The Curves of Wall St

The first time I met Ronan Kennedy face-to-face, it was while he was screaming down a fresh-faced analyst for being less than perfect at his job. And what's worse, he then tried to fire me for being in the way when said analyst turned away and fled—smashing my lucky cactus and ruining my knitting in the process, mind you. Needless to say, I wasn't impressed. But I also wasn't ready for the unemployment queue.

The first time I spoke to Peter Greer, it was at my best friend's engagement party. He was introduced to me as her brother then, but I knew of him even before that. For the many years I'd worked in the admin department at Pierce Goodman, Peter Greer was one of the untouchables. A person so high up the chain of command that a lowly admin assistant like me had no reason to speak to him directly. Of course, that changed when I became friends with his sister. We were acquainted. 

There's a certain percentage of women who've never experienced the big O. I happen to be one of them. When I confide that in my two best friends, they decide I can't go a moment longer without experiencing it. Next thing I know, they've signed me up for a dating app that's sure to get me all my jollies and then some. I'm not so sure. With a bar to run, a venture-capitalist partner telling me how to run it, and a past that makes my present difficult day to day, adding any kind of relationship—temporary or not—to that is a complication I just don't need.