Page 81 of I'm Looking for a Man in Finance
That beautiful smile stretched so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “CanI? Sweetheart, you’re in for a treat.”
Nothing seemed likely to eclipse the treat he’d just given me, I thought.
28
Hallie
“Do you think you could just …notgo into the office?” I asked, snuggling deeper under the covers. I wasn’t sure what thread count these sheets were, but they were so soft I felt like I was sleeping on literal clouds.
We’d spent most of the night watching reality TV and drinking Old Fashioneds while I worked on my review of The Social Eatery. James’s suggestion to write authentically, like I did for my blog, had proven truer than I’d expected. I’d already carved out my own space within the food critic world—I’d found my own success. But when the opportunity came to write under theSophisticatename, that success suddenly felt small.
The only solution was to do what I do best and beme. I wrote something I would be proud to post on my blog. James even contributed with his review of the Old Fashioned, which I included.
By the time I was done, it was well into the night. James offered me one of his guest rooms, but after everything that had already happened between us, sleeping in separate bedrooms felt far weirder than sharing one.
“I’d love to stay in bed,” James said, his voice still thick with sleep as he pulled me against his chest, his arm strong and warm beneath my head. “But I have an importantmeeting today.” Morning light was already starting to spill through the cracks in the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room and bringing with it the day’s responsibilities.
The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my cheek made it harder to let him go. Prior to last night, I’d done a good job of shelving my feelings for him, keeping things objective—measuring our connection like it was just content for the column. But after last night, the enormity of my emotions was too much to ignore.
James wantedme. And not just in some shallow, short-term way. He wanted me enough to respect my boundaries and understand my hesitancy to be with him. He’d taken the time to go slow, to make sure I was comfortable. With no expectation of reciprocity. And as I lay in these luxurious sheets, next to a shirtless James, I knew things were changing between us.
To fulfill Anthea’s challenge, I knew I would have to date someone for a considerable time. Yet, I never thought I would find myself in this situation when I first started “Love on Wall Street”. Lying in bed in a brownstone on the Upper West Side, beside a man who listened and cared.
“You are more than welcome to lie here all day if you want to,” James murmured, kissing my temple. “If I didn’t have this lunch meeting, I would be right here with you. Did you turn in your article?”
“I did,” I said. “Haven’t heard from Anthea yet though. So, no stamp of approval.”
James threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed. I couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him in his boxers. It had been too dark in the room last night for me to fully appreciate the view.
“Do you need her approval to feel like you turned in a good piece?” he asked as he crossed into his closet.
“I know I turned in a good piece.”
“Then there shouldn’t be anything else that matters.” He walked back out of his closet, holding up two different shirts. “Which one?”
That was the thing about James. He was always so matter of fact. He didn’t have a million different voices in his head, forcing him to second guess his actions. I couldn’t possibly understand what that was like. To not be constantly wondering if you had done enough. Ifyouwere enough. To have the confidence that he woke up with every day would change my life. Being on the receiving end of his confidence, even for a few seconds, made a difference.
“The light-blue one,” I said, smiling as he disappeared again.
“I’m thinking navy pants,” he called out. “What suit jacket?”
“Do you have something tan or brown?”
He reappeared with two different jackets. I pointed to the brown plaid one. “How have you managed to dress yourself until now?”
“Is it such a terrible thing that I want to wear something you like today?”
I sank further into the bed, grinning. Judging by the number of times I’d blushed in his presence, I was pretty sure I had a good old-fashioned crush.
“You know I won’t be with you today to appreciate that outfit,” I teased.
James emerged fully dressed. And wow. He looked perfect—like a classy wet dream.
“No, you won’t be there to appreciate how good my ass looks in these pants,” he said, fastening his Rolex and sliding on his signet ring, “but I get to walk around knowing that you like how I look. That’s enough for me.”
For so long, I’d buried myself in my work. Food and my writing had yet to let me down. I’d convinced myself that something was wrong with me—that I wasn’t pretty enough, funny enough, that I simply wasn’t good enough compared to every other woman. I wished I could go back and tell my younger self that she was perfect. I only needed to wait for someone who could see that.
“Don’t feel you need to rush out of here after me,” James said, crossing the room again to fasten his cufflinks. “Take your time. Use whatever you want. I think I have a leftover breakfast casserole in the fridge that you can have. Do you want to spend our fourth date at my family’s restaurant tonight?”
