Silver Fox - Unedited

2 || An Unorthodox Proposal

You've finally gone off your rocker, chica, Fabiana thought bitterly, spearing a julienned green pepper and biting into the roasted fruit delicately. Her carbonara sat messily in her plate, the food half gone, courtesy of her ravenous hunger.

She hadn't wanted to admit it at first, but the strange Mr. Farrow had great taste. He'd taken the liberty of ordering for her—which she'd protested at first—and quickly silenced any ill will she might've had toward him with a simple "a refined woman such as yourself can only dine on the best of the best. This restaurant has the best carbonara in Houston, Miss Miracruz. I promise you won't regret eatin' it."

He was right.

Fabiana also had to admit to herself that she'd enjoyed his company. Besides being obviously arrogant, he was also witty and had a dark sense of humour which she caught a glimpse of a few times. She found herself laughing at things he said, and pretty soon she felt as comfortable as she could feel with a man she'd met not even three hours before.

What's more, the strange tugs she felt in her lower belly whenever he smirked at her or chuckled, or even raised his eyebrow. Her entire body almost spasmed when he ran a thumb over the corner of his plump mouth and sucked the sauce off of it. She realised—much to her surprise and dismay—that she was feeling desire for another human being.

First time for everything, huh?

And the flirting. Dios, the flirting. The man was a regular Casanova, and for the first time in her entire life, Fabiana had found herself at a loss of words and thanking all the virgins for her dark skin because it hid her ferocious blushing.

This is what it feels like to be a normal, sexual human being, Fabiana.

She hated it.

"So what inspired you to become a prosecutor?" Mr. Farrow asked, cutting into his steak. Like a true southern man, he'd ordered himself steak and mashed potatoes with coleslaw.

"I was born in Panama, and raised in a very neglected area of my country. Gang violence was predominant where I lived and I remember thinking to myself as a child that I'd do whatever it took to make the world safer for kids like me to sleep at night." She shrugged nonchalantly and twirled creamy pasta around her fork. "When I moved here with my mother, I decided to make those dreams a reality."

"When'd you move here?"

Fabiana eyed him cautiously, trying to read him to see if she could answer freely without the fear of prejudice. After a few seconds, he looked up from his steak, and the look in his eyes was so free of malice that it floored her.

"I—uhm—I was nine," she stuttered, unable to tear her eyes away from his. She felt compelled to reveal another secret that she had only dared whisper to herself in her dreams. "I want to run for public office once I have enough rep. South Texas needs help."

"That it does," he nodded his agreement. "Would you ever go back to your country?"

She nodded slowly, and twirled her pasta some more. "Perhaps when I retire. When my father died, his family shunned us from their wealth and name, so for now, I don't have anything or anyone waiting for me there. Besides that, I grew up here. This is all I know now, but I want to help my province in the future."

"What about your mom's family?"

"They shunned her when she married my father." Fabiana sighed deeply. "Both sides of my family are cattlemen, like yours, but they were rivals. My father's side basically ran my mother's side out of business."

"And that's why they both shunned her," Mr. Farrow finished knowingly. She nodded. "Business is a cruel master."

"Mhm. I'm glad I didn't grow up with them. I was happier for it." She looked up at him after biting into her food, watching as he continued cutting into his well-done steak with ease. "What about you? What made you decide to step so far out of the family business?"