“I see most of them every day.” I ignore the rest of her speech by scanning the Dow again since it closed moments ago in New York. I wouldn’t call today’s trading a blood bath…but close.
“Then you know how happy they are.”
“I do.” Sadly, the Hang Seng futures don’t make a rebound tomorrow seem likely. Not that I expected one, given inflation. “But there’s more than one way to be happy.”
“True, but you shouldn’t be alone.” Lisa sighs. “It’s time you realize that not everyone is out to hurt you.”
“Not everyone, no.” Just most. Parker is a prime example.
“If you give people a chance, they’ll learn to love you, not simply what you can do for them.”
That’s true of my family, my good friends, and Lisa. Everyone else…I’m skeptical. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
I click over to my favorite financial guru’s blog and start scanning her take on today’s negative trading. The damn housing market looks like shit again. Interest rates aren’t helping.
“You’re not listening.” Lisa sounds upset.
I sigh. She means well, and I need to stop being rude. “I hear you, and I appreciate your concern.” With my track record, I don’t see myself ever getting hitched. “But I love work, I’m married to my job, and I’m happy with the status quo.” I grin. “Unless you’re ready to divorce Dan…”
She rolls her eyes at my teasing. “Why would I marry a man barely older than my son? I’m not even sure men under thirty are house trained.”
“I am. Mostly.” I wink.
With an exasperated shake of her head, she turns for the door. Then she seems to remember something and whirls back. “Oh, your ten thirty, Mr. and Mrs. Hanson, canceled the call this morning. Family emergency. They rescheduled for tomorrow. I’ve already sent you their client intake forms, so—”
“I’ve read them and prepared a list of recommendations, but I’ll save it for then. Anything else?”
In the last three years, Lisa has become both my right and left hands. I can barely function professionally without her. But since my morning meeting is no longer coming, I should use that time to vet some overseas investment opportunities. I’ll probably start crafting a killer revenge plan to get back at Parker instead.
No time like the present.
“I booked a new appointment into that slot. She just happened to call moments after the Hansons. She’s coming in person.”
Unusual. Frowning, I launch the calendar on my laptop. “C. Rose? Who the hell is that?”
Lisa shrugs. “I thought you might know.”
“Not a clue. Client intake forms?”
“I sent them, but she warned that she wasn’t at her computer, so she wouldn’t get them completed before the meeting.”
Which is in less than fifteen minutes. Damn it, I don’t like to go into a consultation cold, and Ms. Rose obviously hasn’t been screened. “Is she qualified?”
We don’t touch clients with less than ten million to invest.
“N-not entirely. But she swore she would bring documentation with her.”
Unacceptable. “Lisa…”
She lets out an exasperated sigh. “All right. Fine. She sounded adorable. Young and energetic, smart and—”
“We don’t judge our clients, simply help them grow their wealth.”
“And, as I was saying before you interrupted, perky. She seemed very interested in you, too.”
“Perky isn’t a quality I enjoy in women.” I gravitate to a more sophisticated woman who likes documentaries, the outdoors, and sucking cock. “This is an investment brokerage, not a dating service.”
“Maybe in this instance it could be both?” She sounds hopeful.
Since Lisa is only trying to help, I don’t snap. “Sure. I can see the headline now: Beastly Broker Bangs Bodacious Client in Scandalous Seduction.”
“You don’t look all that beastly,” says an unfamiliar feminine voice that somehow sounds girlish and polished at once. “And I don’t know about banging since I’ve come here with a proposal, not a proposition. But maybe you weren’t talking about me, since I’m not that bodacious?”
I jerk my head up as Lisa winces and moves aside. In the doorway stands a brunette with wide dark eyes, long lashes, and a bee-stung mouth. She’s wearing a wraparound dress that clings to the curves of her breasts and reveals a hint of cleavage before banding around her tiny waist and hugging her lush hips. The silky fabric, in a shade of pink only slightly more sedate than Barbie, ends halfway down her alluring thighs. White heels with straps that wrap seductively around her ankles add a few inches to her below-average height.
If this woman is claiming she’s not gorgeous as hell, she’s a liar. She also looks barely old enough to drink. Innocence clings to her.
Idly, I wonder how fast I can corrupt her.
Then I pray like fuck this sex bomb isn’t my ten thirty.
I stand. “Can I help you, Ms.…”
“I-I’m, um…C. Rose,” she stutters. “I have an appointment.”
Damn it.
Lisa shoots me a clandestine smile that’s as smug as it is elated, because she knows this woman is my type. “Come in. Can I get you coffee? Water?”