Page 54 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
I nodded.
“You can always stop, or just make it up.” With a comforting squeeze, Roxie wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a hug.
“I wish it were that easy,” I sighed.
“Why can’t it be?” That was the thing with Roxie. She never encountered a problem she couldn’t solve. There was never a situation that she couldn’t just back out of.Nothing was ever too permanent, and there wasalwaysan opportunity to try again.
Her optimism was part of the reason I wanted to be her friend so badly back in college. She made everything seem so easy. As if making a choice were as easy as flicking a switch, not an agonizing process spanning days. Despite her chaotic tendencies, I knew she would always have my back. When life went sideways, she’d always be there to pick up the pieces with me.
“If I just stop writing ‘Love on Wall Street’, I could lose my job. Plus, I need the experiences to be real. Anthea is such a pro, she’ll see straight through it if I start fictionalizing my dates.”
Roxie shrugged her shoulders, as if the prospect of unemployment wasn’t that big of a deal. I guess when you had constant freelance gigs lined up, it didn’t seem like a big deal. But that was just who Roxie was. With her carefree spirit, she never let the small things get her down. Somehow, she always remembered that even the worst, most daunting moments were temporary.
“Weren’t you the one that was just suggesting we start our own blog?”
“Weren’t you the one that was hesitant over agreeing and wasn’t sure if it was the right time?” I fired back.
“I’ve had some time to think about it,” Roxie mused. “And maybe going off on our own wouldn’t be such a bad thing. There’s a lot that both of us would need to do, but maybe it’s doable.”
“What are you saying?” I asked her, pulling away to look at her.
“Let’s just enjoy dinner tonight. I brought my camera.”Roxie gave me a wink right as James pulled the car into the restaurant’s parking lot.
“How does seafood and Italian sound?” James jumped out of the car and opened my door, offering me his hand.
“It sounds perfect.”
The warmth of James’s arm enveloped my hand as he gently folded it into the crook of his elbow. A wave of comfort and security washed over me, making me forget the predicament the two of us found ourselves in. “Great, because this is the hardest reservation to get here. I had to pull a few strings for us. For you.”
James’s intense gaze reminded me of our date last week when he stalked toward me from his cab, culminating in one of the hottest kisses of my life. I’d imagined that kiss a hundred times over the past week. The way he transitioned, in a flash, from the gentle, soft-spoken man he’d been all evening to almost primal as he unleashed some of his raw need for me. A deep, throbbing ache pulsed through my body, a relentless rhythm that stole my breath.
James led me into the bustling restaurant, the sounds of clinking glasses and chatter washing over me as Roxie and Sebastian trailed behind, pointedly keeping their distance. The restaurant was bursting at the seams with people.
“Wow. You were right. This is the place to be in the Hamptons. Everyone on their vacation must be spending the evening here.”
“Oh, don’t be fooled,” Sebastian replied. “There are deals being cut around this room as we speak. Just becauseeveryone’s traded their suits for linen doesn’t mean that work stops.”
As if to emphasize his point, Sebastian’s phone vibrated.
“The rich never truly take time off.”
“How sad it must be,” Roxie quipped back at Sebastian, “to not slow down and savor even one night of life.” James and I exchanged uneasy glances.
“Roxie’s right, Seb.” James slid his phone from the table and into his pants pocket. “No phones.”
“You’re turning off your lifeline?” I asked jokingly.
“I can go an evening without work.” James studied the menu in front of him. “I turned my phone off when we got to the grocery store.”
“James Rossi can go twelve hours without checking his phone?” I reached over to feel his forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”
Darkness consumed the rich blue of James’s eyes, the pupils dilating as he glared, but there was a hint of playfulness there. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”
“I think it’s my best quality,” I joked, batting my eyelashes at him. “Don’t you?”
The challenge in James’s eyes was clear in the narrowed gaze and tightened jaw. My knees knocked against the underside of the table as his shoe, rough against my skin, scraped gently down the back of my calf.
“Are you alright?” Roxie asked me.
