Chapter 2
Cash slides a folder toward me, then to Colton, getting straight to the point. “All the info I’ve got so far on Ashton Holdings.”
Colton starts leafing through the paperwork. “Who are they?”
“They’re a smaller investment firm that had a reputation for hitting a series of lucky scores around fifteen or twenty years ago. The founder, Henry Ashton, had an almost prophetic knack for good timing. But he refused to modernize with the times and their profits have suffered for it.”
“Then why do we want to go anywhere near them?” I glance at the file on the table, but leave it closed. I want to hear what Cash has to say before I look at the numbers and dismiss it immediately.
“Because they’re undervalued. The founder died around six months ago of a sudden heart attack.”
Colton looks up from the file he’s leafing through. Fathers dying of sudden heart attacks is something we can relate to. “Who’s running the company now?”
“Ashton’s kid. Who’s completely inexperienced. It isn’t going well for them. Their shares have plummeted.”
I recline back in my chair a little, taking a sip of my coffee. I’m trying to remember if I’ve heard of Ashton Holdings but I’m coming up blank. “Sounds like a disaster.”
“At the moment, it is. But we know what we’re doing and with a small amount of effort we could turn it around. It’s a special little company with huge potential.”
It’s a weird thing for Cash to fixate on, considering everything we’ve got on our plates with our own company. “Why are you so interested in it?”
“We could most likely get a good deal. We should act quickly though. A few other companies are starting to smell the blood in the water. Abundance Investments is one of them.”
“Ah.” That explains it. A few months ago when we were investigated for an insider trading incident—which never happened and eventually blew over—the CEO of Abundance, Chad Bentley, poached a few of our clients, convincing them we were untrustworthy.
So there’s a reason Cash wants to one-up Abundance.
“There has to be more to this than just revenge.”
“There is. There’s a shitload of money to be made here, Noah. If we act fast.” Cash’s competitive streak is fired up. “And it would be satisfying to piss off Chad, admit it.”
“Has Chad made an offer?” Colton continues to leaf through the paperwork.
“Not yet.” When Cash is in one of these moods, he won't accept anything other than getting the deal done. “I say we go in with a strong offer, “ he says. “One they can’t refuse.”
“If they’re in that much of a bind, we should start low,” Colton suggests. “They might take any reasonable offer that comes along.”
“I don’t want to be outbid,” Cash insists.
I’m aware of their ongoing conversation, but for a few minutes, I say nothing.
I’m distracted by the decision I made this morning, which feels like a black cloud casting its dark shadow over my future.
It’s kind of heavy to basically have given up on true love.
I always thought it would just… find me.
In a lightning-strike, out-of-the-blue kind of way that felt like it was meant to be.
No such luck.
And my current dry spell is making me feel like I might throttle someone and/or spontaneously fucking combust.
I take a deep breath, exhaling slowly. And non-obviously.
It’s good. Everything’s fine. I’m resolved now. I’m doing it.
I’m going to…do something. Hunt down the most desirable option, then I’m going to get down and fucking dirty until I can find some sense of relief—with no strings attached. No feelings. No commitments. Nothing. Just pure, hot, take-no-prisoners sex. With…someone.
Who, I have no idea.
I try to look on the bright side: I’m young, hot, rich as fuck and have women calling me up every day of the week begging me for a date.
Most of them are people I’ve already let down gently, women I dated once or twice but felt nothing for. Surely someone out there has to have enough appeal to make me forget I’m not in love with them for one goddamn night.
I’ll figure it out.
But even though I’m determined now, part of me feels… sad . Losing your faith in something as important as finding the love of your life is sort of depressing.
“Yo, Noah, are you in the room?” Colton waves his hand in front of my face.
“What?”
Cash leans back and folds his arms, staring at me like he’s mildly concerned. “What’s going on with you? Are things really that bad?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I bluff. Like the question bores me.
But my brothers are nothing if not relentless. “Dude,” Colton says, “call the number on your coffee cup. Let off some steam with Emo Girl.”
I sigh. “Fuck no.”
“Okay, then one of the other six girls who were swooning over you in the coffee shop. Even I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’re some kind of beast in the sack, bro. You hardly fly under the radar in this neighborhood.”
At least Colton knows how to almost make me laugh. “Jesus, Colton.”
