tonight. We’d never been to a public place together, and I would’ve loved to see him in a different environment.
“Be on time on Saturday,” Levi whispered into my ear. “I’ve got special plans for your birthday.”
He took a step away and ran a hand through his hair. I used the opportunity to get my heartbeat back to normal and grab my purse.
Chapter 9 — Levi
––––––––
T yler Sinclair still hadn’t returned my call, so I scrolled through my contacts and pressed his number again. Hopefully he’d answer.
I paced my apartment, regretting that I’d turned down the dinner invitation with Drake and his company. At the time I’d thought it was smart, but I ended up fretting about what the hell Beckham might be getting up to in my absence.
“Hey, motherfucker, I thought you dropped off the face of the earth,” Tyler greeted me after five rings. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Tyler and I liked sparring with one another.
“Hey. I’m just checking that you didn’t lose my number, and that’s why you haven’t returned my damn call. Or are you too busy screwing the rich fucks and their wives?” Tyler was a shrewd stockbroker on Wall Street who’d gone from nothing to millions in a matter of years by using his body and his brains. He wasn’t shy to admit it either.
He laughed. “Not funny. I’m thinking I’ll permanently delete your contact details after this conversation.”
“Hang on. You know I’m kidding,” I snorted. “Life’s busy and even though we both live in New York time just runs away sometimes. We should catch up for a drink soon.”
“Yeah, we should. I work insane hours and I know you do too. Comes with the territory . . . you wanna be successful in this business, it takes time and dedication. And screwing a lot of people,” he said with a chuckle, referring to my earlier tease. I liked a person who could laugh at themselves and Tyler was cool like that.
Even though I meant it as a joke, there was some truth in it. Tyler Sinclair was renowned for his canny ability to pick the right stocks that were on the rise and everyone with money wanted him to invest for them and multiply their fortunes. He was picky with his customers and drove a hard bargain when negotiating his cut. I had firsthand experience—even as his cousin he insisted on a large commission, but it was worth it because I was still way ahead even after making him richer.
I remembered one of the reasons I called him in the first place. “Hey, I saw you’re doing an interview on ABN next week. Just wanted to wish you good luck with Jake Monroe and warn you to watch out. The man has a reputation for being a snake.”
“Yeah, I know. But last time I interviewed with him I had more new clients than I knew what to do with afterwards.” Someone in the background spoke, and he excused himself for a moment. I sat on the sofa and crossed my ankle over my knee, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I held on, eager to continue the conversation and tap into his vast experience with women. Maybe he had something I could use to help me get closer to Montana.
“Sorry about that interruption,” he said. “By the way, I watched Montana Marx’s interview, and Jake sure had a few probing questions. She’s one hell of a smart woman . . . gorgeous, too. I’m surprised she isn’t taken, but she appears married to her career. Pity—she seems super sexy.”
My blood ran hot. I didn’t like other men talking about her that way—not even my cousin.
I changed the subject away from Montana. The less I said about her, the better, or else I might have said something I shouldn’t. “You always were a ladies’ man, Tyler. You have a good eye too. Any tips?”
“You have someone special you’re seeing?”
“Yeah. And I’d like to take it to the next level, but she’s resisting.”
Tyler made a coughing sound on the other side of the line. “That doesn’t sound too good, man. Usually
“Be on time on Saturday,” Levi whispered into my ear. “I’ve got special plans for your birthday.”
He took a step away and ran a hand through his hair. I used the opportunity to get my heartbeat back to normal and grab my purse.
Chapter 9 — Levi
––––––––
T yler Sinclair still hadn’t returned my call, so I scrolled through my contacts and pressed his number again. Hopefully he’d answer.
I paced my apartment, regretting that I’d turned down the dinner invitation with Drake and his company. At the time I’d thought it was smart, but I ended up fretting about what the hell Beckham might be getting up to in my absence.
“Hey, motherfucker, I thought you dropped off the face of the earth,” Tyler greeted me after five rings. “I haven’t heard from you in a while.” Tyler and I liked sparring with one another.
“Hey. I’m just checking that you didn’t lose my number, and that’s why you haven’t returned my damn call. Or are you too busy screwing the rich fucks and their wives?” Tyler was a shrewd stockbroker on Wall Street who’d gone from nothing to millions in a matter of years by using his body and his brains. He wasn’t shy to admit it either.
He laughed. “Not funny. I’m thinking I’ll permanently delete your contact details after this conversation.”
“Hang on. You know I’m kidding,” I snorted. “Life’s busy and even though we both live in New York time just runs away sometimes. We should catch up for a drink soon.”
“Yeah, we should. I work insane hours and I know you do too. Comes with the territory . . . you wanna be successful in this business, it takes time and dedication. And screwing a lot of people,” he said with a chuckle, referring to my earlier tease. I liked a person who could laugh at themselves and Tyler was cool like that.
Even though I meant it as a joke, there was some truth in it. Tyler Sinclair was renowned for his canny ability to pick the right stocks that were on the rise and everyone with money wanted him to invest for them and multiply their fortunes. He was picky with his customers and drove a hard bargain when negotiating his cut. I had firsthand experience—even as his cousin he insisted on a large commission, but it was worth it because I was still way ahead even after making him richer.
I remembered one of the reasons I called him in the first place. “Hey, I saw you’re doing an interview on ABN next week. Just wanted to wish you good luck with Jake Monroe and warn you to watch out. The man has a reputation for being a snake.”
“Yeah, I know. But last time I interviewed with him I had more new clients than I knew what to do with afterwards.” Someone in the background spoke, and he excused himself for a moment. I sat on the sofa and crossed my ankle over my knee, drumming my fingers on the armrest as I held on, eager to continue the conversation and tap into his vast experience with women. Maybe he had something I could use to help me get closer to Montana.
“Sorry about that interruption,” he said. “By the way, I watched Montana Marx’s interview, and Jake sure had a few probing questions. She’s one hell of a smart woman . . . gorgeous, too. I’m surprised she isn’t taken, but she appears married to her career. Pity—she seems super sexy.”
My blood ran hot. I didn’t like other men talking about her that way—not even my cousin.
I changed the subject away from Montana. The less I said about her, the better, or else I might have said something I shouldn’t. “You always were a ladies’ man, Tyler. You have a good eye too. Any tips?”
“You have someone special you’re seeing?”
“Yeah. And I’d like to take it to the next level, but she’s resisting.”
Tyler made a coughing sound on the other side of the line. “That doesn’t sound too good, man. Usually
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