Chapter 8
Hallie
“How much do you have left to write?” Roxie asked me as she clicked away on her computer. The gallery had received a new shipment of art over the weekend, and she’d spent the better part of the day logging it into the system.
One of my favorite things about being a journalist was the freedom to do my job from anywhere, so today I decided to work from the gallery with Roxie.
It also helped me avoid running into Anthea at the office.
The last thing I needed was for my boss to ask for an update on the article that was due to be in her inbox by the end of the day—the one detailing two failed dates I’d spun into something more acceptable, but I could only imagine what Anthea would say.
“I’m doing my last read through now.” This article was the introduction to the entire series. It had to be good—not only for the sake of readership, but for the sake of my career.
“Didn’t you already say you were doing your last read through an hour ago?” Roxie leveled me with a knowing look over the top of her laptop.
I sighed. “Okay … this is my final read through.”
The article felt like it was missing something, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit that the missing piece was James. Arguing with him had been the most entertaining part of the two nights he’d ruined.
“Okay.” Roxie closed her laptop. “Spill. You never second guess your work. What’s going on?”
Roxie’s radar for bullshit was always spot on. Especially with me. The two of us became inseparable through college—sharing our first heartbreaks, surviving our first hangovers, and figuring out how to grow up. There was nothing I could get past her.
“Well, when I should be writing an article about a flashy finance guy and him asking me out, I have no material but two failed attempts to get a guy to stay past one drink.” I dropped my head into my hands and let out a long sigh.
Why was the cosmos dangling my dream job in front of my face, only to make it feel just out of reach?
“Shall we ignore the obvious reason those dates didn’t work out?” Roxie asked innocently. “Because of a certain man?”
My frown deepened as my thoughts drifted to the frustratingly handsome enemy I’d somehow ended up with. “I don’t even know his last name. All I know is I opened my big mouth and offended a financial analyst that can hold a grudge.”
Roxie chuckled and then leaned back against the counter.
“You know, I love my job. But I can’t wait for the day I can just focus on food photography full time.
That’s the dream. It always has been. I’d give anything to have my own shot like you do now.
You have the opportunity to leap now , Hallie.
Don’t let it slip through your fingers.”
The door to the gallery opened and Michelle Granger swept in, postponing our conversation.
“Michelle! I didn’t have you down for an appointment today.” Roxie rounded the gallery’s desk to greet one of her biggest clients.
Michelle took off her sunglasses with a pair of silk gloves as she took in the gallery. “Oh, I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by. I’m looking for a new piece for the dining room.”
“Above the fireplace?” Roxie asked, slipping immediately into her work mode.
She gestured toward one of the newly installed pieces.
“You’ve styled that room wonderfully. It is moody, eclectic, rich.
I think you need something like this with colors which will only enhance that theme, not something that will become an accent piece. ”
“Oh, this would definitely be an option,” Michelle mused as she analyzed the piece. “I didn’t have time to catch up with either of you after dinner last week. How was your evening?”
“It was lovely, Michelle.” Roxie reached over to squeeze her arm. “Thank you for inviting us.”
Michelle directed her attention to me. “Hallie, how was James Rossi? I wasn’t sure how sitting you two next to each other would go.”
Rossi .
Roxie snorted and quickly tried to cover it up with a cough. I floundered for a second. “It was … something.”
Michelle glanced between the two of us. “James is a good guy. He comes from a rather well-known family.”
That was rich people code for “his family is loaded”, which explained the signet ring he always wore.
Only people that came from old money would wear something like that as if it were just a normal accessory.
I should’ve known he was a finance bro—everything about him screamed it.
The way he carried himself, the smug charm that never seemed to falter.
All the signs were staring me in the face.
“I was hoping the two of you would hit it off,” Michelle continued. “From what Roxie had told me about you, I thought you would work well together. James needs a woman that’s down to earth and established in her career.”
Michelle wasn’t far off with her matchmaking attempt, with the sparks that flew over dinner—before my big mouth had completely ruined the mood and shut down any remaining chemistry between us.
