Page 40 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
Women everywhere were swooning over the wining and dining I’d got from Mr. Old Fashioned … and I mean, sure, it had been swoon-worthy. The food had been to die for. But I was mostly excited because itfinallymeant I had good material for my article.
The weekend only got better when I received a text from James on Sunday after brunch.
James:
The article was fantastic. Looking forward to your review of every course on your blog.
James:
2134 Center Street, see you at 7 on Friday. x Mr. Old Fashioned
If he kept choosing places likeCrepitio, I’d have enough material to last me weeks. Because that was all this was. Another article. Another dinner. Another opportunity to show Anthea I could write something people actually wanted to read.
The fact that James had signed off with an “x” didn’t mean anything. Obviously.
A loud crash echoed from the break room—followed by someone shouting, “I’m fine!”—and I blinked, dragged back to the present with Janelle staring at me expectantly.
“Thanks, Janelle. Our next date is on Friday. Fingers crossed it’s as good as this past Friday.”
“It better be. I’m vicariously living through you. I can’t even imagine being treated like that by a decent man.” Janelle slumped against the wall of my cubicle, her long, dark hair falling over one shoulder in a messy braid. She had that effortlessly chic style going for her, with a mix of high-end designer pieces and the kind of casual flair that always made her look likeshebelonged on the pages ofSophisticate.
She stared off into space, her deep-brown eyes narrowing as she sighed, clearly worn out by the New York dating scene. “Every time I strike up the courage to go on a date in this city, I’m dealing with a man with Peter Pan Syndrome or someone who’s married to their job.”
Before I could respond, a voice cut through the hum of the office. “Hallie!”
Anthea. Of course.
Interns scrambled to make themselves look busy, and a few writers exhaled in relief that it wasn’t their name being called. Janelle, not wanting to stick around for the storm, disappeared as quickly as she came.
I straightened up, trying to steady my nerves as I made my way toward Anthea’s office. I admired her more than anyone else atSophisticate, but the woman was terrifying—like I might be devoured by the beast herself.
