Page 179 of The Silver Fox Brother

"Winter, please—"

"Get up." My voice is firmer now, but still calm. Still controlled.

"I love you—"

"Get up."

I pull my hand away from where he's trying to hold it. Then I turn and walk toward the exit. Behind me, I hear murmurs. Gasps. The sound of the orchestra starting up again, trying to cover the awkwardness.

I don't look back. I push through the doors and out into the foyer. I grab my coat from the coat check and rush down the front steps. A taxi is idling at the curb and I get in without hesitation.

"Greenwich Village," I tell the driver, giving him my address.

He pulls away and I sink back into the seat, my hands shaking.

What the hell just happened?

Twenty minutes later, I'm unlocking my apartment door when my phone starts ringing.

Kate.

I answer. "Hey."

"Oh my god, Winter, are you okay? I just saw the photos online."

I close the door behind me and lean against it.

"He ambushed me. I didn't know."

"The entire internet has seen it. It's on every gossip site. People are posting videos."

I close my eyes. "Of course they are."

"What did you say? Did you say no?" Kate asks, her voice sounding uncertain.

"I didn't say anything. I just left."

Kate is quiet for a moment.

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

We talk for a few more minutes before I tell her I need to go. I hang up and set my phone on the counter, then I walk to my bedroom and sit on the edge of my bed. The tears come before I can stop them. Not because Rowan proposed. Not because I'm embarrassed, though I am. But because his grand gesture—the flowers, the calls, the public proposal—only made me realize something I've been avoiding; I'm in love with Knox.

I'm in love with him and I don't know if he feels the same. He hasn't called. Hasn't texted. He's been in Boston these past days and I don't even know what happened or if he's okay.

Maybe Naples didn't mean to him what it meant to me. Maybe I'm just another woman in a long line of women he's been with. I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. I don't know what to do. All I know is that I can't stop crying.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Knox

I'm sitting in my hotel room in Boston on another night of my stay here, a glass of scotch in my hand.

The legal team has been calling all day with updates on the situation. The injured contractor is stable. OSHA's investigation is ongoing but preliminary findings suggest we might avoid any major blowback. Our insurance is covering the medical expenses and the family has agreed to hold off on filing suit while we work through the details.

It's progress. Not the resolution I wanted, but progress. I've been on calls with lawyers, adjusters, and safety inspectors all day. My head is pounding and the scotch isn't helping.