Next morning, I returned to my office after wrapping up a seven a.m. meeting with our investment analysts. The guys—and one gal—had been working hard, and things were looking good for the firm’s upcoming quarter.
I closed my door and crossed to the floor-to-ceiling windows to check out the view of the San Francisco Bay, speckled with sailboats that looked like tiny toys, bouncing around in the choppy water.
I pulled out the piece of paper Saffi had thrust at me the night before. She’d run out of the club like a bat out of hell, which was probably for the best. I didn’t trust myself around her. She was young, she was beautiful, and she was off-limits. No way could I fuck around with my lawyer’s daughter.
But the piece of paper dangling from my fingers tortured me.
“Yo, boss.” My office door flew open, and my business partner, Monty, bounded in. He plopped down on the chair opposite my desk and put a foot up.
“Do you have to put your goddamn shoe on my desk?”
He rolled his eyes and moved his foot. “Sorry, princess, for spoiling your kingdom.”
I shoved Saffi’s scrap of paper back in my pocket and sat down opposite him. We’d been at graduate school together, worked in investment banking, and later opened our own hedge fund.
“What’s up, Mont? How’s that new analyst doing?”
His eyebrows rose. “You mean that hot as shit babe that just outshone every guy in the room? Dude, my dick was so hard for her during that meeting. I didn’t know how I’d get up and walk out when it ended. She’s something.”
I nodded, looking at Monty through narrowed eyes. “Remember, we’ve talked about this. No fucking the chicks in the office. Nothing could bring us down as fast as that kind of bullshit drama.”
“I hear ya. Not to worry. I’m keeping it tucked in. But that’s not to say some of the younger guys in the office won’t go for it. Hell, I would if I wasn’t the boss.”
“Let the younger guys do what they want. If they get caught up a creek without a paddle, that’s not our problem.”
Monty glanced at his watch. “So, you joining us tonight to play some ball? I got a court reserved at the club.”
I sat back and crossed my legs, one foot placed on the opposite knee. The paper crinkled in my pocket, like it was speaking to me. “I don’t know—”
“Oh, come on, man. You’re gonna puss out again?”
“Would you just relax? I have some things to do.” The folded corner of Saffi’s phone number poked me through my pants.
“What the hell do you have to do that’s so important?” Monty asked with a smirk.
Think fast.
“My brother’s had some trouble again.” Shit. Using Beau as an excuse? Now that was bad.
Monty leaned forward, concern crossing his face. “Oh, Jesus. I didn’t know. Sorry.”
My office door blew open again. Was there any peace in this goddamn place?
It was my admin. She could barge in anytime she wanted.
“Monty, your nine a.m. has arrived. They’re in the conference room.”
“Be right there.”
Monty stood. “All right, man. Well, maybe you can play next week.”
“For sure.” I nodded like I’d really go. We did this all the time.
As soon as the door closed and I was alone, I pulled out Saffi’s number. I ran my fingers over the ink, as if that would send me some kind of message.
Oh, fuck it.
I entered her number into my phone, and started typing out a text message.