Page 10 of Sly Like a Fox (Romance Expected Dating Service #3)

By the next evening, I’m more mixed up than ever, restless and unable to concentrate on anything.

I try watching television, organizing my closet, and even attempting to read, but my thoughts keep returning to Chloe’s advice about taking risks and going after what I want, along with our shared kiss and him pulling away.

By 10 p.m., I’ve made a decision that’s either brilliant or completely insane.

I shower, style my hair in loose waves, and apply makeup with more care than usual.

Then I slip into my most expensive lingerie.

It’s pretty black lace I found still wrapped in original packaging at the thrift store and have been saving for a special occasion.

Over it, I pull on my trench coat and nothing else before sliding on heels.

If Fenton wants to take things slowly, it’s time to shake up his wary approach. Tonight, I’m going to find out exactly how interested he really is. After a bit of research to find his address, I’m on my way.

The ride to his building feels both eternal and too short.

My fox shifter instincts are on alert, cataloging every detail of my surroundings while my human brain questions the wisdom of showing up at a man’s apartment wearing only underwear and a coat.

Throughout, Chloe’s words echo in my mind to stop being scared and go for what I want.

The doorman smiles warmly when I ask for Fenton’s apartment number. “Good evening, Miss. Is Mr. Nielsen expecting you?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say with my most charming smile. “A belated celebration for his successful client presentation today.”

“How thoughtful.” He hesitates. “I should call him…”

“Please don’t.” I sound cool and composed as I up the wattage on my smile. “I really want to surprise him.”

He hesitates another second before nodding. “Go on up. His apartment is 1318.”

The elevator ride to the thirteenth floor gives me time to second-guess my decision approximately seventeen times, but by the time I reach his door, my determination has solidified. Whatever secrets he’s keeping, I’m going to crack through that cultured exterior and see what lies beneath.

I knock softly and call out, “Fenton? It’s Jenna.”

I hear movement inside, followed by his voice getting closer. “Jenna? What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you.” I adjust my trench coat slightly, ensuring the belt is secure while still hinting at what’s underneath.

The door opens, and his expression shifts through surprise, confusion, and something that looks like panic before settling on distant politeness. He’s wearing jeans and a gray T-shirt that emphasizes his lean build, and his hair is slightly mussed as if he’s been running his hands through it.

“I... thank you. That’s very thoughtful, but I’m not sure this is the best time—”

“Are you going to invite me in, or should I explain my surprise out here in the hallway?”

His eyes widen slightly as he takes in my appearance more thoroughly, noting the way my coat hints at very little underneath. After a moment’s hesitation, he steps aside to let me enter. “Of course. Come in. I was just...working on some things.”

I follow him through the main living areas, noting how elegantly furnished but impersonal everything feels. The place feels like a showroom or a hotel suite rather than where someone actually lives. “Working late on more database issues?”

“Something like that.” He seems flustered in a way I’ve never seen before, and it’s strangely endearing. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine? Coffee?”

“In a minute.” I move close enough to see the way his pupils dilate when I reach for the belt of my trench coat. “First, I have something to show you.”

“Jenna, wait—” He holds up a hand, his expression shifting to something that looks almost like alarm. “I need to... Let me just put some things away first. Work stuff. Client confidentiality, you know.”

He disappears down a hallway toward what I assume is his home office, leaving me alone in the living room. I hear him moving around, the sound of papers rustling and what might be computer equipment being shut down.

After several minutes of waiting, my curiosity gets the better of me. Following the hallway, I pass a bedroom and bathroom before hearing the distinctive hum of multiple computers coming from behind a partially closed door.

I push the door open slightly and peek inside.

The sight makes me stumble. This isn’t a home office.

It’s mission control.

The room contains an impressive array of high-end computers, multiple monitors displaying streams of data, servers humming quietly in custom-built racks, and sophisticated networking equipment that looks like it belongs in a corporate data center rather than a residential apartment.

The setup costs more than most people’s houses and definitely isn’t used for typical IT consulting.

Financial data scrolls across several screens, and I pick out bank records, transaction histories, and what appear to be account access logs for institutions I recognize.

Another monitor displays what looks like security camera feeds from various locations around the city.

A third shows lines of code I don’t understand but clearly involve accessing systems that probably don’t belong to him.

“Whoa,” I whisper, taking in the full scope of what I’m seeing. This is either the most elaborate home office setup in existence, or Fenton is involved in something far more complex and possibly illegal than technology consulting.