Page 1 of Finance Bros

1

RYAN

Ihave the worst song stuck in my head. I blame my former stepdad. He had terrible taste in music. Eighties hair bands. And I’m not talking Guns N’ Roses or Metallica—nothing that stood the test of time. I mean Slaughter. Cinderella. Faster Pussycat. Shit no one my age has heard of but serves as a default soundtrack to my life whether I like it or not.

Tonight, the band is Poison. The song, “Every Rose Has Its Thorn.” The reason—I’m on a date, and I’m hoping to get laid. The date is the thorn, the rose—self-explanatory. The problem? I only know the chorus, so that one part is playing on a loop in the lead singer’s stupid twang, and I can’t shake it.

The law student sitting across from me must have seen something on my dating profile that appealed, so here I am, rolling through the thorns of social interaction in order to lie down in a bed of roses—Bon Jovi. She’s pretty. Her long, dark blond hair has lighter highlights around her face. She’s got a few freckles across her cheeks beneath bright blue eyes. She’s tiny, though. Like super petite. Short and skinny. I’m no giant, but she makes me feel like one. Her name is Ruby, which is maybe where the idea of roses came from.

We’ve been quietly studying our menus since the waitress dropped off our wine, which means it’s time for me to ask a thoughtful question in order to seem like I can hold a conversation. “So…law school…”

Ruby smiles, nodding encouragingly.

“What’s that like?” I ask.

“I mean, it’s competitive. Really busy. Tons of writing, even more reading.”

“But you like it?” I ask, drawing on my rudimentary communication skills.

“It’s a love-hate relationship for sure,” she says.

I set my menu down. “Thanks for taking the time out.”

Ruby smiles as she picks up her glass of wine. “Thanks for asking me out on an actual date. Most guys just invite me to their apartments.”

“Oh yeah?”

She shrugs likedating, am I right?“Usually it’s fine, but my ex was the last person to take me to dinner.”

“Oh.” Did I miss a memo? Am I fucking updating?

“Seriously, Ryan—it’s a good thing.”

She says that like I’m a damn unicorn, and I’m forced to wonder whether all the other women I’ve taken out think dinner is—what? Weird? Extra? Old-fashioned? Should I be skipping all this expensive shit—the whole getting to know you song and dance—and inviting them back to my place to get drunk and go to bed? It’d save time and money, and if that’s how the rest of guys in the Bay Area do it, who the fuck am I to buck the system?

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I blurt out, suddenly defensive.

She jerks her head.

I could have phrased that better. Way better. “I mean everybody has to eat, right?”

“Right.” She averts her gaze and takes a sip of wine. Afterswallowing, she says, “So you said you’re starting a new job Monday?”

“It’s an internship.”

“Oh.”

“But it could lead to a job—a really good job.”

“You’ve got your MBA, right?”

That’s on my dating profile. “Yes.” I might not look like the type, but I’m good at school. My whole life, I’ve wanted to be rich. I don’t believe in the saying money can’t buy everything. Of course it can. Maybe it can’t technically buy happiness, but it can sure as hell get me a ton of distractions.

“What’s the job?”

“Investment banking.”

“Nice. I’ve heard that’s a good gig. Great work if you can get it, right?”

---