Page 25 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
“This isn’t some game, James. You can’t keep trying to sabotage my article. It’s going to get written, no matter how hard you try to stop it.” Hallie stood up suddenly from the table, her frustration crackling in the air.
“You’re 0–3, Hal.” I couldn’t resist throwing in one more jab, reminding her of every conversation that I’d interrupted.
“0–4,” she muttered under her breath.
“What was that?”
Hallie swallowed, and I couldn’t help but follow themovement. “I’m 0–4 on getting asked out. Struck out last night, even without your interference.”
A smug grin crept onto my face. “So, if thiswerean actual game we were playing, I’d be winning?”
I had more important things to focus on—my family’s restaurant, my dream of opening my own investment firm—but, honestly, nothing seemed as entertaining as messing with Hallie Woods.
Hallie grabbed her purse. “Roxie, I’m out of here.”
Roxie quickly jumped from her seat next to Seb, looking like she wanted to put as much space between the two of them as possible. She and Hallie disappeared out of the pub and into the night, leaving Seb and me with Roxie’s date, who was still sitting at the table, casually scrolling through his phone, blissfully unaware that his date had just left.
“How did we both strike out tonight?” Seb asked, staring at the door where the women had just exited, looking genuinely perplexed. “That doesn’t even seem possible.”
“I didn’t strike out tonight, Seb,” I said, settling back into my seat and sipping my Old Fashioned. “I hit a home run.”
8
Hallie
“How much do you have left to write?” Roxie asked me as she clicked away on her computer. The gallery had received a new shipment of art over the weekend, and she’d spent the better part of the day logging it into the system.
One of my favorite things about being a journalist was the freedom to do my job from anywhere, so today I decided to work from the gallery with Roxie. It also helped me avoid running into Anthea at the office. The last thing I needed was for my boss to ask for an update on the article that was due to be in her inbox by the end of the day—the one detailing two failed dates I’d spun into something more acceptable, but I could only imagine what Anthea would say.
“I’m doing my last read through now.” This article was the introduction to the entire series. Ithadto be good—not only for the sake of readership, but for the sake of my career.
“Didn’t you already say you were doing your last read through an hour ago?” Roxie leveled me with a knowing look over the top of her laptop.
I sighed. “Okay … this is myfinalread through.”
The article felt like it was missing something, but Icouldn’t bring myself to admit that the missing piece was James. Arguing with him had been the most entertaining part of the two nights he’d ruined.
“Okay.” Roxie closed her laptop. “Spill. You never second guess your work. What’s going on?”
Roxie’s radar for bullshit was always spot on. Especially with me. The two of us became inseparable through college—sharing our first heartbreaks, surviving our first hangovers, and figuring out how to grow up. There was nothing I could get past her.
“Well, when I should be writing an article about a flashy finance guy and him asking me out, I have no material but two failed attempts to get a guy to stay past one drink.” I dropped my head into my hands and let out a long sigh. Why was the cosmos dangling my dream job in front of my face, only to make it feel just out of reach?
“Shall we ignore the obvious reason those dates didn’t work out?” Roxie asked innocently. “Because of a certain man?”
My frown deepened as my thoughts drifted to the frustratingly handsome enemy I’d somehow ended up with. “I don’t even know his last name. All I know is I opened my big mouth and offended a financial analyst that can hold a grudge.”
Roxie chuckled and then leaned back against the counter. “You know, I love my job. But I can’t wait for the day I can just focus on food photography full time. That’s the dream. It always has been. I’d give anything to have my own shot like you do now. You have the opportunity to leapnow, Hallie. Don’t let it slip through your fingers.”
The door to the gallery opened and Michelle Granger swept in, postponing our conversation.
“Michelle! I didn’t have you down for an appointment today.” Roxie rounded the gallery’s desk to greet one of her biggest clients.
Michelle took off her sunglasses with a pair of silk gloves as she took in the gallery. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by. I’m looking for a new piece for the dining room.”
“Above the fireplace?” Roxie asked, slipping immediately into her work mode. She gestured toward one of the newly installed pieces. “You’ve styled that room wonderfully. It is moody, eclectic, rich. I think you need something like this with colors which will only enhance that theme, not something that will become an accent piece.”
“Oh, this would definitely be an option,” Michelle mused as she analyzed the piece. “I didn’t have time to catch up with either of you after dinner last week. How was your evening?”
