Page 41 of Ruined by My Ex’s Dad (Silver Fox Obsession #2)

His expression shifted, surprise giving way to a look of relief. "And here I thought I was being admirably accommodating."

"You're being suspiciously perfect, which makes me think you're gritting your teeth behind that accommodating smile." I stepped closer, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I don't need perfect. I need real."

"Real would be admitting that seeing your coffee mugs in my cabinets physically pained me," he confessed, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Progress!" I laughed. "Now we're getting somewhere."

His arms tightened around me. "This is new territory for me, Savannah. I've never shared my space. Never compromised on how I live."

"I know." I pressed a kiss to his jaw. "And I appreciate how hard you're trying. But remember what I said from the beginning—I need partnership, not subservience. Your opinions matter too, even about something as trivial as coffee mugs."

He nodded, understanding dawning in his eyes. "So if I said I'd prefer to keep the kitchen cabinets organized by function and size...?"

"I'd say that's perfectly reasonable, as long as you don't expect me to alphabetize the spice rack."

The tension in his shoulders eased slightly. "And if I mentioned that shoes scattered through the hallway make me slightly homicidal?"

"I'd say a designated shoe area is a fair compromise." I tilted my head, studying him. "See how easy this is when we're honest?"

"Suspiciously easy." He pressed his forehead to mine. "I keep waiting for the catch."

"The catch is that sometimes we'll disagree and neither of us will get exactly what we want. That's what compromise means." I pulled back slightly to meet his gaze.

"And sometimes, one of us will have to concede to something that's deeply important to the other, even if it seems trivial from the outside."

His expression grew serious. "Like what?"

I hesitated, then decided honesty was essential if we were going to make this work. "Like the fact that I'm keeping my apartment for now. I know you'd prefer I didn't, but it matters to me to maintain that independence."

A flash of something—disappointment, perhaps, or confusion—crossed his features before he masked it. "I've already agreed to that."

"You've conceded to it," I corrected gently. "But I know it bothers you."

He was silent for a moment, clearly weighing his words. "It feels like... a contingency plan. A way to ensure you have an escape route."

"It's not about escape," I said, choosing my words carefully.

"It's about identity. While I was with Miles, I lost pieces of myself trying to fit his vision of who I should be.

I promised myself I'd never do that again, even for someone I love.

" I placed my hand over his heart, feeling its steady rhythm.

"The apartment isn't about not trusting us.

It's about honoring a promise I made to myself. "

Understanding dawned in his eyes—not just intellectual comprehension but emotional recognition. "Then keep it. For as long as you need."

The simple acceptance, without further argument or manipulation, meant more than he could possibly know. This was the man I'd fallen in love with—capable of setting aside his own preferences when something mattered deeply to the person he cared about.

"Thank you." I pressed a kiss to his lips, sealing the moment.

As we prepared for bed, sliding between those pristine sheets that would undoubtedly become less perfectly pressed as I invaded his space, I found myself reflecting on the day's adjustments.

We were both navigating uncharted territory—Lucas learning to share control, while I learned to assert boundaries while still embracing connection.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand. A text from my assistant at Alder West:

Reynolds from Turner Holdings called AGAIN about the Westlake campaign. Says he needs final approval before Friday. Mentioned "direct line to the top" three times. How do you want me to handle?

I sighed, showing Lucas the message. "This is starting already."

He read it, brow furrowing. "Reynolds is overstepping. The campaign timeline was clearly established last month."

"It's not about the timeline," I said.

"It's about testing boundaries. Seeing if dating the boss gives him direct access to expedited service."

Understanding dawned in his expression.

"How do you want to handle it?"

The question—so simple, so significant—demonstrated exactly how far we'd come.

Not offering to intervene.

Not taking over.

Just acknowledging that this was my domain to manage.

"I'll deal with Reynolds myself," I said. "But this is just the beginning. Your employees, your board, your business associates—they're all going to be watching, testing, probing for weakness or favoritism."

"Let them watch." Lucas settled against the headboard, looking more relaxed than I'd ever seen him in this bedroom.

