Page 174 of The Silver Fox Brother

I run a hand over my face.

"Have we contacted his family?"

"Yes. They're at the hospital. Legal is handling communication but they want to speak with you directly."

Of course they do.

"What about OSHA?"

Fletcher grimaces.

"They're downstairs doing their inspection. Preliminary findings suggest we might not have followed proper safety protocols during the HVAC installation."

"Might not have or didn't?"

"Didn't."

I close my eyes. This is bad. I have pride myself on having virtually no incidents on my site for nearly all of the years that we’ve been operational. This will be very bad if we don't handle it correctly.

"Get me a full report on what happened," I say.

"I want to know every step of that installation. Who signed off on it? Who was supervising. Everything."

"Already on it."

"And I need to get over to the Lawyer’s office—now."

Fletcher nods. "I'll drive you."

The lawyer's office is twenty minutes away. I spend the entire drive on the phone with our legal team in NYC, our insurance company, and the project manager who oversaw the HVAC installation.

By the time we arrive, I have a clearer picture of what went wrong. The contractor we hired cut corners. Didn't follow the code. And one of my employees is paying the price. We spend hours looking at on site cameras and the incident reports.

By the time we leave, it's almost midnight. Fletcher drives me to my hotel.

"You should get some rest. Tomorrow's going to be long."

"I know."

I check into the hotel and go straight to my room. I pull out my phone and see a missed call from Marcus. Two emails from investors asking about the Boston situation.

Nothing from Winter.

I sit on the edge of the bed and stare at the blank screen. I should call her. But I'm exhausted. And honestly, right now, dealing with what happened in Boston is a welcome distraction from thinking about her. I set the phone on the nightstand and lie back on the bed.

Three days later and I still haven’t left Boston. OSHA completes their investigation and issues citations. We're facing fines and other blowback, if we can't prove the contractor acted independently. I spend mundane hours in meetings with lawyers, insurance adjusters, and safety inspectors.

Fletcher offers to take over so I can go back to New York, but I tell him I've got it handled. The truth is, being here is easier than being there.

Easier than confronting whatever is or isn't happening with Winter. Easier than dealing with Rowan. Easier than admitting that I might have already lost something I never really had to begin with.

My phone is on the table next to me, screen dark. I haven't called Winter. Haven't texted. She hasn't reached out either. Maybe Rowan was telling the truth? Maybe she did see him? Maybe she is going back to him? Or maybe she's just as confused as I am about what Naples meant.

I don't know. And right now, I'm too consumed with keeping my company from imploding to figure it out.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Winter