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“Either that or your pot of gold.”

“Jesus, Colton. This has to be a fake.”

Cole laughs. “Your name is fake too, Mr. Steel.”

“I can’t believe you named me that,” I grumble.

“Sloane and Cleo wanted to go with Noah Grey, given your reputation, but I reined them in.”

“What reputation?”

“Apparently one of the girls knows someone you went out with.”

“So?”

“They call you ‘the beast’.” Colton’s grinning from ear to ear.

I ignore him as best I can. “Anyway, I’m not dating Lucky Charm.”

“Lucky Irish. Before you refuse, at least look at her photo.”

“Colton, would you drop it already?” This is starting to piss me off.

“Dude, I’m trying tohelpyou. We need to do something to improve your atrocious mood. The app has suggested the two of you meet at a bar called Hopeless Romantic tomorrow night. It’s new. It’s only three blocks from here and has so far received only five star reviews. One tap and you’re booked for tomorrow—ifshe taps too, which I’m betting she will.”

I stack and file the paperwork I’ve been staring at all afternoon. “The app tells you where to meet?” I guess that’s mildly interesting.

“The algorithms figure out the place where you’re most likely to feel comfortable based on your profiles.”

“You’re wasting both our time.” I sigh, feeling surly. “She probably wouldn’t even show up.”

Colton smirks. “Oh, she’ll show.”

“How do you know? Are you pretending you’re me and chatting her up or something?”

More laughter. “I would never do that.” He’s enjoying my misery immensely. “Besides, the app doesn’t have a chat function. It’s designed to get people to meet in real life. No texting until after you’ve met.”

“I’m not doing it, so you and Cleo and Sloane can stop meddling in my love life and work on your own.”

“My love life is already perfect, thanks for asking. Yours, however, has room for improvement.” Colton sets his phonedown, sliding it across the desk. “At least look at her before you refuse.”

Grumpily, I pick up his phone, glancing at the picture.

Zooming in a little.

Holy hell.

She’s smiling. Her hair is white-blond and wavy, hanging almost to her bare, warm-looking shoulders. She has olive skin and eyes that are a bright, off-neon shade of blue. Her teeth are white and neat-looking and her lips are full and pink. She’s very…colorful. There’s something wholesome about her, but with an edge. You get the feeling she’s got a wild side. She looks, in a word,luscious. Against my will—and at the worst possible time imaginable—my mouth waters and my cock thickens.Fuck.Behind her, the trees and faraway buildings are framed against a blue sky. She’s in Central Park, on one of those perfect New York days. “This has to be fake. Nobody looks like this.”

“Photos are scanned to see if they’re AI-enhanced. This one isn’t.”

“It tells you that?”

“Yep.”

“This is real?”

“Completely real.”