Chapter 10
DANE
It had been a shit morning. If I didn’t get away from marketing and PR teams, I was going to go on a firing spree. They had all lost their damn minds. By the time I escaped the office for lunch, I was at my wit’s end.
I met Keith at a steakhouse in Midtown. He was already there when I arrived, sitting at our usual table by the window, scrolling through his phone.
“You look like hell,” he said by way of greeting.
“It’s been a morning.” I dropped into the chair across from him.
“Let me guess. The board is breathing down your neck about getting numbers up.”
“Among other things.” I didn’t elaborate. The less Keith knew about the fake dating scheme Heidi had cooked up, the better. He’d either think it was brilliant and encourage it, or he’d make some inappropriate comment about Ina that would make me want to punch him in the face.
Possibly both.
We ordered. Keith got the ribeye and I got the New York strip. I needed protein to get through the rest of my day.
“So,” Keith said, settling back in his chair with a drink I was going to guess was rum and Coke. I wasn’t going to say anything about one drink at lunch, but I hoped that’s where it ended. “I need a favor.”
“Not a chance.”
He scoffed. “You don’t even know what it is yet.”
“I know you well enough to know that when you start with ‘I need a favor,’ it’s going to be something I don’t want to do.”
He grinned, completely unbothered. “Fair point. But hear me out. I have the hots for your assistant.”
I went very still. “Can you repeat that? I could have sworn you said something stupid.”
“Your assistant. Ava. The cute one with the dark hair who sits outside your office. You probably wouldn’t know because you have blinders on. You wouldn’t see a beautiful woman if she was standing directly in front of your nose.” He took a sip of his drink. “I want you to put in a good word for me.”
“Her name is Ina,” I said, each word carefully controlled. “And no fucking way.”
“Come on, Dane. You’re her boss. She’ll listen to you.”
“Which is exactly why I’m not going to abuse that dynamic by playing matchmaker for you. I’m her boss, not her pimp.” I took a bite of my steak and slowly chewed trying to wash down the taste of anger building in my throat. “If you’re interested in Ina, talk to her yourself. Like an adult.”
Keith waved dismissively. “I’ve tried. She’s always busy, or running off to some meeting, or I don’t know. She just doesn’t seem interested. But if you put in a word for me, tell her I’m a good guy, it might help.”
I thought about that bull shit stapler sitting on the corner of Ina’s desk. The one Keith had given her as a “thoughtful” Secret Cupid gift.
“Maybe she’s not interested because you don’t know even know her name,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
“That’s what dates are for. Getting to know each other.” Keith shrugged. “Besides, that’s what the Cupid’s Arrow matchmakers do anyway, right? They pair people up and let them figure out if they’re compatible. I’m just cutting out the middleman.”
I gritted my teeth. “If you want to impress Ina, put in the actual work to get to know her. Find out what she likes. What she cares about. What makes her laugh.”
“Isn’t that what the matchmakers are for?”
“I think it’s a little different when you work with someone,” I said. “Shouldn’t you take the time to ask questions yourself?”
I wanted to bring up the stapler. The words were right there, burning on my tongue. He was trying to get me to put in a good word and he couldn’t bother to give her a real gift.
Keith’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it and grinned. “My assistant is out shopping for more gifts for Ava right now. I told her to get something nice. Something that shows I’m paying attention.”
Keith’s assistant was shopping for gifts. Of course she was. Because God forbid Keith actually put in the effort himself. He still didn’t know her name and it made me want to stab him with my fork.
“Is this your move with all the women you go for?” I asked. “You have to trick them into liking you?”
He shook his head. “It’s not a trick. The gifts are real and I’m paying for them. They’re just not chosen by me.”
“Yeah, that’s the part the feels like a trick.”
“Trust me, Ava doesn’t want me choosing her gifts. My assistant is a woman and they know what each other like. Why reinvent the wheel?”
“If you’re interested in going out with her, you should actually take the time to get to know her.”
“What do you think she might like?” he asked.
I stared at Keith, my irritation crystallizing into something sharper. “I think she might like a better gift exchange partner.”
“Don’t be a cockblock, Dane.” He leaned forward with that easy grin that was annoying me today for some reason. “You see her every day. You must have some idea what she likes. Help a friend out.”
I thought about that goddamn stapler.
“No,” I said flatly.
Keith’s smile faltered. “What?”
