I shrugged. “Just an empty house most of the time. I’m glad it did the trick.”

Gesturing for me to sit, Bennett sat himself in a large wingback chair, his back to a wall of windows. “It’s been a while. How are things?”

“Fantastic.”

“So I hear.” He scratched his jaw, studying me. “I’d love for you to come over sometime now that we’re moved in. I’ve told Chloe all about you.”

“I hope that’s a slight exaggeration.” Of anyone in New York, Bennett Ryan probably had the most dirt from my wildest days.

“Well,” he conceded, “I’ve told her just enough to want to meet you.”

“I’d love to catch up, any time.” I glanced at the buildings out the window behind him, hesitating. Bennett wasn’t easy to read in these kinds of situations; it was one of the things that made him so good at what he did. “But I’ll admit that I’m here to ask a favor.”

He leaned forward, smiling. “I figured.”

I’d comfortably worked with some of the most intimidating people in the world, but Bennett Ryan never failed to make me take the time to choose my words carefully. Particularly when asking about something this . . . delicate.

“I’ve been a bit preoccupied with a woman I met the other night. I let her go before getting her number, and have been kicking myself ever since. As luck would have it, I spotted her having lunch with you and your lovely Chloe yesterday afternoon.”

He considered me for a moment. “You’re talking about Sara?”

“Sara,” I said, perhaps a bit too triumphantly.

“Oh no,” he said, immediately shaking his head. “Not a chance, Max.”

“What?” But with Bennett I couldn’t maintain an innocent expression for long. The man knew me only from my university days. Maybe not my best representation of good behavior.

“Chloe will have my balls if she finds out I let you anywhere near Sara. No way.”

I pressed a hand to my chest. “I’m wounded, mate. What if my intentions are honorable?”

Bennett laughed and stood to walk over to the window. “Sara’s . . .” He hesitated. “She’s just come out of a bad breakup. And you’re . . .” He looked at me and raised an eyebrow. “You’re not her type.”

“Come on, Ben. I’m not a nineteen-year-old wanker anymore.”

He threw me an amused smirk. “Okay, but you’re talking to the man who saw you successfully hook up with three women in a single evening, without any of them knowing about the others.”

I grinned. “You’ve got it all wrong. They were all very well acquainted by the end of the night.”

“Are you shitting me?”

“Just give me her number. We’ll consider it a thank-you for the loan of my gorgeous villa.”

“You are such an ass**le.”

“I believe I’ve heard that before,” I said, standing. “Sara and I, we had . . . an interesting conversation.”

“A conversation. Sara had a conversation with you. I’m skeptical.”

“A rather enjoyable one, yes. She’s intriguing, that little one. Unfortunately, we were interrupted before I could get her name.”

“I see.”

“What luck I had, running into you lot and all.” I raised my eyebrows expectantly.

“Lucky, yes . . .” Smiling, Bennett took his seat again, looking up at me. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to find your luck somewhere else. I’m quite fond of my testicles; I’d like to keep them. I’m not going to smooth the way for you here.”

“You always were a prick.”

“So I’ve heard. Lunch Thursday?”

“You bet.”

I left Bennett’s office intent on having a look around the company’s new quarters. They’d taken over three floors of the building and I’d heard they’d already had quite a bit of work done. The spacious atrium was breathtaking, but the office areas were just as lush, with wide hallways, travertine floors, and plenty of natural light coming through windows, glass block walls, and skylights. Each office seemed to have a small sitting area—nothing to match Bennett’s, but perfect for sit-downs that didn’t call for the formality of a conference room.

That said, the conference room was breathtaking: a wall of windows looking out on midtown Manhattan, a wide polished walnut table that seated at least thirty, and state-of-the-art technology for presentations.