My Enemy's Daughter (Edited)

Chapter 10 (edited version)

**Fiona's POV**

"Please let it be good. Please! Please!! Please!!!" I whispered desperately into my empty room, unwrapping the package Mr. Fox had sent me.

After the disaster that was the last dress he picked out, I was praying this one wouldn't be a repeat. I mean, he did tell me to burn that previous horror, so surely, this would be an upgrade, right?

I tugged at the box, my fingers trembling. The first thing that caught my eye was the color-white. Could be a good sign? I hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the rest of the dress.

It was a delicate lace gown, ankle-length with a tiny belt designed to cinch the waist. Simple yet classy, and modest enough for a formal dinner. I let out a breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. Relief washed over me. He hadn't botched it this time.

My phone rang, breaking the quiet, and I groaned as I remembered I'd left it downstairs in the living room. I rushed down and fished it out of my bag, staring at the screen. An unknown number? Probably Mr. Fox. I hadn't saved his number yet.

"Hello?" I answered, still slightly breathless from my mini sprint.

"Hello, Miss Bruckner," came the voice on the other end. Scratchy, tired.

"Are you sick?" I asked, genuinely concerned.

"No, why do you ask?" The voice sounded puzzled.

"Your voice... it sounds different," I explained.

"Oh, just a bit hoarse from all the meetings," he replied casually.

I shrugged. "Okay."

"I was expecting to hear from you this morning, but since you didn't call, I figured I'd check in myself," he added.

I frowned. "Uh, why would I call you? I don't even have your number."

There was a brief silence. "Well, I assumed you'd get it from my secretary. But never mind that-aren't we supposed to confirm our plans for tonight?"

What? What did he mean by "confirm plans"? "We already made arrangements for tonight's party," I replied, mimicking his tone in an exaggerated way.

"Yes, but we didn't discuss the details-like the dress code," he replied smoothly.

"Wait... what? Didn't you just send me a dress for the party?" I asked, confusion growing.

"Why would I send you a dress?" he asked, sounding genuinely bewildered.

"For the party!" I yelled, my patience thinning.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause before he responded. "If you don't mind me asking... who do you think you're talking to?"

"...Mr. Fox?" I ventured cautiously.

"No, dear. This is Pastor Simeon from church," he said with a light chuckle.

I wished the earth would just open up and swallow me whole. Pastor Simeon?! I had just yelled at my pastor. My mind reeled, embarrassment flooding me. What was wrong with me? Ever since I'd started dealing with Mr. Fox, I'd become some kind of insult machine, always primed to bite back.

"I am so, so sorry!" I stammered. "I thought you were someone else."

"Yes, I gathered that," he chuckled softly. "And from the sound of things, this person gets on your nerves quite a bit."

"That's an understatement," I muttered, feeling my face heat with more shame.

"I was calling to check in about the youth event tonight. But it sounds like you're tied up with this party. Am I right in guessing you won't be able to attend?"

His voice held a teasing edge, making my heart sink even further. The youth event. I'd completely forgotten. I was the one who had organized it, after all, putting everything together so the young adults in our church could enjoy a night of fun and fellowship. And here I was, bailing at the last minute.

"No, I won't be able to make it," I admitted, feeling guilty.

"I see." He hummed in that knowing way he had, the silence that followed speaking volumes.

"I'll plan another event next month, I promise!" I added quickly, trying to smooth things over.

Another hum. Then silence.

"Pastor Simeon, I really am sorry," I apologized again, unsure of what else to say.

"Fiona, you don't need to keep apologizing," he said softly.

"I just feel irresponsible. I completely forgot," I mumbled, biting my lip.

"That's alright. But tell me, this Mr. Fox-who is he to you?"

"He's... just a client," I answered, a little too quickly.

"Just a client? You seem to have strong feelings about him," he noted.

"Strong feelings? No! He's just... annoying. A macho, egotistical man who thinks the world revolves around him." I found myself ranting. "He makes me run around doing all his bidding and never listens to anything I say!"

There was a long pause before Pastor Simeon gently said, "I asked who he is to you, Fiona, not for a list of his faults."

"Oh." My cheeks burned again.

"Think about it," he continued. "You've spoken about this man with more passion than anyone else I've ever heard you mention. Who is he to you?"

The words hung in the air, and I found myself at a loss. Who was Mr. Fox to me? Yes, there was some level of attraction-I'd be lying if I denied that. But that didn't mean anything... did it?

"I don't know," I finally whispered.

"You don't have to know right now. Just think about it. Perhaps next time I ask, you'll have an answer," he said kindly, chuckling as he did.

After a moment of silent reflection, he wrapped up the call. "It was good talking to you, Fiona. I hope to see you at the next fellowship."

I stood frozen for a moment after he hung up, still reeling from the conversation. What was that all about? Who was Mr. Fox to me?

Shaking my head, I pushed the thought aside. There was no time to figure it out now. I had a party to crash, and whether I liked it or not, Mr. Fox and I had to face whatever awaited us together.