I walk down Bleeker Street and see the sign for the bar where I’m meeting Emma. St epping inside, excitement
swells in my chest.
I’m in freaking New York. I made it. Okay, I haven’t made it made it yet but I’m here and I can feel it in my
bones that I’m one st ep closer.
The bar is swanky, with big gleaming windows embossed with the bar’s logo, wooden beams, walls of
exposed brick and lots of shiny chrome. I see Emma at a table by the window and she waves.
“I ordered us two Pinot Grigios,” she says as I slide into the plush leather booth. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Perfect.” It was my drink of choice in Hawaii, in fact, that gave me the exact amount of liquid courage I
needed to flirt with Mc Dreamy Dirty- Talking Big Dick Armani.
God, I miss him. It’s been over a month now since I enjoyed my dirty deeds done dirt cheap with the hot
stranger.
Of course I’ve regretted, late at night, our decision—my decision, more accurately—to give each other fake
names. And lie to him about where I was from.
But mostly I’m glad I did. Of course I am. I don’t have time for anything more than a perfect one-night stand,
which will remain preserved in my memory as a shining pillar of sunsets and pleasure. The worst thing I
could do would be to drag it out into the harsh light of reality. I’ll remember him as he was that one tropical
night.
“So, how’d the interview go?” Emma asks, her brown eyes bright. Emma has curly brown hair that frames her
face in shiny ringlets. She’s curvy and wears little round glasses and upmarket vintage clothes that give her a retro
edge. Her look is sort of fifties pin-up girl meets New York Gen Z.
“It went well, I think. I was nervous but they were nice enough. Very no nonsense and straight to the point.
Em, their office is insane. It has a rooftop pool with a swim-up bar, if you can believe that. And one week out of
every month is ‘creative,’ which means they encourage their employees to travel and meet people and explore.
They say it helps people come up with innovative ideas they might not have thought of in the same, day-in-day-out
setting.”
“Wow. That sounds amazing. Who interviewed you? The CEO?” “No, it was the HR Director, the CFO and
the leader of the team I’d be joining. If I get the job, that is.”
“When will you find out?” The waitress appears and I wait as she sets down our glasses of wine and two
menus before heading to the next table. “They said I was the last person to interview and that they’ll be meeting
tomorrow to make a final decision. They’ll notify the successful applicant as soon as Monday.”
“There’s no second round of interviews?” “No, they said they only do one round. That’s why the interview
was two hours long. They interviewed me, then they gave me a tour of the offices.”
“When does the job start?” “They’d want me to start as soon as possible. So I told them I could give my two
weeks’ notice and start immediately after that.”
“Maybe we should look for an apartment together, Dust. Just the two of us.”
“I’d love that. But you’re not going to believe this. They have staff accommodation. The company owns an
entire building and they offer apartments to a lot of the employees. The job I just applied for includes a
one-bedroom apartment as part of the employment package. Can you believe that?”
“Holy shit.”
“They also offer a signing bonus that’s literally more than I’d make in six months at Stellar Investments, plus
they’ll pay for all my moving costs.”
“Wow, Dust.” “I know. I was sold anyway by the job and the offices. But this company is next level. It’s
literally more than I could ever have thought to hope for.”
“That manifesting shit you talk about all the time is really paying off.” Emma seems impressed. “Don’t tell
me, the icing on the cake is that your boss is a total smoke show. I’ve heard that about Invested Enterprises.
Apparently the owners are brothers and all of them are insanely hot.”
I shrug. “I guess the CFO was an objectively handsome guy, now that you mention it. But I was too distracted
to notice much beyond that. I was totally focused on trying to come across as the perfect junior analyst.” There
was something almost familiar about Noah Maddox that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.
Emma holds up her glass of wine. “Well, let’s toast to my bestie getting her dream job in New York City.”
I clink my glass against hers. “And to my bestie. Thank you for putting me up this week. I couldn’t have done
it without you, Em.”
“We both know that’s not true,” she laughs, “but I’ll take the credit anyway.”
I take a sip of the cool, crisp wine. “Anyway, I can’t get my hopes up too soon. They told me they had four
hundred applications and narrowed it down to twelve interviews. So the competition is fierce.”
“I’ve got a good feeling about it, Dust. Of course they’ll want you. You’re beautiful. And hot. And smart.
You’re a power chick. Even if you don’t get this one—and I know you will—you can stay with me for as long as
you want to, whenever you want. I mean that.”
“Thank you, Em. You’re the best.” “Although, I really do hope you get the job because I don’t want to have to
abstain from sex for months on end just because I’ve got my best friend sharing my minuscule bed.”
“I can always crash on the couch if you need me to.” I happen to know she’s taken a break lately from the
dating apps because she secretly has a crush on her new work colleague, who told her his current relationship is on
the rocks. So she’s been patiently waiting to see how it plays out.
“I’m not an animal,” Emma laughs. “A paper-thin wall is all that exists between my bed and the very lumpy
couch. I mean, I love you, Dust, but
we have to have boundaries.” Her eyes flash mischievously at me. “But I guess there’s always the fire es cape
if I get desperate—if Joshua happens to have a break-up and needs a shoulder to cry on.”
“I hope you’re not hinging all your hopes on a guy who may or may not ever break up with his girlfriend.”
She sighs. “I know. It’s pathetic. I seem to have a thing for nerds, don’t judge.”
“No judgement here.” I smile at her, taking another sip of my wine. Pre- Hawaii, I’d always try to gently avoid
talking to Emma about her sex life. It’s hard to find much to say when you have no point of reference. But now?
I’m remembering how I rode Ace’s huge cock like I was a sex-crazed rodeo hero instead of an inexperienced
virgin. Since then, everything she describes sounds sort of... not nearly as romantic as my Hawaiian fairy tale.
I’ve told Emma most of what happened. She knows that Ace and I met at the beach bar and had one very hot
night in his penthouse suite. She even somehow got it out of me that I lost count of how many orgasms I had— and
that Ace was a beast between the sheets. But I’ve also downplayed exactly how hot and beautiful the whole thing
was and how much I’m still thinking about Ace. I know she’d think I’d lost my mind if she had any idea how hung
up on him I still am.
“If you get the job,” she says, “our next mission is to find you another scorching Wall Street suit. Since that
seems to be your new type.”
I dodge her suggestion gracefully. “If I get the job I’ll be too busy to date.”
“You don’t have to date,” Emma insists. “Just do what you did last time.”
I don’t bother telling her I’m not interested in another one-night stand. It’s a little d epressing to realize that
Ace has completely ruined me for one- night stands. How could anything top that?
But I’m determined to be optimistic about my future relationships, even if I can’t bring myself to think about
anything but him. Not yet, at least. He’s too fresh in my mind.
Emma’s internet stalking—and mine, secretly—didn’t come to much because I really don’t have a lot to go
on.
I’m sure he’s moved on. There’s no way a man like Ace, with all his money, ambition and experience, would
think twice about me. Even if I could track him down, what then? Subtly slide into his DMs?
Hi Ace, remember me? That would be more than a little humiliating, especially if he ignored me or deleted my
message. I really don’t need that kind of reality check when I’m on the verge of having everything I’ve ever
wanted.
Dreaming about our time in Hawaii... how Ace’s mouth felt when he sucked on me and the way his cock
throbbed and surged inside me... is giving me plenty to fantasize about.
For now, that’s enough. Because it has to be.