Page 125 of The Silver Fox Brother

"It won't."

"If it does," she continues, ignoring me, "you better tell us immediately."

I take another drink and don't respond. The conversation shifts to safer topics. Kate's work trip to London. Amy's family drama in California. The new restaurant that opened in Tribeca that we need to try.

I'm starting to relax, starting to feel almost normal, when suddenly, Amy clears her throat and exchanges a quick glance with Kate.

"Okay. Well. Moving along." She pauses, then adds quickly,

"I hope you won't be upset, but I invited someone here to meet you."

I look at her sharply. "What?"

Amy gives me an apologetic smile.

"It's too late now."

Before I can respond, she's waving someone over.

"There he is!"

A man approaches our booth. Tall, dark hair, good-looking in a clean-cut, investment banker kind of way. He's wearing a suit without the tie, sleeves rolled up, holding a beer.

I shoot Amy a look that clearly sayswe're going to talk about this later, but she just grins at me.

"Winter, this is Jake," Amy says, beaming.

"Jake, this is Winter. The incredibly talented interior designer I was telling you about."

Jake extends his hand and I shake it. His grip is firm, professional.

"Nice to meet you," he says, sliding into the booth next to Amy.

"Amy's been talking about you all week."

"All good things, I hope."

"Exclusively good things." He smiles, and it's a nice smile. Warm. Genuine.

We talk for the next hour. Jake works in private equity, just moved to New York from San Francisco, knows Amy through a mutual friend from college. He's smart, successful, clearly interested.

He asks about my work, and I tell him about the design studio, about the projects I'm managing. He asks intelligent questions, shows genuine interest, laughs at the right moments.

At some point, he pulls out his phone.

"I'd love to continue this conversation sometime," he says.

"Can I get your number?"

I hesitate for just a second, then rattle off my number. Jake types it into his phone and sends me a text so I have his contact.

Jake: Nice meeting you, Winter.

"I'll text you next week," he says.

"Maybe we can grab dinner?"

"Sure. That sounds good."