Silver Fox Boss

SILVER FOX BOSS AN ENEMIES TO LOVERS SINGLE DAD ROMANCE ANNE MARTIN Copyright © 2023 by Anne Martin All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Cover design by GetCovers. CONTENTS 1. Brie 2. Brie 3. Jameson 4. Brie 5. Jameson 6. Brie 7. Jameson 8. Brie 9. Brie 10. Jameson 11. Brie 12. Jameson 13. Brie 14. Jameson 15. Brie 16. Jameson 17. Brie 18. Jameson 19. Brie 20. Jameson 21. Brie 22. Jameson 23. Brie 24. Jameson 25. Brie 26. Jameson 27. Brie 28. Jameson 29. Brie 30. Jameson 31. Brie 32. Jameson 33. Brie Epilogue CHAPTER ONE BRIE The bass around me thumped so hard I could feel it in my heart. The flashing lights of the Las Vegas club made it hard to see as I tried to focus on the massive champagne bottle in my hand. Gritting my teeth, I flicked the lighter trying to coax out a flame, and held it up to the sparkler protruding from the neck of the bottle. It took a few seconds, and I was beginning to think that the one I’d chosen was a dud when it finally sputtered to life. A feral grin tugged at my lips in victory. The people seated at the bistro table in front of me burst into applause as I held the bottle aloft, a shower of glittering sparks spraying around us. The club was sweltering tonight, and the heat rolling off all the bodies around us was pressing in on me. I was sitting at the table my coworker had just passed off to me. In the pulsing lights from the dance floor and the bright illumination from the bottle, I could see the people at the table were farther along in their night of drinking than I had been led to believe. With dread in my belly, I realized the girl on the edge of the booth closest to me was swaying drunkenly, her eyes closed. I needed to make sure she was cut off for the night. The sparks from the bottle died with a fizzle, and I took it out, passing around the glasses I had brought. I withheld one, accounting for the drunk girl now moaning beside me. The guests chattered excitedly as I poured the champagne into the glasses I set before them, not paying any attention to their friend, that was clearly struggling. As I poured the final glass, the patron on the other side of me chattered eagerly when I suddenly heard an all too familiar sound coming from my left. It took me a minute to realize what it was, and that split second that I took to wrack my brain and identify it made all the difference. I no longer had time to drop the bottle or bolt as the retching beside me finally registered. It all occurred so fast. One moment, the drunk girl's body spasmed, and I had only enough time to glance next to me when her blue eyes flew open in alarm, and her cheeks puffed up, filling with vomit as she lurched forward, spilling it down my side. There were gasps all around us, and I froze. My heart beat wildly as I felt the warm liquid seep through my small, black shorts and down my tights. The drunk girl slumped forward with a groan, her forehead meeting the table with a loud thunk. “I’ll just leave this here,” I said, doing my best to keep my voice cool and collected as I set the bottle down in the middle of the guests. Everyone at the table nodded earnestly, and a few muttered apologies as I turned and walked away, making a beeline straight for the employee bathroom so I could clean the contents of someone else’s stomach off of my hip. I was glad to find the bathroom empty. I turned on the faucet, grabbed as many paper towels as possible, and began scrubbing at my thigh with disgust. And the entire time, the only thing that I could think was that I desperately, desperately needed to get the hell out of Las Vegas. * * * I ran my fingers through my tangle of blonde hair, trying to smooth it down from the bun I had it in while I was in the shower. I took a shower last night when I got home from work, but no matter how hard I scrubbed, it was as if I could still smell the stench of the drunk girl's vomit on my leg—so I opted to scald myself once again. My wide, grey eyes looked tired when I glanced in the mirror, and I fought not to scoff at the reflection. I came to Las Vegas when I was eighteen, having run as far as possible from my hometown of Cedar Grove, California. It was a small town in the Northern part of the state, nestled snugly between beautiful rolling vineyards and picturesque mountains. It had a quaint, charming aura, and the fact that most of the people who lived there identified as some type of ‘hippie’ only added to the ambiance. Growing up there, it had always felt too small, too confined. It was the kind of place where everyone knew everybody else’s business, and they didn’t mind butting in to provide their opinions about it, either. But, after ten years in the City of Sin, I couldn’t help but feel nostalgic for the quiet life I’d grown up in. Stepping out of my bathroom with a heavy heart, I sighed and walked toward my bedroom. The pedestrian sounds on the street below floated up to greet me. Even with the window closed, it was still loud, and I rolled my eyes. At eighteen, this place had seemed amazing and