Page 2 of Pick Me This Time

It was about time we met with a lawyer or an estate planner so I wouldn’t be stuck with another mess once he eventually kicked the bucket. But Henry didn’t need to know that either.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “Some of us take our responsibilities seriously. We don’t get lost in the clubs in the Hamptons when we’re supposed to be at work, for example.”

He paled a little in response to the barely veiled threat and Bryant burst out laughing. “Burn!”

Jenna smirked at me. “Well played. I’d almost forgotten about his mishap in the Hamptons.”

I shrugged. “Just saying. I’m not worried about turning my back and it’s not because I loved high school. My dad is getting older and there’s some stuff he and I need to go over. The reunion just gave me an added incentive to get the trip over with, is all.”

Henry cocked his head, still a little pale, but at least he seemed to be over the urge to give me meaningless empty warnings about the timing of my absence. “Where is home, anyway? I just realized I don’t even know where you’re from.”

“Allisburg,” I said curtly.

“Where is that?” Bryant frowned. “Maine?”

“Vermont,” I said.

Jenna’s head jerked a little. “You’re from a small town in Vermont?”

“Yep.” I arched an eyebrow at her. “Surprised?”

“Very.” She studied my face like she was searching for any sign of country on it, but she wouldn’t find anything.

I’d long since left that life behind. I folded my arms as I relaxed in my chair at our cocktail table, smirking when her gaze finally came back to mine. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, honey. Not so much that I don’t know about you.”

Acknowledgment flashed in her eyes and she nodded, quickly averting her gaze. Another message delivered.

Bryant shrank in on himself a little and I grinned. Mission accomplished.

I picked up my beer, but Henry spoke again before I could take a sip. “You’re a country bumpkin? What the hell, man? How did we not know that?”

I shrugged, playing it off when the truth was that they hadn’t known because I’d made a point of not telling them. I wasn’t ashamed of my roots, but these people weren’t my friends.

We drank together. We worked together. Occasionally, we even played wingman for each other. But we were not friends.

We were rivals.

It was a dog-eat-dog world we lived in and I’d never been bit. I didn’t plan on starting now.

“Does it matter where I come from?” I asked, turning the tables instead. “You’re from Florida and I’ve never given you shit about that.”

“You should, though,” Bryant joked, but then his features suddenly transformed when a group of women passed by. He sat up a little straighter, his gaze glued to their asses as they walked to the bar. When they reached it, he glanced at me. “Want to turn on that charm of yours for me before you leave?”

I drained my beer and double-tapped the bottle when it was empty. “Let’s do it.”

Finding an in with one of the women who gave me a smile as we walked up, I chatted to her for a bit before introducing Bryant, and then I left, surprisingly relieved to have an excuse tonight. These little after-work soirees of ours had grown old to me.

Boring.

I hadn’t come to Manhattan for boring.

After paying for my drink, I waved at the others and headed to my penthouse apartment, strangely melancholic as the sound of my keys hitting the table echoed through the empty space. I’d moved in here as soon as I’d been able to afford it and I’d been mighty proud of it at the time.

The place was sleek. Modern and spotless, but stale. Cold and lifeless.

I was a bachelor and it showed. My life consisted of work, happy hour, the gym, and a bi-monthly one-night stand. It was not exactly the glitz and glamor I’d been sold on back in business school.

Shaking my head at myself, I strode to my bedroom and didn’t bother switching on any lights. The ambient light from the city filtering in through my large windows was more than enough to see by and my bags were already packed for my trip. After I called for an Uber to take me to the airport, I just stood there, looking out at the life of the city below.