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CHAPTER TWO

“Alison! Hello?”

I blinked. The sounds of glass clinking and people talking to each other flooded back to my ears as my eyes shifted around, taking in the golden hue of the upscale bar’s lights and dark wood accents. My best friends, Brooke Collins and Emilia Park, were staring at me.

“Sorry. I have work on my mind,” I said before taking a sip of my martini, reminding myself that I was here to relax, not overthink. This was the personal commitment I’d spoken about with Cameron. I hadn’t been lying — it wasn’t a date, just a catch-up with my two friends I hadn’t seen in a while because of our busy work schedules.

Emilia brushed the straight, black strands of her hair behind her shoulders, a sly smile crossing her dark red-tinted lips. “Work? Really?”

“What part of work? Your next project? Or your hot assistant?” Brooke asked, wiggling her eyebrows as Emilia laughed.

Brooke and Emilia had been my friends since college. We’d bonded quickly because we were all career-focused, and we’d achieved our goals. I had my firm, Brooke was a successful lawyer, and Emilia was a consultant at a huge finance company.

We knew each other’s secrets, so of course they knew how I felt about Cameron, and they teased me about my crush constantly.

“No,” I protested, but the lie sounded flimsy, even to me.

“Your expression was a dead giveaway,” Brooke said. “I’d describe it as a mix of annoyance and dreaminess.”

“With a generous sprinkle of carnal desire,” Emilia added.

Annoyance, dreaminess, and carnal desire. How would that even show on a face?

“But don’t worry,” Emilia said. “The perfect solution will present itself tomorrow night.”

“The perfect solution?” I echoed.

Emilia took a long sip of her cocktail, keeping me in suspense. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten about your date. You've already rescheduled once. Do it again, and the poor man will think you're not into him.”

It took me a second to understand, then I straightened up, incredulous. “What do you mean the solution to Cameron Holmes is Russell MacArthur? ”

Several weeks ago, Emilia had set up a blind date with an investment banker who worked in the same office building as her. If it was up to me, I’d cancel the date altogether — I had no interest in spending time with a literal stranger — but I didn’t want to be ungrateful.

“Cameron clearly bothers you. Russell will be a distraction,” Emilia explained.

“Cameron doesn’t bother me,” I replied. “He’s just…irksome.”

“Irksome, and six foot three,” Brooke teased.

"And as strong as an ox,” Emilia added.

They exchanged smiles.

I rolled my eyes. “I’m not talking about this again,” I said, picking up my drink and taking a long sip, relishing the hit of alcohol.

“I don't know why you're so embarrassed about this kind of stuff,” Brooke said. “Granted, he's not my type.” That was an understatement—her type tended to be red flags, often twice her age.

“He's not my type either,” Emilia added, “but if I knew for certain that you wouldn't start a catfight, I'd ask him out. He’s cute.”

“I wouldn't start a catfight,” I said indignantly. “You can have him.”

The two of them exchanged a look, which irritated me even more. “Actually, no one can have him,” I amended, “because he’s not available to have. He's my employee, and I won't have him complain about his boss’s friends harassing him. Or his boss, for that matter.”

“Come on, he's a man. I'm sure there's nothing more he'd want to do than unbutton those white blouses you always wear,” Brooke said.

“Brooke,” I groaned, and this time I didn’t feel just irritated, but pained too. There was nothing I hated more than wanting something I couldn’t have.

Her expression softened. “Sorry, babe. We’ll drop it.”

“Thank you,” I said. For a moment, I felt embarrassed for exposing my emotions so clearly to my friends, but at the same time, I knew I could trust them with anything.

“Be honest with us,” Brooke said. “Are you excited to see Russell tomorrow? Because if you really don't want to go, then you can call it off. There's no point wasting your time.”

I considered it. “No, I’ll go. I know you two were half joking before, but it would be a good distraction. Besides, I should probably fix my work-life balance,” I said, thinking of Cameron’s words.

Brooke smiled. “I think it’ll be good for you.”

“Good stress relief too,” Emilia added, raising both of her brows playfully.

