Page 16 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
“Can I get you a refill?” Mark asked me.
“Please, a Riesling,” I told him, suddenly thankful to be sitting in silence once more. Without the article looming over me, there was no way I’d even let this guy get me a drink, never mind be hoping he’d ask me out on a date. I would probably pass out from boredom before we even shared a kiss. Maybe this assignment was going to be harder than I’d originally planned.
A few of Mark’s friends patted him on the back as they walked by, their eyes glancing back toward me and Roxie. One friend hiked his head in our direction before making his way over, smiling at Roxie.
“It’s about damn time,” she huffed. “I look way too good to not get at least a little flirt in tonight.”
“Maybe switch to an espresso martini,” I suggested. “Nudge me if you hear me snoring over here.”
“Oh, please. I have no plans to let this man talk about work.” Roxie fluffed her dirty-blonde hair before turning on her megawatt smile. It was mesmerizing watching Roxie suck the poor guy into her vortex, charming him like a snake whisperer.
He doesn’t even know what’s coming for him.
I glanced back toward Mark to see where he was at with my glass of wine, only to find him wrapped up in a conversation with someone eerily familiar.
Tall.
Dark.
Handsome.
Unmistakable blue eyes that I could see from here.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
James caught my eye over Mark’s shoulder and gave me a quick wink—like we were in on something together, even though I had no idea what it was. Then he turned his attention back to who I hadhopedwould be my first potential date and cuffed him on the shoulder as if they were old friends.
The bartender placed my fresh glass of wine before Mark, who was now fully distracted by James.
Of course.
After James had vanished from Michelle’s dinner party without leaving so much as an email address or social media handle, part of me wished to never cross paths with him again. That he’d just be another blip in a long string of strange New York encounters. But now, here he was, standing in front of the one person I’d made an effort to connect with tonight, siphoning off his attention with a wink and a pat on the back.
Why was he evenhere? This place wasn’t exactly known for its moody cocktails or understated charm—it was packed wall-to-wall with Patagonia vests and high-yield egos. The kind of bar where the drinks were overpriced, and someone was always bragging about Series C.
I pushed away from my seat, catching Roxie’s eye foronly a second. She was fully immersed in her conversation, effortlessly commanding the attention of the man sitting next to her. She had that gift—blending in effortlessly, like she belonged wherever she landed. It was a trait I envied. I always felt like I needed an instruction manual just to get through a conversation with a stranger.
Roxie’s eyes slid from mine to look over toward Mark and widened when she realized who he was talking to.
I moved closer, my heels clicking louder than I intended, just in time to overhear Mark say, “Seriously, man, your market report on Rooster was genius.”
Rooster?
I paused mid-step.
All the news could talk about was the leadership shake-up the company was facing and an investor freak-out on Wall Street today.
James tilted his head modestly, and I suddenly noticed the way his suit fit just a little too perfectly. Not trendy, not flashy—expensive in a way that whispered instead of shouted. His whole vibe was easy confidence. Cool competence. The exact energy I’d learned to associate with boardrooms and Bloomberg terminals.
No.
No, no, no.
“Oh, Hayley! Here’s that glass of Riesling for you,” Mark exclaimed once he noticed me standing next to them.
“Thank you.” I took the glass of wine from him and tried my best to avoid making eye contact with James. “And it’s Ha—”
“You saved nearly a billion dollars across ourportfolios today with your write-up on the situation. I’m not sure anyone in the firm’s history has ever done that before.” Mark was staring at James like he was the second coming.
