Chapter 33
Hallie
At work on Monday, my head was still in the clouds. I’d spent all of Friday and Saturday with James, and then woken up Sunday to an email from Anthea saying she loved my article on The Social Eatery, which had officially gone live on Sophisticate ’s website.
Her praise put some wind back in my sails and gave me some hope that our original agreement was back on track. There was still a chance I could end up as Sophisticate ’s food critic.
I’d squealed when I saw my name on the article—my actual name, printed on a review published by a magazine people actually recognized.
Sure, it wasn’t the first time my name had been attached to a food review, but this was the first time it wasn’t buried on my personal blog.
So many more people would read it than those my little blog reached.
Roxie had come charging into my room, wielding a frying pan, certain our mouse friend was back.
When she realized that I was celebrating The Social Eatery article, she’d immediately discarded the pan in exchange for a bottle of champagne and some orange juice.
For a moment, it felt like I was truly going to make my dreams become reality.
Then, earlier this morning, James messaged me to ask if I could swap our fifth Friday date for a full-day Saturday one instead. We’d fallen into an easy rhythm. Every morning I’d wake up to a text from James, wishing me a good morning and asking what my day entailed.
But I hadn’t slept over at his place since Friday night, and he hadn’t stayed at mine—probably for the best, considering Roxie could hear everything through our paper-thin walls.
Still, a tiny part of me was panicking over how I wanted to be around him. All the time. It had only been a month. And half of that had technically been … unintentional dating.
I didn’t know what we were, not exactly. But my life was so busy that I didn’t have time to spiral out about it. People slept with each other all the time without it being a thing . Right?
But could you still claim the relationship to be casual if there were feelings involved? Because this was definitely not a “no strings attached” situation. For me, or for James. I could just tell he was in as deep as me just from the way he looked at me.
“Hallie, that article you wrote on The Social Eatery was incredible,” Janelle said as she leaned over our shared cubicle wall.
“I can’t believe you got to cover their opening night.
Is Anthea considering you for the food critic position?
I heard they were considering an outside food blogger, some big influencer, for the role. ”
Janelle’s insight into my competition didn’t even bother me. Not when I had the encouragement from Anthea over the weekend that my piece was good and the clicks on the article itself to back up its legitimacy.
For the first time in months, everything felt like it was falling into place.
“I’ve put my name in for it,” I replied casually. “We’ll see what shakes out.”
My computer went off with a notification for my email.
RE: “Love on Wall Street” Article ETA Wednesday
Hallie,
We will be moving the “Love on Wall Street” article to this Wednesday. The magazine has a big feature story coming out on a celebrity wedding today. We want to make space for the exclusive and give it time to breathe.
X
Anthea
This wasn’t the first time one of the “Love on Wall Street” articles had been bumped later in the week.
But it was the first time I actually felt a pang of disappointment.
Not because it was being pushed—but because it meant the world wouldn’t get to read about Rossi Pizzeria yet .
I was itching to help James get some tangible results to show his family that social media could make a real difference in their business.
Just as I replied to Anthea, letting her know I was fine with the article coming out on Wednesday, my phone went off.
James:
How do you feel about gyros?
Hallie:
I think they’re a fantastic food. I have nothing against them. Honestly, I don’t put them in my food rotation often enough.
James:
Do you want to change that?
Hallie:
Are you asking me on a date, James Rossi?
James:
I’m asking you on a date-shaped thing. One that includes food and the company of a handsome man.
Hallie:
I don’t think there’s another person in the world more sure of themselves than you.
James:
I am sure of one thing. I’m sure that I’m about to have lunch with you.
Hallie:
Just send me the address before this goes any further.
James was waiting for me at what he called one of his favorite Greek restaurants.
It was closer to his brownstone on the Upper West Side.
A hike for him coming from the Financial District.
But he’d promised me that the trip would be worth it.
He said he’d been dreaming about their gyros, so he took it as a sign that he needed to take me there.
