Harmony Evans - When Morning Comes

Isaac walked over to his desk and password-protected his computer. After glancing out his office window, he opened the door and was shrugging into his coat when Autumn stepped out of the opposite office.

“Well, hello!” she greeted him.

Isaac pulled on the lapels of his coat. “What are you doing in there?” he asked, pointing his finger at the closed door. “That’s the file room.”

She gave him a cheery smile. “It’s my office now.”

Before he could ask any more questions, she started to walk away.

“Where are we going to lunch? The cafeteria? Because I’m starved.”

The thought of food was distracting enough without having to watch her sumptuous bottom sway down the hall and not be able to cradle it in his hands. During his morning meetings, his mind had wandered into random thoughts of her—a kind of subtle curiosity that would only be satisfied by seeing and feeling this woman who could never be his, except in his dreams.

“Um. N-no,” he stuttered, feeling a little like Clark Kent chasing Lois as he quickly moved beside her. “I thought we’d go somewhere a little quieter. I have something I need to talk to you about.”

“Sounds serious. Is everything all right?”

“No, but it will be.”

It has to be, Isaac thought. He had to find a way to get back into Sterling’s good graces again. If he could pull this off, he’d make partner for sure.

He leaned against the wall as they waited for the elevator and admired the clean lines of the soft gray coat she wore. Tailored at the waist, it accentuated her trim figure and ended midthigh, which suited him just fine. The more leg she revealed the better, and from where he stood, Lord knows she had two mighty fine ones.

Damn.

There were thousands of women in New York, and the only one that had piqued his interest was off-limits and off-the-chain gorgeous.

Isaac cleared his throat and turned away before his lower body gave away his thoughts.

“It was snowing earlier. Better button up.”

Autumn nodded. “Good idea.”

Except for the occasional screech from the elevator cables, they rode down in silence until Autumn started to giggle.

He shifted his feet. “What’s so funny?”

Autumn pressed her lips together and finished buttoning her coat. “I was just remembering the look on Felicia’s face when she saw I had the office opposite yours. She was so pissed. I wonder why?”

Isaac knew why, but he wasn’t about to say anything. It was embarrassing enough how Felicia had thrown herself at him, luring him into that very room, where she was hidden among the boxes, stark naked.

He shuddered at the memory. Although he didn’t have a type, per se, Felicia definitely wasn’t it.

Now Autumn, on the other hand, was a different story. He’d only met her a few hours ago and already he was entertaining fantasies of a hot and heavy office romance. Whether this sudden lust was the result of a lack of coffee, fumes of sleep or zero sex, he couldn’t pinpoint. But if it involved two hearts possibly getting broken, one of them being his, he wasn’t about to take the risk.

The cold January air was like a rude slap in the face as they walked out of the Paxton Building. The winds didn’t help, either. The weatherman that morning had said they were blowing out of the northeast, but they felt like they were from Antarctica and their new home was in the bones of everyone who had ventured outside.

“Wh-where are we headed? I—I’m freezing already!” Autumn ground out through chattering teeth.

Isaac pulled up the collar of his black wool coat.

“Not far, just a few blocks.”

They joined the throng of people huddled against the chill and walked south, passing a variety of street vendors braving the cold and selling gloves, hats and scarves plastered with “NYC.”

“Toasties! Toasties! Two for a dollar,” cried one enterprising man. His West African lilt was as welcome as the little hand warmers he was selling.

Isaac stopped and bought four of them. He gave the guy a fifty-dollar bill and told him to keep the change.

“For the way back,” he said, giving a pair to Autumn.

He wished he could warm up her hands in his own way, but these would have to do.

Her grateful smile was all the warmth he needed. He’d almost forgotten how nice it felt to give to someone other than his children.

“Thanks. This wind is a killer. I forgot my gloves this morning. First-day jitters, I guess.”

A minute later, they arrived at Le Jardin Rouge, a popular Wall Street restaurant that was anything but French. As soon as they walked in, the din and clamor of spirited conversation floated around them.

Autumn looked around and Isaac could tell she wanted to cover her ears.

“You call this quiet?”

Isaac held up his hand as a waiter approached with a couple of menus.

“Mr. Mason, hello again. I have your regular table.”

He led them through a narrow hallway, past the kitchen, to a single room in the back.

Inside was a linen-covered table with two chairs and a fire roaring in the fireplace. They hung their coats on the two porcelain-tipped hooks on the wall and sat down.

“Thanks, Eric. Give us a moment, will you?”

After the waiter left, Isaac smiled and handed Autumn her menu.

“All better?” he asked, gesturing toward the low flames roaring in the fireplace.

Autumn nodded and moved her chair into place. “Much. And I can barely hear the other customers all the way back here.”

“Yes, I often bring clients by for lunch or when I need to get away from the office, I just come here by myself and work. It’s got a ton of character, no?”

“It’s lovely!” Autumn rubbed her hands together in front of the fire. “What’s good here?”

“Everything, mostly. The butternut squash soup is my favorite, especially on a chilly day like today. It’ll help warm us both up.”

The waiter entered the room with two bottles of mineral water. Isaac ordered the soups and a couple of side salads.

“That was awesome what you did back there,” Autumn remarked, unfolding her napkin. “For me and for that vendor.”

She poured her water into her glass and took a sip. “And here I thought all men who worked on Wall Street were ruthless penny-pinchers.”

Isaac felt the blood rush to the tips of his ears, something that happened whenever he was either very embarrassed or very angry. In this case, her compliment pleased him, but he merely shrugged.

He squeezed a lemon into his water. “Contrary to popular belief, I can be a nice guy. But in order to make money in this town, one can’t be afraid to push past boundaries and take risks.”

“Even when it involves breaking the law?”

Her question wasn’t posed in an accusatory tone. Still, it was unsettling and left a metallic taste in his mouth. Isaac was glad when the waiter approached the table with a basket of bread and their salads.

When they were alone again, Isaac asked, “Have you ever heard of the saying ‘Whoever controls the money makes the rules?’”

Autumn buttered her bread and nodded.

He took a deep breath. “Sometimes it’s true.”

And he was living it. Or at least he used to...

The meetings to which he was mysteriously not invited, the silence that often befell a room whenever he walked in, and the opportunities for new client business that lately seemed to go to someone else or he never even heard about in the first place.

He was the wealthiest senior investment banker on staff. In fact, he made more money in his yearly bonuses than in his regular salary. But, lately, it seemed as if everyone was treating him like some runny-nosed intern.

Isaac kept thinking the cold-shoulder treatment from Sterling and the other staff was because he was being groomed for the responsibilities of becoming an executive partner, where there was less day-to-day trading and managing clients and more focus on higher-level investment strategy for the firm overall.