"We have nothing to hide."

"Easy for you to say. You're the one with the power in this dynamic, at least professionally." I set my phone aside, turning to face him fully.

"I've worked too hard building my career at Alder West to have it reduced to 'Lucas Turner's girlfriend's company.'"

His expression grew serious. "What do you need from me? To make sure that doesn't happen?"

"Professional distance in business contexts," I said immediately.

"No interference, no special treatment, no shortcuts. When I'm working with Turner Holdings, I need to be treated exactly like any other consultant."

"Done." He nodded with no hesitation. "Anything else?"

"I need to maintain my own client base beyond Turner projects. I can't allow your company to become my primary revenue stream. That creates dependencies I'm not comfortable with."

Again, he nodded without argument. "Reasonable."

"And I need you to back me publicly when people inevitably suggest I'm sleeping my way to success.

" I held his gaze, needing him to understand.

"Not by defending me—that would only reinforce the perception of dependency—but by consistently acknowledging my professional accomplishments on their own merits. "

"I can do that." He took my hand, his expression thoughtful. "Have you considered the advantages this arrangement could bring to Alder West? The connections, the expanded client base?"

"Of course I have. I'm not naive about the benefits of being associated with you professionally." I squeezed his hand. "But those benefits come with risks I need to manage carefully."

"Such as?"

"Becoming dependent on your influence. Being seen as successful only through connection rather than merit.

Losing existing clients who view me as compromised.

" I listed them methodically, having given this considerable thought.

"And most importantly, the risk of our personal relationship affecting my professional judgment—or yours. "

He studied me with new appreciation. "You've thought this through."

"I've had to. Women in business always do." I settled against the pillows. "Every relationship comes with professional implications for us in ways men rarely have to consider."

Lucas was quiet for a moment, absorbing this. "I hadn't considered it from that perspective."

"I know. That's part of your privilege." I said it without rancor, simply stating a fact. "Just like I haven't had to consider how dating someone half my age might affect board confidence in my decision-making."

He winced slightly. "That particular complication has crossed my mind."

"I bet it has." I traced patterns on his hand with my finger. "We're breaking conventions, Lucas. That comes with consequences neither of us can fully anticipate yet."

We lay in silence for a few moments, the weight of these considerations settling between us. Not as barriers, but as realities we would navigate together.

"Would you like me to speak to Reynolds?" Lucas finally asked. "Not to intervene on the timeline, but to establish clear boundaries about your position?"

I considered this, weighing professional pragmatism against independence. "No. This is something I need to handle on my own. The minute you step in, you undermine my authority."

He nodded, accepting this without question. Another small victory in our evolving dynamic.

"But," I continued, "we should discuss how to approach the Turner Holdings board meeting next week. That will be our first official appearance together in a business context since the gala."

"What do you suggest?"

"Professional distance. Formal address. No indication that we're anything but CEO and consultant." I outlined my thinking. "And I should present the Westlake campaign results alone, without you in the room."

His eyebrows rose slightly. "That's unusual protocol."

"Which is exactly why it's necessary. We need to establish that our relationship doesn't grant me special access or your special influence." I held his gaze. "I need to stand on my own in that boardroom, Lucas. Not as your partner, but as Savannah Blake, marketing executive."

The request clearly surprised him, but he considered it with the same thoughtfulness he brought to business decisions. "The board might interpret my absence as disinterest in the project."

"Then make it clear beforehand that you're removing yourself specifically to maintain ethical boundaries." I leaned closer, emphasizing my point. "This sets a precedent, Lucas. How we handle these early interactions will define the professional landscape we operate in going forward."

He was silent for a long moment, and I could almost see him working through the implications, weighing options with the strategic precision that had built his empire. Finally, he nodded.

"You're right. I'll inform the board that I'll be recusing myself from direct oversight of projects involving Parker Media." His eyes met mine. "Satisfied?"

"Impressed," I corrected, leaning in to kiss him. "That couldn't have been an easy concession for Lucas Turner, CEO."

"It wasn't," he admitted. "But it was the right decision for Lucas Turner, partner."