Probably just to see her lips again.

As I was ordering glasses of water for the three of us, a roar sounded on my left. A bright red Ferrari swerved a U-turn in the middle of the street, swinging its way into a spot.

Simon stepped out of the car and walked over to Penelope’s side.

The patrons at the window “Oohed” and “Ahhed” as he helped her out. Photogs snapped pictures; people whispered and wondered about who they were.

Penelope’s eyes met mine, and they made their way over.

You are really fucking gorgeous. I stared at her as she walked.

I stood up to pull out the seat next to me, but Simon pulled out the other one. The one across from me.

He took the one between us.

“Was the second half of the play as good as the first?” I asked.

“It was all phenomenal,” Pen said. “Ten-star show.”

“Nice to know. I’ll have to get tickets someday.”

“Penelope was telling me that you own the IMAX Theater in Times Square,” Simon said it as more of a question. “You also dabble in real estate and restaurant chains?”

“Yeah,” I said. “My advisor suggested that I do that years ago.”

“I wish I could branch out like that.” He smiled. “My investors want me to focus on the fund and nothing else, but maybe one day they’ll let me.”

Thankfully, the waiter appeared before I could respond to that. She set down menus and a basket of bread, rattling off the chef’s special for the night.

“Will this be one check or three, Mr. Hunter?” she asked.

“One,” Simon and I said in unison.

“You should let me pay for it,” he said, placing a roll onto Penelope’s plate. “I mean, I was planning to treat Penelope to dinner anyway.”

“Fair enough.” I looked at the waitress. “One check.”

“I’ll return shortly to take down your orders.” She walked away.

“I’d like the oysters,” Penelope said, standing to her feet. “I’ll be back.” She shot me two winks and a smile, our shared “Check him out for me” signal before stepping away from the table.

We both stared at her until she disappeared around the corner.

“So,” Simon said, clearing his throat. “Penelope was telling me that you have an obsession with watches. I couldn’t help but notice the Yachtmaster on your wrist. Is that one of your favorites?”

“Yes.” I picked up my water. “Are you into watches as well?”

“Very much so.” He held out his wrist. His watch was the same as mine with a few adjustments.

“Very nice.” I was impressed. “How long did it take the designers to craft that?”

“Longer than I expected, but their new designer is a friend of mine,” he said. “She lets me have access to all of the newest ones before release.”

I raised my eyebrow. None of the watch designers I knew would let any customer request adjustments before the accessory was released. No matter how wealthy he or she was.

“Don’t tell anyone.” He must’ve read my mind. “She’s not supposed to do that and the design house would let her go if it got out.”

“I wouldn’t dare,” I said. “She’s willing to risk her status, just because you’re friends?”

“Because her husband is my friend and I’m the reason they’re married,” he said. “It’s strictly platonic. Are you and Penelope like that?”

“Married?”

“Platonic.”

“She’s dating you, isn’t she?”

He picked up his glass and took a slow sip.

“Nice Ferrari,” I said, needing to change the subject.

“Thank you. I saw your car collection in GQ this month. I was shocked that you didn’t reveal any custom ones.”

“I like being subtle.”

“Right.” He laughed. “Well, I never want to share the same thing as another man. I like to always go custom and keep my things at a far reach from others.”

I tapped my fingers against the table, wishing that Penelope would hurry the hell up and come back before this turned into a full-scale pissing match.

“I read that you like scrappy investment firms in Esquire,” Simon said. “If you’re ever interested in investing some of your money in a hedge fund with small returns but great long-term strategies, let me know. I manage three billion, which is a little more than what your company is worth, but I take on smaller clients, too.” He pulled out his business card, and I let it hang in the air for a few seconds.

Is he insinuating that he makes more money than me?

“Thank you for the offer,” I said, taking it. “I’ll be sure to check it out later this week, Simeon.”

“It’s Simon.”

“That’s what I said.”

Silence.

“Sorry I took so long.” Penelope returned to the table. “Have I missed anything exciting?”

“No,” Simon and I said in unison.

I cleared my throat and stood up from the table. “I realized that I have something to do for Lawrence tonight,” I said. It was nice meeting you, Simon. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for brunch at Wagner’s, Penelope.”

“You might see me, too.” Simon smiled. “She mentioned wanting to show me that place, and tomorrow sounds more than perfect.”

I walked away before I could say anything else.

Fourteen

Present Day

Penelope

I knocked on the front door of Wagner’s in the morning, hoping that Hayden’s security detail were the only people inside and that I’d get a few minutes alone to myself.

I fucking needed it …

The moment I saw Hayden at the theater last night, the butterflies I’d felt for Simon lost a fight to something far more powerful in my chest when I saw him.

The sight of him in a custom-black, three-piece suit had always been lethal to me when I was prepared for it. But when it caught me off guard?

There were no words to adequately describe it.

He’d ruined the rest of the play for me.

During the second act, I wasn’t witnessing the story on stage; I was envisioning Hayden pulling me into that corner all over again. Pressing his lips against mine and gripping my waist, claiming me in front of everyone and not giving a damn about any photogs that caught shots of us.

He’s your brother’s best friend, your best friend, and the ultimate playboy. Snap out of it, Penelope.

Those words were the only ones that seemed to lure some sense into my brain.

Letting out a breath, I knocked on the door again.

“Sorry about that Miss Penelope.” Hayden’s lead guard opened the door. “Happy Saturday.”

“Happy Saturday.” I took off my sunglasses and noticed Hayden sitting in the back, looking sexy as ever in jeans and a black T-shirt.

He’d already ordered my favorites—beignets and strawberries, and he was sipping a cup of coffee.

“Hey.” His eyes met mine as I approached.

“Hey.”