Seven-Day Flirt on Fifth Avenue

Chapter 1

ONE

Ben

When I get asked how I became one of the most powerful players in New York City, I always give the same answer—I know a lot of people, and I like introducing them to each other.

It makes my success seem accidental, and it’s anything but. I’ve learned that it’s good to be underestimated. It’s difficult to do these days, as my reputation often precedes me. But still, I like to downplay my success. I’m British, after all.

The truth is, I’m a flirt. A professional flirt.

The most important part of putting deals together, fixing problems, making introductions is that everyone feels comfortable.

People trust you when they feel comfortable.

They say yes more easily when they think you’re on their side.

By flirting, I’m communicating that I like them. I admire them. I find them attractive.

People enjoy being flirted with, flattered, complimented—men or women, straight or gay.

It’s part of my MO. The key is to make it authentic.

In my experience, there’s something to like, admire, and find attractive in most people.

I just find that thing and reflect it back at whoever I’m talking to.

Defenses fall, weapons are relinquished. People relax.

So the real reason I’ve become successful is that first, I know what I want. Second, I’m good at figuring out who people are and what they want. And finally, I get people what they want by getting them to like and trust me.

That’s all it takes.

Most parties I go to, I have a list of people I want to talk to and another list of things I want to achieve by the end of the evening. Of course, no one knows that I have an agenda for every social occasion I attend. I’m smarter than to let it show.

But tonight there’s no agenda. Tonight, I’m celebrating with my only real friend.

I’ve known Deacon since we went to university in England together.

We’ve grown up together. I never thought I’d see the day when I would be at his engagement party, but I’m happy for him.

I really am. Tonight’s dinner is purely social.

It doesn’t mean that I won’t be networking. Flirting. I’ll still be making sure I know who everyone in the room is, and I’ll make sure I’ve made a connection with each of them. Deacon is a successful guy, and there are some important people on tonight’s guest list, but I’m not on the clock.

As I scan the room, I see a few familiar faces and a few interesting people I didn’t expect to be here.

I didn’t know that Deacon knew Ryder Westbury.

I certainly didn’t know they were close enough for the man to be at this small celebration of Deacon and Aurora’s engagement.

I’ll definitely need to investigate that connection.

I head to the bar to get a drink and spot Deacon on the way, surrounded by gorgeous women—including Aurora.

“I feel like I’m missing out,” I say, as I join Deacon, glancing around. “Don’t be keeping all the beautiful women to yourself. You’re a taken man, Deacon.” This might be a social occasion but flirting is like breathing to me. I can’t just stop.

A woman with blonde hair and red lips, who’s arguably the most attractive of all the women, groans.

“Who’s this cheesy guy?” She’s wearing a stern expression, but despite that, I detect a warmth underneath.

Or maybe it’s hurt I can see in her. Either way, she’s gorgeous.

She’s wearing New York black, as are most women in the room, but it’s one of those dresses that has layers and the fabric is floaty tulle.

Even though I don’t know her very well, it seems to represent who she is perfectly—the somberness of the black with the romantic softness of the fabric.

I grin at the insult she’s just given me.

It’s been a while since a woman didn’t respond positively to my flirting.

I can’t remember when, in fact. I know I’m a good-looking guy.

There’s no point in false modesty. I also know I have the confidence that women like.

And I’m wealthy. Usually the combination of those factors is enough for women to be nice to me.

No matter whether they’re single, married, young or old, I enjoy the attention and they respond to that.

Deacon continues, “Avril, meet my best friend, Ben.”

She shakes her head. “Oh, Deacon, I’ve met that man a thousand times. There’s no need to introduce us.”

It’s the second time this woman has taken me off guard and I’ve known her five seconds. “Really?” I ask. “I’m sorry, but I don’t recognize you. When did we meet?” I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure I’ve not met this woman before. I always remember faces. My job depends on it.

“I don’t mean you specifically, I just mean…guys like you…The kind who make comments like, Don’t be keeping all the beautiful women to yourself, like we’re candy bars or beer or something.”

I let out a half laugh. I guess some people’s charming is another person’s cheesy.