“What can I say, the women in this town talk. And, trust me, it’s horrendous to listen to. Either way, I’m sure you have no shortage of offers.”
I glance down at my phone. Which is, in fact, lighting up and full of text messages and ignored phone calls.
The few women I do date tend to stalk me for a long time afterward.
I don’t ghost women or treat them badly and apparently that’s a novelty.
They beg me for months—sometimes years—to give them another chance.
My brothers don’t get this. Sure, they’re in love now, but all three of them have pasts that are strewn with broken hearts. None of them ever had a problem being an asshole.
Me, on the other hand, I just can’t bring myself to do it. The tears. The begging and the pleading. It’s downright torturous. I just can’t… hurt them.
“This is worse than I thought,” Colton says, making a call before I can stop him. “Sloane, could you come in here, please?”
“For fuck’s sake,” I mutter.
The last thing I need is Colton’s extremely gossip-fueled assistant to be in any way consulted on my dismal love life. But in Sloane waltzes, willowy and sassy as fuck, leaving the door wide open. “Good morning, everyone.” To Colton, “What can I help you with, boss?”
“What was the name of that dating app you were talking about yesterday?” Colton asks her.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I stand up to leave.
I almost get the idea this whole thing was planned though, because Sloane is standing in the doorway, like she’s intentionally blocking me.
She launches straight into her pitch. “It was written up in the New York Times as being the new big thing. The success rate for the matches is unprecedented. Everyone’s joining it. It’s called Lucky In Love.”
“Not interested, Sloane,” I growl, hoping she’ll take the hint and let me out the door before I have to somehow physically move her myself.
“It’s supposed to have these really intelligent biometrics that get amazing matches,” Sloane insists.
“It doesn’t go on things like, oh they both like dogs, let’s match them up.
It’s way more nuanced than that. The algorithms are incredibly sophisticated.
They deep-dive into your internet footprint.
The app has a success rate of eighty-seven percent.
Which is amazing. You should try it, Noah. ”
I glare at her. “Maybe you should try it, Sloane.”
“I would but I’m seeing someone at the moment.” She blinks up at me, her excitement at the prospect of match-making for me glinting in her brown eyes as she firmly stands her ground. My glare slides to Colton. Then Cash.
Of all of them, I thought Cash might be my ally, but he says, “You should give it a shot, Noah.”
I’m being ambushed.
“ Totally worth a shot,” seconds Sloane.
Colton picks up his phone and starts tapping away.
“Don’t you fucking dare—” I grab for his phone but he’s already out of his seat, dodging me as he types.
I outweigh him and he knows from experience—from the few times he’s pushed me too far, like he’s doing right now—that I can kick his ass.
But I’m hardly going to chase him around the goddamn table.
“What harm can it do?” Cash asks me.
“This is Colton setting up a dating profile for me. Are you hearing yourself?”
Colton gives me a smug grin. “There. You’re signed up. They’ll come back to us for more info over the next few hours. Then we can sit back and watch the matches roll in. And don’t worry, I gave you a fictional last name.”
“I’m going to annihilate you for this.”
“You won’t want to.” Colton gives me an earnest look. “You’ll be too busy getting laid and falling in love. I’m only doing this because it works , Noah.” But I can tell he’s ready to run if I lunge for him. “We want you to be happy.”
Happy.
Colton’s phone is already pinging with incoming messages. He’s set the whole thing up so fast I’m wondering again if this was pre-meditated. “They’re going to email me the follow up questions shortly. If there’s anything I don’t know, I’ll ask Cleo.”
“Here to help!” my obviously-already-in-the-know assistant chirps from her desk.
Wonderful. So the entire office is in on it.
Cleo rushes in, high on her enthusiasm for their shared new quest. She grins at me. “Morning, boss.”
She never calls me “boss.” “Cleo.”
Cleo, Sloane and Colton start poring over the app like it’s Christmas morning. “Oh my god, Colton, this profile is too good. Noah Steel ?” Sloane and Cleo erupt into laughter.
Just when I thought this day couldn’t get any worse.
Cash gives me a guilty, sympathetic smile but does nothing to stop their chatter. “Who knows, you might find the girl you’ve been searching for.”
“I think we both know that’s about as likely as Ashton Holdings being the investment of our dreams.” I take my opportunity while they’re distracted and walk out.