Page 155 of Finance Bros

Her mouth twists into an unpretty shape. “Who told you that? They’re full of shit.”

Apparently not.

“What are we talking about?” Bailey asks, taking her seat on my other side, her eyes on my hands.

“Fraternization,” I tell her.

“Fun,” she says.

Piper rises without a sound and moves to sit in her usual spot next to Lisette. Just then, Malcolm walks through the door. He’s not wearing one of his sluttier suits, and that’s the first thing I notice, but then I remember he spent last night at his place—theoretically—and maybe all his newer looks are still in my closet. The second thing I see are the dark circles under his eyes, betraying a lack of sleep, and as he gets closer, I notice the puffiness of his eyelids. Like he’s recently spent a hell of a lot of time crying.

Before I have time to ask him anything, Georgie breezes in and starts talking before they’re even sitting.

“Sorry folks, this’ll be brief. We have company today, and I have another conference to get to. There’s a shareholders’ meeting this afternoon, so the senior investors and analysts areall here to make presentations. If your mentors are okay with it, you’re welcome to sit in, and please make your own introductions. Any questions?”

We all, to some degree, look at each other. I barely understand a word Georgie just said, but I blame that on Malcolm and my urgent need to talk to him. But before I can, Isla appears in the doorway of the conference room and gestures for him to get up and come with her.

He and I share a look. “Later,” he mouths, and he looks fucking miserable.

It’s not the first time one of the mentors dragged us out of the huddle early, but it’s the first time Isla’s taken Malcolm. I can only assume she’s got one of the earlier presentations.

He gets up and goes with her. Bailey says, “Would have been nice if they gave us a heads up about this say—any other time than this morning.”

“Yeah.” I pick up my bag and push my chair back from the table. I’m already cursing my own stupidity for icing Malcolm out last night. In retrospect, there was no good reason for it. What if he needed to talk? Or needed to see me? Why couldn’t I have just assumed he was going to do what he said he was planning to do rather than have some last minute change of heart?

Charlie’s at the common room worktable, looking chill. Malcolm and Isla aren’t there. “You don’t have one of these presentations?” I ask, taking my spot next to him.

He chuckles. “No. But I’m helping Jess with hers later. You’re welcome to sit in.”

“Thanks,” I tell him before picking up some work I was doing yesterday and trying my best to concentrate while the room is buzzing with tension and more conversation than usual. With at least twenty tabs opened on my browser, I’m zoned in on a market analysis for a small business client when I feel a light tap on my shoulder.

I turn and look up, then I nearly come out of my skin with shock.

“Hi,” Norah says softly.

I’m standing before I can make any words come out, the instinct to hug her overriding any sense of where we are or what’s appropriate. She laughs as I put my arms around her, and she hugs me back.

The smell of her transports me immediately back to Portland nights. Sitting next to her in a cafe, across from her in her office, watching a movie with her on her couch after a study group broke up for the night.

Remembering where we are, I pull away and take a look at her. Her dark hair is thick and straight but styled with a soft wave at her shoulders. It’s glossy, and I remember the one time I kissed her, the way the strands slid through my fingers like silk.

Her big brown eyes are large and round, lined with long lashes. She has perfect pale, rosy skin and glossy burgundy lips. She’s in a pencil skirt and a white silk blouse with tiny black polka-dots that I remember. It makes me realize it really hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen her. A few months.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” I ask.

“I didn’t know until two days ago, and then I thought it might be a fun surprise.”

“I’m surprised,” I say, still taking her in. This is?—

Not good, actually.

I mean—it doesn’t have to be bad, but it’s definitely less than ideal. I haven’t been exactly straightforward with her about how I’ve been spending my time outside of work and the challenge. And I haven’t been exactly honest with Malcolm about how often she and I talk.

I know she’s seen the TikToks, and she might have thrown us a bone by subscribing to the Patreon, but I haven’t told her about Mal. Or me and Mal. While the tone of our conversations hasbeen a lot less future focused, especially over the last two weeks—more friendly—the last thing I told Mal about her was that she was where I saw my future.

And with her here…

“Hey, Norah. How’s it going?” Charlie asks from behind me.

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