Page 14 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
As I watched him leave, I knew with certainty that Theodore Drake was cutting the head off the king, only to take the crown for himself. But not before leaving me with his sword to use for my protection.
“Your stop,” the cab driver barked from the front seat as the taxi pulled up to a Dumbo warehouse someone had converted into a nightclub. Lights pulsed inside, visible from the windows on the top floor. I wanted to beanywhere but a new club in Brooklyn on a Saturday night, especially because I was nearly done writing my Rooster piece for Monday’s market reopening. But I’d gotten an S.O.S. text about my cousin Brandon.
It was his twenty-first birthday, and I figured I was going to be walking into a fire in need of putting out. Instead, they ushered me to the VIP section, a gift from my father to his nephew. Brandon was surrounded by his degenerate friends with a hostess perched on his lap. Now I understood my uncle’s text message asking me to keep Brandon out of trouble.
“James!” Brandon hoisted an entire bottle of champagne in the air, his other arm wrapped around the waist of the hostess. “You made it!”
The bottle came dangerously close to smacking the head of his friend next to him.
“Woah, there!” Before any damage could be done, I snagged the bottle out of Brandon’s hand. “Maybe let’s keep the drinks on the table and out of the air.”
“You’re no fun when you’re sober. You know that, right?” Brandon looked at the hostess still perched on his lap. “Can you get my cousin a drink? He needs to catch up. You still drink Old Fashioneds, James?”
“I’m good—” But the hostess disappeared before I could wave her off. If I was going to have to babysit my drunk cousin, Old Fashioneds weren’t a luxury I could indulge in tonight. “Thanks.”
“Isn’t she great?” My cousin yelled over the sound of the thumping bass that was already rattling my eardrums.
“She’s something,” I replied, my voice already startingto grow hoarse from shouting to be heard above the music.
Brandon huffed out a laugh as he took another swig straight from the champagne bottle. “You’ve barely entertained a single woman that’s looked your way since Cassidy. It’s been over a year.”
Annoyance settled in the bottom of my stomach. “Is everybody counting or something? I’ll date someone when I’m ready and find someone that wants me formeand not my wealth.”
My cousin lifted his hands up in mock surrender. “I was only trying to look out for your happiness.”
A flash of the conversation I had with Hallie at last night’s dinner flashed into my mind. I had never had as much fun having meaningless conversation with a stranger through a dinner or getting to know her over dessert.
But if she’d realized you’re just another finance guy on Wall Street, she’d have dismissed you as arrogant and repulsive like the rest of them.
“I can handle myself.” As I leaned back in my seat, I remembered the fiery conversation I’d heard about between my father and his brother yesterday as I stopped by my parents’ apartment. “What’s going on with the restaurant? Dad seems tense lately.”
Brandon wiped a dribble of champagne off his chin, his eyes glossy with too much alcohol. His dark eyes—just like our dads’—carried that typical Rossi fire and he had the same sharp features that I did. We were often mistaken for brothers rather than cousins. “Uncle G and Dad sat down last week to look at this year’s projections based on the current traffic the restaurant has seen so far thisyear. It’s not looking good. With the price of goods going up and fewer customers coming in the door, Dad thinks we have a year tops before we go under.”
The full Old Fashioned now in my hand was looking more appealing with every word Brandon said.
“It’s that bad?”
“Well, you’re off wearing your fancy suits and managing billions of dollars. I would guess he wouldn’t want to bother you with our menial family problems. Besides, what do you care? You’re the only one who doesn’t help at the restaurant. Even Emilia comes in on the weekends when she isn’t studying for some test or playing volleyball.”
That jab stung. It wasn’t lost on me that my younger cousin, with his Rossi features and his reckless enthusiasm, had put in more hours at the restaurant than I had. Even his younger sister beat me in that regard, and she was still in high school. But making pizzas and cleaning tables had never been my dream.
“Hey, Brandon. Just because I’m not slinging pizzas every night doesn’t mean I don’t care about our family and its legacy.” I took a swig of my drink, nearly downing half of it to take the edge off the conversation—and the music that seemed to be shaking my skull. “An argument tonight won’t get us anywhere, and it certainly won’t help our dads. I’m not here to fight.”
Brandon sighed dramatically, leaning back in his chair with the bottle in hand. “Can I give the restaurant a lump sum?” The question felt ridiculous coming out of my mouth while my cousin was on his way to being wasted.
“Sure,” Brandon shrugged. “The restaurant would use it. But that still won’t solve the issue. We need to get morecustomers in the door. I’ve suggested concentrating on social media, but you know how our parents are. They think that it’s a waste of time and wouldn’t work. What we really need is the pizzeria to go viral.”
Brandon might have been young and dumb, but he was on to something. Money wouldn’t solve the problem outright. It would just prolong the inevitable. The only solution was to make the restaurant a New York City staple. It might have been my younger cousin’s idea, but I knew I had to be the one to figure something out to avoid my family’s legacy being taken away.
5
Hallie
As I walked through the doors ofSophisticateon Monday morning, I hit post on a new review to my social media page. A taco truck had opened on my usual route into work, and I knew it needed to be featured the second that chorizo hit my tongue.
One of my favorite things about reviewing food was how it could change lives. It’s the universal love language that everyone understands. Despite our differences, we all know when something has an explosion of flavors or delivers a warmth that settles into our souls. When the food is good, it’s made as a labor of love. People that delivered delicious food like that deserved to be celebrated, and I knew that sometimes that recognition could change their lives forever.
“Hallie, have you got a plan for your first finance bro article?” Anthea breezed past my desk wearing a deep purple power suit that let everyone know she meant business. I swiped out of my account and dropped my phone down on my desk, trying to buy myself a few seconds to collect myself.