As I walked into the restaurant, the aroma of garlic and oregano filled the air, mingling with the sound of sizzling meat on the grill.
The soft glow of candlelight enhanced the cozy ambience, casting warm shadows on the rustic wooden tables.
Vibrant paintings of Santorini adorned the walls, transporting me to the Greek island.
A lively buzz filled the restaurant, created by the chatter of diners and clinking of glasses.
James was at a small table in the restaurant’s front window.
Today’s suit was navy—my favorite. It made his blue eyes stand out, drawing me to them.
“Hello, beautiful,” James stood from his seat, setting aside the paper he was reading to kiss me on the cheek.
“Hi, how are you?” I asked, relishing in the feel of his lips against my skin.
“I feel like I’m turning over a new leaf this week. I can’t explain it,” James said. There was an excitement to his words. Like he was just as excited as I was for whatever life was going to bring next.
“You aren’t planning on going back to the office after commuting all this way, are you?” I asked as I slid into the open seat across from him.
“No, I’m working from home for the rest of the day.
” There was an ease in James’s body language.
It felt like a striking change from when I’d first met him, but I realized it had been a gradual change over the course of the past few weeks.
He was more relaxed. I think I even heard his phone go off in his pants pocket and he didn’t make an immediate move to check it.
That he was even working from home for a day instead of staying at the office until the market closed was unusual.
“Something on the horizon for you with work?” I asked. “Have you thought further about Theo Drake’s offer to you?”
It had only been a few days since James’s business lunch with the new CEO of Rooster, but surely that was enough time to think this over.
Because, to me, it was a simple decision.
I know James had been hoping to start his own firm, but this was almost better.
James didn’t have to invest his own capital.
There weren’t as many risks. But James obviously needed more time to consider what was seemingly obvious to me.
“I’ve been thinking a lot about it,” James mused. “It’s a big decision to make. I wanted to go out on my own and battle with the big dogs, but there’s a lot of allure in trying something new. Venture capitalism could be rewarding.”
“I know when to stick in my lane, so I won’t try to tell you which choice is better. But I will tell you that the best decision is the one that feels right to you,” I told him. “You’ll know when it does.”
“I’ve been meaning to text you, but wasn’t the article supposed to post today?” James asked. “I didn’t get an alert.”
“Oh, I forgot to text you, too. Anthea said it was being pushed to Wednesday because of some celebrity’s wedding that took priority.”
“Damn celebrities,” James joked.
But I was already going back to something else he had said. “Wait, did you say you didn’t get an alert? Do you have web alerts on for my posts?”
James looked embarrassed for only a moment before he gave me a casual shrug. “They are about me, aren’t they? I want to make sure that you do me justice.”
Before I could fully make sense of what that meant, my phone buzzed on the table and Roxie’s name lit up the screen.
Normally, I would have ignored a phone call during a lunch.
But Roxie never called me during the day.
She was a strictly text-only type of girl.
So getting a call from her in the middle of the day rang as an emergency.
“Do you mind? I think this is something urgent.”
James waved off my concern about being rude. “Take it. Tell Roxie I said hi.”
“Be careful what you wish for. She’ll invite herself here by the end of the conversation,” I told him.
I clicked to answer the call, already nervous about what Roxie was going to throw at me now.
“What’s wrong?” I answered, cutting to the chase.
The sound of a taxi honking came through the line. “I have the walk sign, asshole!” Roxie shouted.
James raised a curious brow as he heard the tin of Roxie’s yell.
“What’s wrong?” I tried again.
“Why would you assume something’s wrong?” Roxie asked once I finally grabbed her attention.
“Because you never call me in the middle of the day. You reserve that for emergencies only.”
“We should really fix that, but you’re right,” Roxie replied. “This is one of those times.”
I sucked in a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come.
“I quit the art gallery.” Roxie must have called me right after she left. I could tell she was on foot, and not even losing her breath as she walked the streets of New York City, most likely in heels.
“You quit?” I asked incredulously.