Tori’s usual evening consisted of heating up a ready-to-eat meal or calling takeout, then watching a show or reading a book before bed. She had friends, but the rest of them also worked, so they only met up occasionally.

When she attempted to socialize, things usually went awry.

Hey, wanna meet up for a drink? She asked, and within a few seconds, three responses would turn up in the group chat she and her best friends had set up. I’m busy with Carter, was Cassie’s usual MO, although sometimes the word Carter was replaced by the word deadline. Sorry, volunteering at the hospital tonight, came from Amelia. Erin went with, my PJs are on, and they’d all learned, long ago, that that process was irreversible until morning. When she was really desperate for human interaction, she cast a broader net, asking friends she wasn’t all that close to. But Piper and Lucy were usually busy with their men, and the cool gal Cassie had introduced into their crowd, Tessa, would genuinely break her leg rather than drag her ass out the door.

Then there were the socialites she knew. She didn’t even bother trying anymore, because their responses generally were something along the line of I’m on a desert island, getting massaged by a half-naked Adonis, come join me. She wished.

They’d only known each other for a couple of months, but she was considering seeing if Lexi wanted to start hanging around out of the office because, well, she was desperate. If she didn’t start to at least pretend having a life, she was going to grow gray hair and adopt a bunch of cats in no time.

So, she’d said yes. Having some people to eat out with wasn’t something she could resist.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that…

That evening was considerably more entertaining than her usual Monday night. For one, Carter led them to one of her favorite steak houses. Bryant had promised beer, but when they got there, the men were good sports about sharing a bottle of merlot instead. Double win.

“Let’s look at these babies,” Tori said, eagerly reaching for the folders Bryant had brought with him. She whistled after opening the first one.

“Damn. You’re not pulling the punches.”

Bryant shrugged. “I’ll be expected to entertain business partners at home, I’m sure. Plus, these are an investment.”

“Not this year they aren’t. It’s not like you’re grabbing a bargain while the market collapses; the prices have done nothing but increase in the last few years.”

“Not necessarily,” Carter butted in, pulling his iPad up. “See, the fluctuations of the market in NYC aren’t something you can generalize that way. You can’t speak about Queens, the Bronx, and Manhattan at the same time. Even just in Manhattan, there’s a humongous difference between a studio in Hell’s Kitchen and what Bryant is looking at. The sales were down on luxury buildings last quarter, and that made them drop the prices.”

She frowned. “So, you’re telling me that, instead of looking at two bedrooms, I should also look at these.”

“You’re going to buy?”

She sighed. “When my dad died, my mother got all his money and the family home, of course, but he left me his share in Croft Advertising. I didn’t think about that too much, but I got my share of the profits last quarter, and…well, let’s just say I’m not comfortable sitting on that sort of money. I’ll look at investing, eventually, but for now, I guess that paying rent in the city doesn’t really make sense when I can buy a place outright now.”

It just felt wrong, because the reason why she could afford to do so was because her father was dead. But he wouldn’t have wanted her to let that stop her.

The few apartments she’d seen so far had been various shades of terrible, so she’d put the project on hold. It wasn’t like she had a ton of time off.

The folders she was now flipping through were anything but terrible. Every single one of them made her want to drool.

“None of those houses scream bachelor pad,” she remarked.

“That would be because I’ve asked for the opposite. The place where I’m staying now is pretty much a bachelor’s pad - you’ve seen it, it’s pretty clinical. In London, I lived in the Croft family home, an old building with character. Call me spoiled, but I prefer that sort of vibe.”

“She’s seen it, hm?” Carter asked with a teasing smile.

Shit. Tori could feel her cheeks burning.

“Don’t start. You saw us leave together, so that’s not news.”

“Maybe. I just didn’t expect you to take her to The Tower.”

Bryant’s easy smile disappeared, and his eyes flash, cautioning Carter. “We went straight up to my apartment. Tori hasn’t seen the rest of The Tower.”

They were speaking about her without even looking at her, and it was pissing her off.

“Hello, gentlemen. Let me remove my invisibility cape and signal my presence.” They both turned to her, Carter, still amused, and Bryant, annoyed. “What’s The Tower?”

And, just like that, she knew. She had no idea how or why, but she could tell, something in the way Bryant’s eyes went dark green, before returning to their usual mesmerizing shade, like it was just a trick of the light, told her everything she could have wanted to know.

“Oh my god. That’s your…club. Am I right?”

Bryant flipped off Carter, who was just laughing now. “Wait, you’re into that sort of thing, too?”

Her eyes widened as she imagined Cassie, shy little Cassie, in leather, and with a whip in her hand.

Brain bleach. She needed brain bleach, stat.

“Not anymore. Quit the club years ago. Don’t get me wrong, it’s good fun while it lasted. I just wasn’t after a permanent fixture in my life, and I don’t see the appeal of being a Dom for a night. Submission is too intimate for one-night stands.”

Tori’s lips parted, and she was just about to ask if he was doing that sort of thing with Cassie, but she caught herself in time. “You know what, I’m going to just ignore everything I’ve heard and carry on looking at houses.”

She buried her head behind the folder in an attempt to hide her blush. God. She was having dinner and wine with two goddamned Doms. Yipee.

“Oh, that’s got to be expensive,” she said, stopping at a high ceilinged, renovated, and modernized penthouse with five bedrooms. The Palladian style, the original fixtures now fitted with elegant lighting, and the view of Central Park screamed opulence, but she couldn’t help herself from liking it. The pictures the agent had given them were of a furnished home that seemed almost boring. Everything inside needed to go, but imagining a colorful scheme, rather than the beige festival they had going on, she saw that the place definitely had a lot of potential. She loved that one of the walls was made of bricks, giving it a rustic feel.

“Picture it: dark wooden stuff, maybe mahogany. Brown sofas, with just a nice hint of red. Throw a half decent interior decorator in there and this place is going to be timeless, elegant, and perfect for chilling out or entertaining la-di-das. Plus, it’s the whole town house, not just an apartment. I love it. Hell, even Mother Dearest would approve.”

Bryant grimaced. “Not sure I want a place your mother would approve of.”

“Maybe, but how many homes do you think my mother and I would agree on?”

Bryant took the folder, flipped through it, purposefully staying expressionless until she pressed, “Weellll?”

He chuckled. “It looks pretty good. Carter, what do you think?”

“Can’t go wrong with Fifth Avenue. It’s going to be an arm and a leg, though. With…” he checked, “five bedrooms, an office, a billiard room, a library, and a gym, you’re looking at anywhere between fifteen and a hundred mil.”

Tori choked on the wine she was sipping. “Excuse me, did you just say fifteen to a hundred million dollars?”

Carter smirked, all the while checking his buzzing phone. “You pay for the view. It’s worth looking at, depending on the asking price. I’ll get someone to look at the history of the building for you, though.” He got up, and took his jacket from the back of his chair, pulling his wallet, and dropping a few twenties on the table. “I have to dash. My lady needs ingredients to make cupcakes.”

And, on that note, he practically ran out the door, leaving them alone in a restaurant.