Honestly, I was thankful that whatever had been brewing was killed.
James had an uncanny ability to mess with my head, make me second-guess everything, then act like I was the crazy one calling him out on it.
So yeah, the article might’ve been a disaster, but at least it had spared me from getting any further involved with him before I regretted it.
I received a look from Roxie that screamed keep your mouth shut about one of my biggest client’s best friends . “And why is that?”
“Well, James has had a rough go of it with women.” Michelle gave us a sad smile. “He has a big heart, always putting those around him first, and it bit him in the butt with Cassidy.”
“Cassidy?” Roxie asked, flashing me a curious glance.
“She’s his ex.” Michelle waved her hand through the air as if this piece of information she just gave us wasn’t the fodder I needed. “He hasn’t gotten over it. She really did a number on him.”
“Roxie, put this one on my account. See if you can have it delivered this weekend.” Michelle studied the art piece one more time before giving us one more serene smile. “It was lovely chatting with you both. I’ll have to invite you both to our next dinner party.”
With a wave that was far more elegant than anything I’d ever be able to achieve, Michelle was gone.
“Why is James Rossi suddenly everywhere in my life?” I asked as soon as the door closed.
Within a week, this man had not only become the bane of my existence, but he’d wormed his way into every crevice of my mind.
For whatever reason, he seemed determined to ruin my chances.
He was infuriating, impossible to figure out, and yet I couldn’t stop myself from fantasizing about him.
Teeth biting a lip. Messy kisses. Sweat-slicked skin under cool sheets. Cries that disappeared into the night.
What has gotten into me?
Roxie dropped onto the gallery couch next to me and wrapped an arm around my waist. I leaned over to rest my head on her shoulder. “Is that such a bad thing?”
“I would say that his current wish to disrupt my life is certainly negative.” After straightening up, I glanced at the article, awaiting my boss’s approval.
“Many women would likely think that having an attractive, eligible man’s undivided attention is positive.” Roxie placed a kiss on top of my head before she shoved me up to my feet. “Please send that article to Anthea now. There’s a new ramen place in Soho that I want to try.”
I clutched a hand to my chest. “A woman after my own heart.”
The Economics of Finding the Most Eligible Man in Finance
By: Hallie Woods
If they chastise the bartender for putting scotch in their Old Fashioned instead of bourbon, they aren’t actually mad. They just know the importance of getting it right the first time.
If they answer a work call in front of you, get used to it. You might even consider it foreplay.
For Christmas, it’s safe to assume a new Rolex watch would be a suitable present.
When they tell you they just have to send one more email before EOD, plan to entertain yourself for approximately two hours.
The allure of men in finance has struck deep into the hearts of the women of New York City.
Was it the impeccably tailored suit? Or the manicured nails and perfectly kept hair?
Or maybe it was the copy-and-paste handsomeness they seemed to have obtained?
When one rejected you, you could just move on to the next.
Whatever it was, I was enthralled by the idea of finding out more about what made them tick.
Many of my preconceived notions proved true on my first outing, much to my disappointment.
Finance Man #1, let’s call him Mr. Red Head, ordered an Old Fashioned at the bar for himself and a glass of white wine for me.
We chatted about work—me, barely getting to mention I was a writer before being subjected to an hour of market analysis that I didn’t ask for.
He mentioned he’d attended Brown and was in a fraternity.
How he still had monthly dinners with some of his fraternity brothers and how his dream was to climb the ladder of investment banking and to become, for lack of a better term, a “wolf” of Wall Street.
By our second round of drinks, I’d quickly realized that there wouldn’t be a second date. Why is that? Because the second round of drinks never came as Mr. Red Head became caught up in a conversation with a peer about work that would derail the entire date.
But nevertheless, I was on a mission to find the most eligible man in finance, and I wouldn’t settle until I found him.
After I hit send, I realized the details I added to improve the chemistry weren’t necessarily based on the guys but had more to do with a certain 6′5″, blue-eyed investment banker who I just couldn’t get out of my mind.