But the women surrounding Deacon are all beautiful.

I’m not saying anything that’s not true, so how can it be cheesy?

I suppose she’s entitled to her opinion.

“Okay, then,” I say with a grin. “That put me in my place. Can I get you a drink?”

She continues to frown at me. “First, there’s a free bar.

Second, I own this hotel. Well, partly. And third…

Well, third, I already have one.” Avril lifts her martini.

It looks good. Nice and dirty. Just how I like it.

I glance toward the bar. There are quite a few people there.

Maybe I’ll wait to sit down before I drink anything. But a dirty martini is my weakness.

“Ignore her,” one of the other beautiful women talking to Deacon says. “She just got dumped, so we’re in the all men are assholes part of the breakup cycle.”

“Here,” Avril says, thrusting her martini at me. “Have this. If I have another drink, I risk losing enough inhibitions to break into song. And believe me, no one wants to hear me sing ‘I Will Survive’ at this point in the evening.”

I grin at the beauty in front of me.

She’s funny.

And I can’t believe she just gave me her drink.

I know it was because she didn’t want it.

I also know that she didn’t know I wanted it.

But all the same, not many people simply give me something without wanting or expecting anything in return.

Even if it’s a martini. I’m not bitter about it.

It’s just the way the world works, but Avril pushing that drink into my hand pulled me out of my everyday reality for a second.

“Can I get you something non-alcoholic?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “I’ve hydrated well today. I’ll just wait until we have some wine with dinner.” She pauses for a second and, holds my gaze. It feels like someone is smoothing down an ache in my chest, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “But thanks.”

Before I can say anything else, Aurora whisks Avril away and I’m left to file her in my mind, like I do with everyone new I meet.

Except, she’s not in the category I would usually put a new acquaintance.

She’s in a brand-new category all by herself.

It’s the For No Particular Reason, I’d Like to Know Her a Little Better,” category.

I’ve usually always got a reason why I’d want to know someone better.

But Avril’s different. I want to know her more, but not because I think she’ll be useful—she might be, I have no idea.

No, the reason I want to know Avril better is because she surprised me several times tonight in the space of about two and a half minutes. That doesn’t happen to me very often.

Or ever.

As the guests head into the dining room, I ensure I’m not too far behind Avril. She makes her way along the table, looking at the place cards. I see mine immediately, near Deacon and Aurora, but I scoop it up.

Avril’s talking to the man on her right and doesn’t notice me sliding into the chair next to hers.

I nod and smile at the woman opposite me—it’s the one who said Avril had just been dumped.

Before anyone notices I’m not where I’m supposed to be, I surreptitiously take the place card in front of me and slip it into my pocket and put mine in its place.

Poor Ray will have to find someone else to sit next to.

When Avril finishes her conversation with her neighbor, she shifts in her seat and realizes I’m sitting next to her.

“Oh, it’s you again. The cheesy guy.”

From deep inside me, there’s a pull. I’m not sure I’ve ever felt it before. Maybe it’s a red flag—a warning that the woman next to me is trouble. But for her, I’m not sure I mind getting into trouble.

“It’s me,” I reply. “Don’t worry. By the end of the evening, you’ll find me completely charming.”

“Well, the waiters have been instructed to keep the wine glasses topped up, so you never know.”

I laugh. “So you own this hotel?”

“With my brother and sister. You’ve met my sister, and roommate, Poppy.” She lifts her chin toward the woman opposite me.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were related.”

“Worth isn’t here tonight.”

My brain starts to put pieces of information together in my brain. “Worth? Huntington?”

“Yes. Don’t tell me, you know him. Everyone knows him.”

I grin. I’m usually the guy described as the man everyone knows. But I’m happy for Avril to think it’s her brother. “Yes, I know Worth. Good guy.”

“So, how do you keep busy?” she asks me. “Do you work, or try to outspend the compounding interest on your trust fund?”

I hold her gaze, wondering what to say next. “I don’t have a trust fund,” I say eventually.

She tilts her head. “Huh. I can’t decide whether that’s disappointing or not.” Her lips are pouty and ripe, and I try to ignore the urge to swipe my thumb over them.

All in good time.