Page 128 of New York Love Stories: Vol. 1

That’s true, so I drink. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you know about the list, I might as well tell you that I already did number one.”

“You gave in? What made you do that?” With a cocked brow, he sits back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Figured it was the easiest, and that might satisfy her if she asks.”

“Maybe. What’d you have to do?”

Sitting forward, I curl my shoulders. “Waste my fucking time, that’s what. It was the reason I was late to work on Monday.”

Chuckling, he shifts around in his seat and rests his arm on the back of the chair. “And look. You lived to tell the tale. Now what was number one?”

“I had to be lying in the grass at 9:17 AM on a sunny day. On a weekday, to be precise.”

With his brow wrinkled, he looks as confused as I still am regarding this list. “Why?”

The liquor has loosened me up, so although I’m not usually the shrugging kind, I do it and then slump back down. “I don’t know.”

“What happened?”

“Was my life forever changed?No.Did I get dog shit on me?Yes.And then the dog’s owner was stalking me.” Rolling my neck to the side, I give it a good stretch. “We had it out on the sidewalk before I lost a jinx and ended up meeting her the next morning to buy her a coffee as payment.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“The debt for the jinx. It was actually quite funny because she?—”

“Huh? It sounds a lot like you’re talking about a woman you met while on one of Mom’s missions.”

“No, I’m not talking about the woman. She was cute but kind of weird. I was talking about 9:17 in the morning. It was just a coincidence we met at that time. Like I said?—”

Jackson returns and drops into his seat. “What’d I miss?”

I say, “Nothing.”

But my brother has to include the whole world in this embarrassing conversation. “Andrew met someone.”

“How long was I gone? Five minutes?”

Nick laughs. “Not here. He met her the other day.”

“Ah.” Jackson discovers his fresh drink and holds it up. “Well, here’s to meeting new people.”

We tap our glasses together and drink, and then Nick says, “Speaking of meeting people. Some guys just walked in who I want you to meet.”

And just like that, I’m reminded of why I’m in New York, of my goals, and try to forget about the distraction of the female persuasion.

I follow the direction of his gaze, and ask, “Oh yeah?”

“Big money, but they have shit portfolio managers. We could help them.”

“First, we have to land their accounts.”

He stands and dusts my shoulder. “We will. They’re brothers like us. Work together. Play together. Make money together.”

I look behind me. “Who are they?”

“The Everest brothers.”

In my head, that statement should have had a bigger climactic build than it did. Everyone’s heard of the Everest brothers. “Ethan Everest, the tech billionaire?”

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