I couldn’t suppress the laugh that escaped me. Emilia was right — I was high-strung all the time, and maybe Russell would be a good way to work out all of my frustrations .

The following night, I regretted everything.

I sighed as I stared at myself in my bathroom mirror, seeing a woman all dressed up in a gorgeous blue cocktail dress, her long brown hair perfectly curled. She should be excited about her date tonight.

But she wasn’t. I wasn’t.

I indulged in a daydream of ditching my dress and makeup for a hot bath and an early night, but then I thought of my friends’ disappointed faces. They wanted me to go out and have fun because they knew it was good for me. I wouldn’t be able to work twenty-four seven forever.

What would life be like, five, ten, fifteen years from now? Would Firth Marketing still be successful? Would I still be working late hours? Would Cameron still be my assistant?

No, of course not. He was clever, charming, and hard-working. Someday, he’d leave my side to be a high-powered executive at a different company. He’d have a beautiful wife and children, probably three daughters with the same light blue eyes.

I shook my head. I needed to stop thinking about Cameron. Who knew? Maybe Russell McArthur would be the most alluring person I’d ever met in my entire life. I wasn't particularly optimistic about the fact, but the least I could do was try .

I glanced at my phone and realized I was running late. I was never late. Being on time was late in the business world. I quickly spritzed on some Dior perfume that Emilia had bought me as a birthday gift, grabbed my handbag, and dashed out the door.

I arrived at the restaurant five minutes late.

The Cavallino had only opened two months ago and its cuisine had been lavished with praise in all the local publications. Russell had chosen it for our date. To be honest, I was impressed he’d been able to get a reservation.

My heels lightly clicked against the sleek, wooden floor as I strode through the restaurant, my eyes sweeping left to right over the faces of other patrons. Couples. Business partners. Friends.

Finally, I spotted a single man sitting at a white-clothed table toward the back of the restaurant. He was tall, with short brown hair, just as Emilia had described. He stood up as I approached.

“I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long,” I said.

“Not at all, Alison,” he replied, kissing me on the cheek. He leaned back to look at me, his gaze sweeping slowly over my body. “You’re a very beautiful woman.”

I smiled and sat down, noticing two glasses of red wine on the table. It was a kind gesture, even though I much preferred white wine.

Emilia had mentioned he worked in investment banking, and he looked like it, from the confident way he sat to his expensive haircut, to the silver watch that glittered on his wrist.

Cameron wore a modest watch with a worn leather band. I’d always wondered about it and considered buying him a new one for Christmas — purely as a thank you for all his hard work — but then I’d overheard him telling a coworker that it had been a gift from his uncle.

I pushed thoughts of Cameron away. “Emilia mentioned you’re in investment banking,” I said. “That must be interesting.”

“Interesting doesn’t even cover it,” Russell chuckled as he sat up straighter, his hands moving animatedly as he spoke. “I work with all sorts of clients. More than you can even imagine. Every day, I work and get them hundreds of thousands of dollars. It’s the most rewarding job in the world.”

He was certainly passionate. I couldn’t judge his enthusiasm because I felt the same about my own work.

He told me about the prestige of his firm, the competition among his colleagues, and that work was becoming hectic because it was approaching the end of the quarter.

I nodded, trying very hard to look as if the existence of financial quarters were new to me.

He wrapped up his recount of his latest client, then gestured at the menus. “Have you been here before?”

“I haven’t,” I said, taking the opportunity to look around. Warm lighting emitted from abstract lamps, the waiters were smartly dressed, and behind the bar was a wall of liquor bottles, glittering like magical potions.

“The food’s fantastic,” Russell said. “I’ve been here quite a few times. Can I make a few recommendations?”

“Of course,” I said. He pointed out some items on the menu. “I’d say the lamb is the best,” he finished. “Did you want anything else to drink?”

He must have noticed I’d only taken a few sips of my wine. “Tap water would be fine.”

He caught the attention of a passing waiter, and ordered, finishing with “the lamb and a glass of sparkling water for the lady.” He smiled at me.

