Another low laugh. The ice in his drink clinks against the glass. It makes her stomach tense.

“Probably for the best. I didn’t think you wanted to go home with someone living in a flex space in Murray Hill, anyway. Let me buy you a drink.”

“One drink,” Alina says, willing stern warning into her voice. Unsure if it’s directed at herself or him. “Are you going to try and explain shorting to me?”

He grins, incisors gleaming in the dim light.

“Only if you ask nicely.”

—

Alina gets more than she bargained for with Wall Street tsar Aleksander Morozova.

Or: Astrology GF Alina, Stockmarket BF Sasha