Page 107 of Fifth Avenue Devil

"I'm only 32. Since when did that become too old to have fun?"

But even as the words leave my mouth, I know they ring hollow. The truth is, I've been feeling the pressure lately. The sidelong glances from board members, the not-so-subtle hints from my PR team about "settling down" and "presenting a more mature image".

I purse my lips and force myself to relax. "Look, maybe you're right. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to... explore my options." I turn to Holly and flash her my most disarming smile. "Any chance you could put me in touch with that matchmaker of yours?"

Holly's eyes light up. "Oh! You’re in luck. She's here tonight! The yacht race is a big event for her." She gestures towards a cluster of women near the bar. "That's Scarlet over there, in the red dress."

My gaze follows her pointing finger. I’ll admit that a plan is already forming in my mind. I could use a "nice girl" to appease the stockholders. Date someone for a while, break it off, play up my heartbreak. It's a perfect ruse.

"Thanks, honey. If you'll excuse me, I think I have a date with destiny." Leaving Amir and Holly in my wake, I saunter towards the group of women. Red dress. Red dress… My eyes lock on an elegant older lady with silver hair in a red crepe dress.

That must be Scarlet, I think to myself.

“Excuse me,” I say to her. “Are you Scarlet?”

The woman frowns at me. “No…”

Someone touches my arm. I turn, unprepared for what I see. A woman, a vision in red, steps forward. She looks a little puzzled. My breath catches in my throat.

"Mr. Fordham?" Her voice is like warm honey. "I'm Scarlet Espinoza. I believe you were looking for me?"

I blink, momentarily stunned. Scarlet is, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She’s all curves, and dark eyes, and full red lips. She’s the matchmaker? Noway.

I recover quickly, hiding my surprise. “You know my name?”

Scarlet smiles. “I make it my business to know everybody who’s anybody in New York City.”

"Call me Cash. I must say, Scarlet. If the women who use your service are half as stunning as you, I need to sign upyesterday."

Scarlet's eyebrow arches, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Fordham."

“Really?” I arch a brow. “How about into your bed?”

She pauses, wetting her lips with her tongue. Her gaze grows guarded. “I’m not on the market. But I know thirty women who are just your type.”

“Not on the market, huh?” I chuckle and lean in closer. The hint of her perfume wafting over to my nose is intoxicating. "Is that a challenge, Scarlet? Because I do love a good challenge."

Scarlet takes a small step back, maintaining her composure and her personal space. "It's just a statement of fact. Now, should I give you one of my business cards? Or is this just an elaborate ploy to hit on me?"

I can't help but admire her directness. Most women fall for my charm instantly. This back-and-forth, this is refreshing.

Why won’t Scarlet Espinoza simply fall at my feet? It’s refreshing, but still fucking annoying.

"Why can't it be both? I'm always open to exploring all my options."

She studies my face for a few moments before she sighs. Reaching into her purse, she pulls a business card out and hands it to me. “Call me if you decide it’s time to meet the woman of your dreams.” Then Scarlet turns away, moving amidst the crowd of young women. Though I stare at her for some time, she doesn’t glance my way again.

Damn. I look down at the card Scarlet handed me, running my thumb over the fine linen stock. I just met a new breed of woman. One that doesn’t want me the second I walk into a room. Curious.Verycurious.

I stroll back to where Derek is sitting. My ego is slightly bruised, but the cutthroat competitor in me is alert. Does Scarlet Espinoza know that she just roused the beast?Doubtful.

Derek is hunched over a mountain of seafood, shoveling crab cakes into his mouth with reckless abandon. "Easy there, champ," I quip, sliding into my seat. "Tasting like day-old seafood will not get you on the Wall Street Times’ most eligible bachelor list."

Derek barely looks up, waving a dismissive hand. "I need sustenance to recover from defeat," he mumbles through a mouthful. Swallowing, he adds, "So, how'd it go with the hot matchmaker? Is she in your little black book of dates yet?"

I lean back with a cocky grin plastered on my face, masking my frustration. "Oh, Scarlet's going in the black book. Have you seen her up close? She’s a wild mustang just waiting to be tamed."

Derek snorts. "Then why are you back here with me?"

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