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CHAPTER ONE
Boston, MA
October
Josh
The city’s nightlife is beginning to rouse when I stroll into the bar, heading to join my coworker and best friend, Marcus Hunt, who’s nursing a beer. It’s Friday night. The upscale watering hole close to the university isn’t packed yet. But it will be.
We know from vast experience.
While I’d rather not kick off the weekend the usual way—with a nameless face, empty laughs, and a meaningless orgasm—it beats the hell out of sitting home alone and pining for what I’ll never have again.
“Hey.” Marcus waves. “Finally escape the office?”
As I slip onto the stool beside his, where he’s got a whiskey neat waiting for me, I nod. “Work was a beast. Chad rode me hard to ensure we’re prepped for the new exec’s arrival on Monday.”
“Did you finally get the scoop on the best-kept secret in the office?”
“Get this. Her name is Katherine Evans, and she has no financial or corporate experience whatsoever.”
He curses under his breath. “So the rumors are true?”
“Unfortunately.” And I sound every bit as annoyed as I feel.
Marcus scrubs his big palm over his ruthlessly short buzz cut. “You know hiring this woman wasn’t Chad’s idea.”
Since this isn’t how our boss and the CEO of Force Financial rolls? “Oh, it’s his wife’s, one hundred percent. Savannah is great, but…I don’t know about this decision.”
“She’s an out-of-the-box thinker. She’s been right way more than she’s been wrong. I’ll give her that.” He sighs. “But I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I, but not our department, not our problem.”
My pal snorts. “When has that head-in-the-sand shit ever worked with Chad?”
Does Marcus always have to be such a realist? “Shut up.”
“Any idea why she was hired? There were other good candidates. What are this woman’s qualifications?”
“She’s got a decent résumé of work via family business on both residential and commercial property development as an agent, contractor, and decorator. She also had a radio show in Phoenix that advised people about getting the max out of their property values. I just don’t know how that’s going to translate to corporate acquisitions.”
“Same. But can she be worse than a bean counter guessing which investment properties will become money-making resorts?”
He has a point, but after pushing back against my boss while flatly getting nowhere for the better part of the afternoon, I’m done. “Forget work until Monday, huh? TGIF. I see you started without me.” I nod toward the empty glass near his elbow and the half-finished beer in his hand. “How’s it going?”
“Not bad. Getting my flirt on with a blonde in the corner.”
I scan the place until I spot the woman in question. She’s attractive, and she’s eye-fucking him hard. She also looks barely legal to drink.
Since we’re both in our late thirties, I roll my eyes. “She’s a little young.”
He shrugs. “I doubt it’s her first rodeo.”
The way she’s flirting? Probably not, but Marcus is missing the point. He’s a hunter. He never appreciates anything that comes too easily, especially a piece of ass. It’s one reason I suspect he’s not enjoying his hollow hookups. And I’m convinced he taps the younger ones so he doesn’t have to take them seriously.
Three stools down, I spot a cute brunette pushing thirty. She’s got a nice smile and a nice rack. She wouldn’t be a horrible way to spend the night. But I can only muster enough enthusiasm for a vague smile in return.
“What else is bothering you? It’s something,” Marcus observes. “Those hedge-fund fuckers? They need to get their noses out of our shit.”
