Page 54 of Silver Fox's Christmas Scandal
Lucian had gone into those meetings believing they would dissolve into nothingness, but my research and strategic delivery of updated facts had salvaged the partnership, something that had Lucian and me celebrating afterward.
The sentiment seemed to not be shared around the office as thoroughly.
"That's wonderful. You've been traveling with him quite a bit lately, haven't you? The Boston trip, now Miami. Must be exciting to see that side of the business."
There was something in her tone—not accusatory, exactly, but probing.
As if she were fishing for information. I tried not to squirm under her scrutiny.
I knew it wasn't common for assistants to attend business trips with C-suite level executives, but Lucian was treating me like one of the team, one of his analysts.
"The client meetings require detailed preparation," I said carefully. "Mr. Cross values having support staff who understand the full scope of each deal."
Sarah nodded, but her expression remained calculating. "Of course. Well, it's great to see hard work being recognized. Not everyone gets that kind of… mentorship." That last word came out as bitter as the coffee in the staff breakroom, and I had to bite back my response.
After she left, I tried to focus on my tasks, but the conversation nagged at me.
The way she said "mentorship" felt like a stab at my ethics, as if Sarah suspected there was more to my recent responsibilities than professional development.
Of course, I knew there was, but there was no proof of anything outside of the real mentorship Lucian was providing for me. They were spreading rumors with no facts and it made me squirm because I knew the truth.
By mid-morning, my unease had solidified into genuine anxiety. Walking past the break room to deliver files to the CFO's office, I caught fragments of a conversation between two analysts from the investment team.
"—suddenly, she's sitting in on executive meetings?—"
"—went from answering phones to presenting to clients?—"
"—rapid advancement is suspicious, if you ask me?—"
I froze outside the doorway with my heart hammering. They were talking about me, dissecting my recent visibility in client meetings as if it was evidence of something inappropriate rather than recognition of that which I was capable.
Lucian would tear them limb from limb, but he wasn't here, and standing up for myself had never been my strong suit.
"—Cross has always been professional before?—"
"—but she's attractive, and he's been divorced for years?—"
"—wouldn't be the first time a boss got personally involved with staff?—"
I cringed inwardly as I listened. Maybe they didn't know details, but they suspected something beyond professional interest was driving my increased responsibilities.
It didn't matter how careful Lucian and I were "on the clock" if people were already drawing their own conclusions.
I forced myself to continue walking, delivering the files to Daniel with hands that trembled slightly.
The rest of the morning passed in a haze of paranoia, every glance feeling scrutinizing, every casual conversation seeming to carry double meanings.
At lunch, I met Jamie at our usual cafe three blocks from the office.
She was one of the few people at Cross Capital I considered a genuine friend, someone who'd started around the same time I had and understood the challenges of being a young woman in the intensely masculine world of high-stakes finance.
We met at the counter to place our orders but barely said more than a hello until we found a table that was unoccupied.
"You look stressed," Jamie said as we settled into our booth with salads and iced tea. "Everything okay?"
"Just the usual chaos. You know how it is." I opened the plastic container for my salad but had no appetite after the amount of nervous energy my body had been fighting all morning. "How are things in Marketing?"
"Busy. We're launching that new institutional client campaign next month." Jamie studied my face and didn't seem satisfied with my answer.
