“Right, because it’s so tough being in love,” Grace says, slipping an arm around Charlie. He smiles and tips her face up for a kiss, and I make a loud coughing noise.

“Take it to the office, kids. Isn’t that why you expensed a new couch?” I ask Charlie. He just laughs.

“One of these days, you’re going to fall flat on your ass for a woman, and I’m going to be here to say, ‘I told you so,’” he says. “And laugh. And take pictures.”

“Any deny the women of New York the pleasure of my company?” I lob back lightly. “Now that would be a crying shame.”

Charlie shakes his head like I’m a lost cause—conveniently forgetting that just a few months ago, he was just like me. Until Grace came along and knocked him flat on his ass. Now, he’s Mr. Monogamy, putting the rest of us bachelors to shame.

Or showing us what we’re missing.

I’d never admit it, but a part of me does wonder what it would be like to have someone like that in my life, too. One date, instead of a dozen. Someone who really knows me—and not just as the hot bachelor who’s always hooked up with the latest VIP passes…

Trouble is, I haven’t met her yet.

“Look, if there’s a woman out there who can keep up with me, I’m all ears.” I tell the pair of them. “And hands. And—”

“We get it,” Grace cuts me off with a snort.

“But until then? I’ll just have to keep having fun all on my lonesome.”

“But you’re open to it, right?” Grace brightens. “What are you looking for in a woman?”

Uh oh. She’s about as organized as they come, and with her new concierge business, is used to tracking down the impossible, so I have a sneaking suspicion that if I tell her, she’ll have a lineup waiting outside the door in an hour.

So, instead, I just give one of my careless shrugs and grin. “Flexibility. Gymnasts are good. Also, professional cheerleaders, athletes…”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re incorrigible.”

Lucky for me, a rescue crew arrives in the form of our other business partners. “Do I need to get you an agent?” Austin teases, strolling in. The guy is built like a ball player, because for years, he was one. “Since you’re now on-air talent?”

“Maybe I will.” I grab another bagel as we head to a corner booth to join Flynn, arriving in his trademark flannel shirt and scuffed workboots, still dusty from a job site.

“You should have thrown on a Mavericks ballcap,” Flynn says with a smirk. “The free publicity would have been awesome.”

“Not that we need it,” Charlie collapses in his seat with his official business binder. “The new bar launch was a big deal, and business here is stronger than ever.”

“Hit it, boss,” I say, glad of the change of subject.

As operating manager, Charlie takes us through the latest financials, while I’m content to sit back and follow along. I’m not so much a silent partner as an extremely relaxed partner. I may have fronted most of the money for this place from my trust fund, but I know better than to stick my nose in when these guys have everything under control.