the shiny silver doors: a wide-eyed girl with a pressed peter pan collar, my thin bracelets clinking as I arrange my boss’s breakfast on his desk.

Black coffee with a small jug of milk on the side. One pink grapefruit, halved, with a sharpened spoon. A glass of room temperature water, and three vitamin supplements laid out ready.

Guess this explains how Galen looks like that, even as silver threads through his brown hair and bleaches his temples. The man’s a Greek statue. A pin-up model. He’s just so disciplined about everything, his toned muscles testament to how hard he works in all areas of his life, and setting out this severe breakfast every morning makes my chest pinch.