Page 20 of King of Greed

“You’re beautiful.”

I turned my head, examining the speaker through the buzz of three gin and tonics and one apple martini. He looked like he was in his mid-twenties. Floppy hair, designer suit, and the preppy, clean-cut look of a fresh Ivy League grad turned investment banker.

Dominic would chew him up and spit him out for breakfast.

Stop thinking about Dominic.

“Thank you,” I said with a small smile. His pickup line wasn’t groundbreaking, but it was better than previous compliments on my “great tits” and offers to show me a “night I’d never forget.”

“I’m Drew.” He held out his hand.

“Alessandra.”

I wasn’t interested in him romantically or sexually. I was still married, and despite my frustration over Dominic’s stonewalling, I wasn’t a cheater. But Drew seemed nice enough, and I was gettingtired of drinking by myself. The whole point of going out was to meet new people.

Baby steps.

“So, Drew, what do you do?” I defaulted to basic small talk. As expected, my new barmate launched into an energetic spiel about the bank he worked for while I sipped my drink and tried to remember how to be a normal, single person on the dating scene again. I wasn’t singleyet,but I should start practicing, right?

Luckily, Drew possessed the enthusiasm of a newborn pup and carried the conversation on his own. Every now and then, he remembered to ask me a question about myself, and he scooted closer with every answer until his knee touched mine.

“That’s great,” he said after I gave him a brief overview of what I did for Floria Designs. “So, uh, are you free this weekend? I have tickets to the Yankees game. Box seats.” A hint of braggadocio entered his tone.

No, thanks.I’d never understood the fascination with baseball. I couldn’t evenseethe ball half the time.

I opened my mouth, but an icy voice sliced between us before I could respond.

“She’s not.” A hand rested on my lower back, followed by the brush of a soft wool suit and the scent of a familiar cologne. “Mywifeand I have plans.”

My entire body stiffened while Drew scrambled off his stool, his face red and his eyes starstruck. “Mr. Davenport! Wow, I am a huge fan. I’m Drew Ledgeholm. We learned about you in my finance class…”

I stifled a groan. Ofcoursehe recognized Dominic on sight. Everyone loved a rags-to-riches story, and Dominic was basically a legend to every bright-eyed Wall Street newcomer.

He seemed less than impressed by Drew’s fanboying. In fact, he looked like he was ready to tear the other man into pieces with his bare hands.

Drew must’ve realized it too because his voice eventually petered out. I pinpointed the moment Dominic’s revelation about me being his wife sank in. His face paled, and panic crept into his expression as his eyes darted between us.

“She’s your wife? I didn’t know…I mean, she’s not wearing…”

Three pairs of eyes honed in on my bare ring finger. Dominic’s expression darkened, and the temperature dropped another dozen degrees.

“Now you do.” If his voice had been cold before, it was positively arctic now. “I believe you have somewhere else to be. Don’t you, Drew?” The calm acknowledgment of his name came off more menacing than any direct thread could.

Drew didn’t bother answering. He fled, leaving me with one pissed-off husband and the embers of anger glowing in my stomach.

I shrugged off Dominic’s hand and spun to face him. “Seriously? What is wrong with you? You scared that poor boy half to death!”

“Thatpoor boywas hitting onmywife.” Dominic’s eyes blazed. “What did you expect me to do? Pat him on the back?”

“He didn’t know I was married.” I shook my head. “What are you doing here anyway? Don’t tell me you’re stalking me.” I wouldn’t put it past him. He would go to any length to win.

A touch of visible amusement cooled his anger. “The bar is down the street from my office,amor.I had a client meeting here.”

“Oh.”Right.I’d picked the bar out of a list of “best happy hour spots in the city” and completely forgot it was so close to Dominic’s workplace.

His expression softened. “Ask me again on another day, and my answer might be different. I would stalk you if it meant you’d talk to me again.”

“How romantic.”

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