“Can you seriously not find a woman to date outside of work?” I spread my hands in question.
“Jesus, Dane. I’m just asking for a little help here. It’s not like I’m asking you to give me her hand in marriage. You’re not jumping on that. Someone should.”
“Watch it.”
His phone rang and he glanced at the screen. “I need to take this. Investor call. You good?”
“Yeah, take it. Let me eat in peace.”
He walked off toward the bar with his phone pressed to his ear.
Keith Billings had been in my life since college. He was a blue blood. Born rich. I had been the poor kid, getting by on scholarships.
Columbia had been the great equalizer, the place where the kid from Ireland with the working-class parents could sit in the same classrooms as the kid who summered in the Hamptons and had a trust fund that could buy a small country.
We’d been in the same economics program. Same study groups. Same social circles, eventually. Keith had money and connections. I had drive and intelligence and a chip on my shoulder the size of Manhattan.
My parents had come to New York when I was ten.
My mother had worked as a nurse’s aide while going to school at night to be an RN.
My father worked for the city—sanitation, then eventually moving up to an administrative role.
We were comfortable. Never hungry, never without heat or electricity.
But we were also very clearly at the bottom of New York’s social hierarchy.
I’d learned to hide my accent by the time I was fifteen.
Learned which clothes to wear, which music to listen to and how to blend in with the American kids at school.
By the time I got to Columbia, my accent was long gone.
And I could hold my own in conversations about the Hamptons even though I’d never been.
I taught myself how to navigate cocktail parties and networking events like I’d been born to it.
Keith had been useful in that transformation.
He’d introduced me to the right people, brought me to the right parties, and vouched for me in rooms I never would have accessed on my own.
When I started Cupid’s Arrow, he’d been one of my first investors.
He put in serious seed money when the company was just an idea.
I owed him for that.
But that didn’t mean I had to like the way he talked about women. The way he reduced them to conquests and transactions. It pissed me off he couldn’t even be bothered to remember Ina’s name but wanted me to “put in a good word” like she was some prize to be won.
Keith came back to the table, still on his phone, and I made a “wrap it up” gesture. He finished his call and I took the opportunity to signal for the check.
“Sorry about that,” Keith said, finally hanging up. “Company business, though. Where were we?”
“You were leaving to handle investor relations. I was going back to the office.”
He laughed. “Am I being dismissed?”
“Time and business wait for no man. Back to the salt mines.”
I paid the check and headed back to the office, my mind still churning.
The elevator opened onto my floor, and I immediately noticed that Ina’s desk was empty. Her computer was on, her coat was draped over her chair, but she wasn’t there.
Probably chatting with someone. She was a very friendly, outgoing person. I noticed people in the office loved her. She had quickly made her mark on the place. She was hard not to like with her bubbly personality. And you wouldn’t miss her with her colorful outfits.
I headed into my office and stopped short. There was a gift on my desk.
Another one of those beautifully wrapped boxes. This one was covered in what looked like hand-painted gold stars on deep blue paper, with a ribbon tied in an elaborate bow that seemed like it would require some skill.
My mystery Secret Cupid had struck again.
I sat down and carefully unwrapped the box. Inside, nestled in more pink tissue paper, was a black baseball cap.
I pulled it out and read the embroidered text on the front: I HATE EVERYTHING
I stared at it for a solid ten seconds.
Then I started laughing.
It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. The kind of gift that was simultaneously a joke and deeply, weirdly accurate. I did hate everything, or at least I was happy to give that impression. And whoever my Secret Cupid was, they’d leaned into it.
Just like the joke book.
I turned the hat over in my hands. It wasn’t some cheap novelty item ordered off . It was custom. My Secret Cupid had to have it made for me.
I set it on the corner of my desk where I could see it.
Through my open door, I had a perfect view of Ina’s desk. There was a box on her desk. It was wrapped. Kind of. It was a step above the brochure, but it was still a shitty wrap job.
I was pretty sure Ina was smart enough to know what kind of guy Keith was. But she did say she was looking for a husband. Maybe she liked him. Maybe they were right for each other.
I wouldn’t tell Ina not to date him but I was sure as hell not going to help him get in her pants. Unfortunately, I knew Keith just a little too well.
I didn’t want him to break my assistant’s heart. She was damn good at her job. I didn’t want to lose her.
Yeah, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.