Page 68 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
James’s voice was a rumble that started low in his chest as he squeezed my hands. “I want to spend as much time with you as you’ll let me, Hal.”
The rest of the air in my lungs slipped out from between my lips as I let each of his words sink in, filling me with their own life.
“I swore off dating after Cassidy used me. She got everything she wanted and more, yetIstill hadn’t been enough for her. But when I look back on that time, I realize she had never made me feel like I wasn’t a prize to be won. I had never understood what it felt like for someone to really see me and still want me. That was until you.” James’s eyes were nearly molten as he laid himself bare for me. “So yes, Hal. I want to spend time with you. This may have started with you and me on opposite sides. But I want it to end with us as a team.”
I let out a small gasp, needing to fill my lungs with more of the very words that James was saying to me. Wanting to drench myself in the way they made me feel.
Light.
Airy.
Worthy.
“So will you sit down with me and have lunch now,Hal?” James asked, that same amusement from before returning to his face. Then he leaned in and whispered in my ear something that set my entire body on fire. “Or do I need to clear the building so we can show each other how much we care with actions rather than words?”
“Lunch sounds perfect.” The words came out on a squeak.
We sat down as if everything were completely normal and we hadn’t just admitted our feelings for each other in the middle of one of my favorite bistros. A waiter came by shortly after to take our orders. James folded his copy ofThe Wall Street Journal. Every movement he made was confident. It was one of the things that I liked best about him, that unwavering self-assurance. Maybe it was rubbing off on me.
“I was thinking about our next date,” James said, picking up the carafe of water from the middle of the table. He filled my glass first, then his own. “Something a little different this time. More low-key. Cozy. Less white tablecloth, more paper napkins.”
I tilted my head, intrigued. “So … messy in a charming way?”
He grinned. “Exactly. Still finalizing the details, but I promise it’ll be fun.”
I nodded, trying to play it cool even as my pulse picked up.
Low-key, unforgettable, upside down—I didn’t really care what the night looked like. As long as he was there, I’d show up.
24
James
“Oh, he’s here!” my grandmother exclaimed as soon as she opened the front door of her brownstone. The familiar sounds of my family echoed down the long front hallway as they gathered in the kitchen, the heart of my grandparents’ home. “James!Nipote. You look so handsome.”
I leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek, the top of her gray bun barely reaching my chest. My height had come from my mother’s side of the family. “Nonna, you just saw me last week at family dinner. I can’t look that much different.”
“You have not been eating enough, James,” she said, her hands gripping my biceps as she examined me like some fruit at the market. “I sent you home with leftovers last week. Did you not eat them?”
She gave me the same routine every Wednesday. My grandmother would answer the door. She’d pull me into a hug, tell me first I was handsome, then too skinny, then ask me if I hadn’t eaten the armload of leftovers she sent me home with every week. I always split them with Sebastian whenever he came over. He was a fiend for Nonna’s cooking. Then she would shoo me to the kitchen, where my mom and Aunt Maria were usually elbow-deep in flour, making pasta from scratch. I’d head to the diningroom, where my dad, Uncle Tony, Brandon, and Emilia had already claimed their spots around the table, a deck of cards and a small pile of poker chips between them.
It was the same thing every week. But that was the best part.
No matter how the world changed around us, this part of life stayed the same. It was comforting, nostalgic. Even with all the quirks of the Rossi clan—my father’s stubborn resistance to change, my grandfather turning a blind eye, my uncle’s love for a heavy pour, and my grandmother’s relentless scrutiny over everyone’s eating habits—it would never get boring. It was where I was happiest.
But I’d started to wonder if the next time I met my family for dinner, Hallie would be with me. I wasn’t sure what would be harder—their questions, their curiosity, or the way I’d feel exposing her to this part of me. Family dinners were predictable, yes, but they also revealed things about you that you couldn’t hide. Things Hallie didn’t know yet. And while it terrified me, it also shot a thrill through me at the possibility.
“James!” my uncle bellowed as I stepped into the dining room. “We’ll deal you in next hand.”
“The markets looked good today,” Brandon said with a smirk. “Which should mean you have plenty to add to the pot.”
I shrugged off my jacket as I slid into my usual chair next to my father. “For the millionth time, Brandon, just because the markets are good, doesn’t mean I suddenly have millions in cash hit my bank account.”
“Sounds like a waste.” Brandon glanced at his cards before tossing a few poker chips into the middle.
Uncle Tony doubled Brandon’s bet without blinking. “Still can’t bluff worth a damn,” he muttered, grinning.
“You haven’t been around the pizzeria as much these past few weeks,” my grandfather said, his deep voice halting the banter.