I stared, then forced a smile. I knew perfectly well how to be charming in business situations, but tonight I felt off. Maybe it was because I wasn't negotiating a business deal. I wasn't trying to get anything out of this man.

Well. There was…stress relief. I heard the words in my friends’ laughing voices. I looked at the man sitting across from me, but before I could even start to imagine him in that sort of way, he started talking about the time he had dinner with a local politician. Then, before I could get a word in edgeways, he talked about his regular gym routine and his recent holiday to Taipei.

Why was he bragging so much? Cameron never boasted like this.

Right. Russell was bragging because he was trying to impress me. This was a date. Impressing each other was what you were supposed to do.

Cameron never tried to impress me. But, then again, I suppose he didn’t need to.

To my relief, a waiter interrupted Russell’s monologue by bringing the meals. I had to admit that my lamb did look good — it was seasoned with salt and pepper, with pale sauce spread artfully across the plate and roasted vegetables on the side.

I took a bite and savory goodness burst across my taste buds. “Wow, that’s really good.”

“I told you,” Russell said smugly as he cut his steak. “Do you fine dine often?”

“Sometimes. I usually go to Vintello’s for business dinners.”

Russell lifted an eyebrow at me. “Business dinners. What do you do for work?”

“I have a marketing firm,” I explained. I would’ve expected Emilia to tell Russell what I did — maybe she had, and Russell had simply forgotten.

“You have a firm?” he asked, frowning.

“I’m the founder and the CEO,” I explained.

“Ah.” A pause. “Who is your business partner? A family member?”

“I don’t have a partner,” I said, careful to keep my voice pleasant. “I founded the firm myself.”

He took a moment to digest that. “Impressive,” he said after a long moment. “Small businesses are part of the backbone of the economy. Sure, it’s hard work just starting out, but if you put your mind to it, you’ll be making the big money in a few years.”

I opened my mouth to correct him because Firth Marketing was hardly a small business, but then I stopped myself, because frankly, I couldn’t be bothered. If Russell made assumptions about me and my career just because of how I looked, or the fact I was a woman, that was his problem, not mine.

I picked up my glass of water, deciding to lay off the wine. As soon as I took a sip, I was reminded that it was sparkling, not still, and it bubbled unpleasantly on my tongue. For a moment, I tried to deal with it because I didn’t want to seem picky, especially about something as trivial as water. But I hadn’t asked for sparkling.

“Is there anything else I can get you before bringing the check?” a waitress asked as she picked up our empty plates.

“Some tap water please,” I told her.

“Bottled,” Russell said.

“No, tap is perfectly fine.” My voice remained polite but firm, and I didn’t miss the twitch of Russell’s mouth.

“It must offer you a lot of freedom, being your own boss,” Russell said after the waiter had whisked away. “I’d love to be able to have full control over my timetable. You must be able to take several vacations. ”

I gave him a tight smile. “Not as many as you'd think.”

The night was going as brilliantly as I thought it would, and my only consolation was keeping track of every awful detail, so I could report them back to Brooke and Emilia later.

The silence between us stretched out. Russell sipped his red wine while I studied him. While he didn’t take my breath away the way Cameron did, he was objectively handsome, with his thick brown hair and square jaw.

I considered taking him home. It had been forever since I’d had sex, and occasionally I theorized that was why Cameron irritated me so much. If I could just work out my sexual frustration — get some stress relief — then maybe the next time I laid eyes on my executive assistant, he’d be just a man to me. Not an object of desire. Just another, ordinary man.

If I did ask Russell to come home with me, I was certain he’d say yes. Sure, he might think I was loose or “low-value” or whatever people were calling it these days, but I couldn’t care less about the opinions of a random investment banker.

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. Besides, if I did sleep with Russell, it wasn’t like I’d have to hear him talk. He could just pin me down and —

My eyes caught on some movement past Russell's head.

Across the restaurant, a couple was sitting down at the table in the corner. The man was tall and blond, and the woman wore a stunning sky-blue dress, her black hair falling over her shoulders like a waterfall of ink.

It was Cameron, here, on a date, with the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.