Page 48 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
When she left, I turned back to James. “You mentioned you had an idea for our third date?” I asked, clearing my throat as I fought to regain my focus.
James poured himself a cup of coffee as he nodded. “Yes. I wanted to run it by you first instead of surprising you, because it would be a couple of overnight stays.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. The mere mention of an overnight stay with him sent a rush of nerves through me. It meant that we would spend more time together than we ever had before. I tried to suppress the flood of questions. Would he expect to share a bed? Where was he taking me? Was it just the two of us?
“Memorial Day is this weekend, and I thought there’s nothing more extravagant than being whisked away to the Hamptons.” James’s voice pulled me back to the present. “I figured we could invite Sebastian and Roxie too. My parents are renovating their place, but it should be usable enough for all of us.”
“You want to take me to the Hamptons?” The thought hit me harder than I expected. The Hamptons? I’d been there once with friends, but we’d stuck to a few dive bars and local joints. This was different. The magazine could eat it up, though. I could practically hear Anthea’s voice in my head, praising clicks and shares this article would generate.
I hesitated, the nervous tightness in my throat growing. It felt like too much. But then I thought about Roxie, who would jump at the chance to go if she were in my place.
“It’s too much,” I started, but James’s face fell, and his cheeks flushed pink as he assumed I was turning him down.
“I can figure out something else to do in the city,” he said quickly, but I reached out, placing a hand over his.
“No,” I quickly interjected. “I would love to go to the Hamptons with you.”
A visible sense of relief washed over his face, the tension in his shoulders easing. He gave me a smile that melted something inside me.
“Oh. Okay, great,” he said.
His gaze lingered on me, warm and steady, and I squeezed my thighs together as a sudden heat surged between them. My mind flashed to the conversation I’d had with Roxie.
“I’m worried that I’m maybe, possibly, having some feelings for him.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“I think I’m going to have to make sure I’m going to the gym if we keep up these dates,” James joked, as the waiter brought our appetizer of mini pancakes out. “If food is your love language, I may put on a few pounds trying to make you happy.”
He laughed, digging into the pancakes, and divided up the appetizer between us. But my mind was reeling from what he’d said. Trying to make the other person happy? That’s what people on proper dates do, right? Or was there something else going on here?
Maybe this wasn’t about the article and the review for his family’s restaurant after all. My mind kept circling back to that kiss. To the way James looked at me, like he was actually … interested. I’d hoped to keep this professional, but if I was being honest with myself, there was a small part of me thatwantedto see if there was something more.
“Would you prefer a lot of syrup, or just a little?” James asked while I stared at him, dumbfounded.
“A lot,” I rasped, my throat suddenly dry.
One kiss had sent me spiraling. And now, the idea of spending an entire weekend with James in the Hamptons left me both exhilarated and terrified. How was I possibly going to survive?
17
Hallie
SUBJECT: ARTICLE DUE BY MONDAY NIGHT
I’m feeling generous. Since it’s Memorial Day weekend and we are off on Monday, I expect to have your article in my inbox by Monday night. It will be on the digital site on Wednesday. I hope to see something spectacular for the long weekend. Come see me before you leave.
Anthea’s email hit my work inbox just as I was packing up my bag around lunch time. James had suggested we get on the road a bit earlier in the day to beat the traffic heading out to the Hamptons. One way in and out could back us up in traffic for hours.
I sighed as I closed my laptop and shoved it into my work bag. When Anthea had first proposed this idea, I’d been less than thrilled to write it. At first, it hadn’t seemed like much—just a fluff piece, a lightweight assignment that I figured would only cost me a couple of sleepless nights. How very wrong I’d been.
Anthea was walking on her treadmill in a pair of heels when I knocked on her office door. “Hallie, come in.”
The door clicked shut behind me, and I stood there for a moment, debating whether to sit or stand. It feltincredibly awkward to sit as she continued walking on her treadmill, so standing it was.
“You did a great job highlighting how personal your last date was so the reader could understand your love of food.” Anthea’s ability to multitask was admirable as she flipped through her tablet resting on her treadmill. “I can’t even imagine how much money Mr. Old Fashioned shelled out to secure a private cooking class with Melody Garrett. You know, I may need you to slip me his number when this is all said and done.”
The unexpectedness of Anthea’s comment caused me to nearly choke, my eyes widening with surprise.
