Page 11 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
I hesitated for half a second before placing mine into his. His fingers curled around mine—firm, warm, sure. A shiver zipped up my spine.
“Hallie.”
“How do you know Michelle?” James asked me as he picked up the bottle of wine in front of us. “Would you like some?”
“Please,” I told him. He poured a glass for me, then one for himself, as if this was just a dinner party and not a moment that had completely knocked the breath out of my lungs.
Was the bar really that low, Hallie?
“My best friend and roommate,” —I gestured toward Roxie— “is Michelle’s art gallerist.”
James glanced over at Roxie, who had now garnered the attention of our entire half of the table, except for the two of us. “Ah, yes. Michelle loves her art.”
“How do you know the Grangers?” Somehow, I was keeping up a conversation with him without flubbing my way through it. I wasn’t sure if I’d gained a newfound sense of confidence or if it was the way he was giving me his full attention, like he truly cared about what I had to say.
“I went to college with them at Princeton.”Definitely from a different world than me.
While I was sure that he had gotten into Princeton on a legacy admission, I had gotten into NYU through a grant they gave out to those who couldn’t afford to go there without help.
A group of waiters appeared to deliver the first course of the night and the table’s conversation turned to quiet murmurs about the food.
“Dear lord, I need five of these,” Roxie groaned across the table as she finished the last bite of her tiramisu.
I laughed at my friend as I savored the last bite of mine.
“I think I may sneak a few home in my jacket pockets,” James added, and I laughed.
We’d spent the past hour bantering back and forth about each course—comparing notes on flavors, debating wine pairings, swapping favorite restaurants in the city. He actually knew what a millefeuille was and had passionate thoughts on duck confit. It was … fun. Easy. Like we were two people enjoying dinner together and not two strangers from entirely different worlds.
Every time our eyes met, there was that unspoken something—an energy, a spark. It wasn’t loud or overwhelming, but it was there. I could almost picture him asking for my number by the end of the evening, or suggesting we go for a drink afterwards—anything to keep the conversation going.
“Oh, wait! Hallie, we should toast to you!” Roxie lifted her glass a little unsteadily. Everyone else around us was caught up in their own conversations.
“Toasting for what exactly?” James asked, lifting his own glass and glancing at me with that same quiet intensity. His gaze was a heat lamp, and I was wilting under it—in the best way.
Before I could be self-deprecating, Roxie swooped in—knowing that I would never admit my successes myself. “Hallie was just offered a feature piece at her job,” she stage-whispered. “She’s a writer atSophisticate.”
James looked genuinely impressed. “Wow, I didn’t know I was sitting next to a rockstar.”
It was a simple compliment—like something someone would say to be nice—but the way he said it, like he actually meant it, made something flutter low in my belly.
“What’s the article about?” He shifted his entire body toward me. His thigh brushed mine beneath the table. He didn’t move away.
“It’s about her trying to find thehottestfinance guy on Wall Street,” Roxie interjected, grinning proudly.
James’s expression shifted, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “Really?”
“It’s stupid, really,” I hurried to tell him, feeling the need to explain why I had agreed to the project.
James’s smile softened. “Why?” he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.
I shrugged, suddenly feeling a little defensive, like I had to explain myself. “I’m just trying to write something that’ll get me closer to my real goal—becoming the food critic forSophisticate.”
The shift in his gaze was subtle, but I noticed it. A quick, thoughtful pause. Then, he leaned in a little, as if to hear more. “So, you’re doing this … to get your dream job?”
“Exactly.” I studied my wineglass, trying not to sound too self-conscious. “It’s not about the dates or the guys. I’ll probably never actually date them. They arenotmy type. Couldn’t be further from it actually. I just need the piece to get my foot in the door.”
James chuckled. “Please, you must tell me what you find so repulsive about men in finance.”
