Page 66 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
Was that jealousy?
No. That couldn’t be right. Yes, there was attraction—God, was there attraction. But there was a chance thatJames was still just … keeping up appearances. Fulfilling his end of the deal. Fancy dates, charming conversation, the perfectly packaged Wall Street boyfriend for “Love on Wall Street”. Just because he kissed like he meant it, likeImeant something, or planned nights that felt tailor-made for me didn’t necessarily mean … anything. Did it?
Except, it kind of did. At least to me.
And that was the problem.
Because we hadn’t talked about it. Not once. Not after the night I told him to stop. Not after I told him I didn’t want him to stop anymore. Not after he kissed me like I was the only person in the world worth touching. I didn’t know if this was just some extended bit of method acting for the sake of a column that was going viral.
And I was scared to ask.
Because what if I already knew the answer?
James Rossi was the kind of man who belonged in penthouses and boardrooms. Who grew up ordering market-value items off menus and said things like “my family’s estate.” I was a girl from Ohio who still used coupons and knew how to stretch leftovers into four different meals.
Maybe that’s why it was easier to push away. To pretend I didn’t want more. Because just like the critic position, he felt like something I couldalmosttouch, but never really hold.
“I’m not sure how you’re going to do it—or should I say how Mr. Old Fashioned is going to do it—but I expect the next date to top this past weekend. Let’s really strike while the iron is hot. We’ve got the attention. Readers are returning weekly for the next update. They’re sharing theirown attempts at findingtheirMr. Old Fashioned online. This is a great opportunity for us to take advantage of a potential viral moment.”
I nodded numbly. A single breath swept away the dreams I’d let myself believe over the past few months.
“Do you have any idea where you’re going next?” Anthea leaned forward, excitement and something I could only describe as cunning in her eyes. Every piece of me felt pulled in a million directions at that moment. If I insisted Anthea held up her end of our bargain and considered me for the critic position, would that risk eliminating any chance I had at a career withSophisticate—whether that be writing a dating column or reviewing food? That didn’t even address the reservations I had about putting pressure on my dates with James. Dates that filled me with joy. Dates that had made me feelseen. Dates that made me reconsider everything I thought I knew about James Rossi.
“I do not know where we’re going next.” My phone screen lit up in my hand, screen flashing with a message from James asking to grab lunch. I stared at it, momentarily thrown. “He hasn’t told me yet,” I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.
The timing was freakishly perfect. Or maybe fate had a twisted sense of humor. Either way, it was like he knew I was talking about him.
“Well, I’m sure it’ll be somewhere spectacular. A man like that is on a mission.” Anthea sat back in her chair. “That’s a man who knows what he wants and it’s a wife. Why else would he spend so much time and effort trying to impress you with extravagant dates?”
Because he’s trying to save his family’s restaurant.
“Well then, you can look forward to next week’s article, it seems. Maybe it’ll surprise everyone.” I stood from my seat, even though Anthea hadn’t dismissed me yet. A sour taste filled my mouth. “I have another appointment I need to get to.”
Anthea glanced at her computer and must have realized that she had spent more than her normal five minutes conversing with me because she waved a hand dismissively toward her office door.
“I look forward to what Mr. Old Fashioned has in store for us next,” Anthea said as I texted James back, letting him know to meet me at a bistro that would be midway between our two offices.
James:
Can’t wait to see you :)
I stared at that text message all the way through my office and in the elevator to the lobby. Not once did the fact that we were meeting once again outside of our agreed-upon five dates cross my mind as I jumped on the subway to head south toward James. Only my growing giddiness as I emerged from the subway and headed toward the bistro was present in my mind.
