Page 103 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
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James
As the days ticked by, the void left by Hallie’s absence seemed to grow deeper within me. I threw myself into my work, hoping to find solace in the busyness that consumed my days. The constant ringing of my phone, filled with her voicemails and messages, only served as a painful reminder of the gaping hole in my life. Each time it buzzed, I felt that familiar ache in my chest, the weight of my conflicting emotions pressing down on me.
But deep down, I knew I couldn’t keep avoiding her forever. There were too many questions that needed to be answered. Part of me hoped I would wake up and these past few days would have been a dream—I’d roll over to see Hallie giving me a sleepy smile in my bed next to me. I needed closure to the questions that consumed my thoughts. But closure could wait. I wasn’t sure I was ready to face whatever truths closure would deliver.
Instead, I reverted to some of my old finance industry habits—getting to the office before the sun rose and leaving long after it set. Financial reports and investment strategies became my refuge, a temporary escape from the void that Hallie’s betrayal had carved inside me. Numbers didn’t lie. Algorithms didn’t leave. Their precision offered some semblance of control in a world that felt chaoticand unpredictable. It was the same remedy I’d turned to when Cassidy’s betrayal had cut me bone-deep.
Sebastian, being perceptive as always, noticed a shift in my demeanor. He still extended invitations for our regular rendezvous at Whiskey Locker, and my polite refusals weren’t anything to bat an eye at after I’d started dating Hallie. But he knew something was wrong when I’d declined his recent dinner invitation for Friday night.
He called me this morning, just as I was heading to work, his concern cutting through the usual sarcasm.
“Is there something big going on in the markets that I’m unaware of?” he asked after I’d picked up.
“No, why do you ask?” I replied, weaving through the crowd on the sidewalk as I hurried toward the subway station near my house. I opted for the subway most weekdays, saving my car for special occasions on the weekend. The fewer opportunities I had to rage at other New Yorkers on the road, the better.
“Because you’re working overtime, which hasn’t happened in months. Not since Rooster’s stock took a nosedive before Theo took over. So, if nothing big is happening at work, what’s going on?”
Car horns blared, brakes screeched, someone yelled something far too expletive for this early in the morning, and the scent of street meat mixed with exhaust fumes made me grimace. I caught sight of the food truck on the corner—the same one Hallie had covered on social media months ago. I’d only started frequenting it after stumbling across the review during my initial deep dive into who she was. Funny how quickly she’d infiltrated so many parts of my life, and now she was gone.
“Nothing’s going on,” I said, the words ringing as false as they sounded.
“I’m going to give you another chance to tell me the truth,” Sebastian replied.
I nearly pretended to lose connection with him as I descended into the subway. It wouldn’t be that far of a stretch, but faking loss of cell phone service and actually losing cell phone service were two different things.
“Fine,” I sighed, dropping down into one of the cracked plastic seats just before the train jerked forward. “The article for ‘Love on Wall Street’ came out on Wednesday.”
“Okay?” Sebastian drew out. “Like it does every week. What? Did Hallie tell the entire world that Mr. Old Fashioned color codes his suits?”
“No, Seb.”
“Then what’s the problem? Didn’t you take her to the pizzeria? I recall you telling me I couldn’t go last week because you were taking Hallie. Which we need to talk about. Having a girlfriend doesn’t mean you can ignore our relationship. Who am I supposed to take to Whiskey Locker when I’m trying to pick someone up, or who am I supposed to tell when Itakesomeone home?”
“These are truly life’s biggest questions,” I murmured, letting my head fall back against the cool subway window.
There was a pause, long enough that I knew Sebastian was reading between the lines.
“She didn’t screw you over in the article … did she?”
“I took her to the pizzeria.” Flashes of Hallie’s face as she met my family, joked with my grandfather, and tasted the pizzeria’s food for the first time played through my mind. What she wanted to do with the article, and whatwas actually published, were completely different. “I’m just going to send you the article. Hold on.”
I shot the link over to Sebastian and waited patiently for him to finish reading it.
Two girls sitting across from me, not much younger than me, clad in expensive leggings, were holding matching matcha lattes. They were giggling together about a date one of them had just gone on that hadn’t ended the way the girl had imagined. It reminded me of Hallie’s first column, “Overheard in NYC”. How she had sat in the subway, listening to the surrounding people divulge pieces of themselves for her to use.
Everything in this goddamn city had pieces of her in it I couldn’t ignore.
A low whistle came across the line. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah,” I sighed.
“Have you talked to her?” Sebastian asked.
“Not yet. I’ve actually blocked her number—for now,” I admitted, my voice low. “I just … I’m not sure I’m ready for a conversation.”
Like the voice of reason, Sebastian argued back, “But you don’t have the full story. Maybe there’s a reasonable explanation for all of this.”
