Billion Dollar Mistake: An opposites attract billionaire romance: (The Lincolns Book 1)

Chapter 6

I’m typing away, trying to organize the agenda of an upcoming meeting I have scheduled with my new hospital in Los Angeles. I don’t have time for this right now, but I’m the only one who can do it right.

My phone buzzes on my desk, but I finish the email before checking it.

I ease back in my chair as the name Nova sits on my screen. I swivel around in my office chair away from my computer, knowing I won’t be sending just one text.

Texting with her makes me feel young again. I don’t have friends who share the same interests, but with Nova, the racing heart and warm feeling I get when we text makes me feel like a giddy teenager.

Nova:Heard your family is hosting a charity gala. What should I wear? lol.

My lips curve up.

Jeremy: How did you find out?

Nova:Google notifications.

Now my mouth parts into a full stupid grin. Putting notifications on just to hear about me. I wish I was more exciting, but currently, my life mainly involves working and playing poker with my brothers and friends.

However, I was not always like this. Growing up, I maintained a better work-life balance.

I studied hard––when necessary––but I also actively participated in social activities like attending college parties, dating girls, and going on many family holidays. I miss that fun and carefree part of my life.

I tilt forward, my arms leaning on the newspaper I’ve been reading between meetings and work.

Jeremy: Are you serious?

Nova:Didn’t know you were James Bond ;)

I swipe the sides of my lips and shake my head. She kills me.

Jeremy:I’m not going, but I think it’s important to give back.

Nova:Not just a pretty face, are you, Remy?

My heart thumps whenever she calls me Remy. It feels personal, considering my parents call me Jeremy. They”ve never used a nickname. They think a nickname isn’t prestigious enough. In fact, they’ve never used one for any of my brothers either. But her calling me Remy is special because there’s only one other person who does, and she has an important place in my heart. My grams.

Jeremy:Are you calling me pretty? Didn’t we talk about names?

Nova:Okay. How about Doctor Lincoln...is that better?

My dick hardens at the thought of how that would sound leaving her mouth. Doctor Lincoln.

Jeremy:Much.

Nova:Why aren’t you going?

I attend several charity gala’s every year, which may surprise some, but I genuinely enjoy them. It’s not the type of event I loathe, like a party; rather, it’s an opportunity to support a cause, celebrate achievements, raise awareness and leave feeling incredibly inspired.

Jeremy: I have work in Boston.

Nova:I was hoping to read about the non-playboy…playboy.

Jeremy: Sorry to disappoint.

Nova: Yeah, I am a little disappointed. Plus, I was hoping to get an invite.

I sit up straighter as my desk phone rings. I pick it up and Kirstie is letting me know my brother Evan is here. I tell her to let him in. Kirstie has been with me for the last five years. She’s in her forties and keeps me organized. I’d be lost without her.

I hang up and type back quickly.

Jeremy: Maybe next year?

Nova: Will we still be talking next year?

I turn my head away and rub the back of my neck in thought before I type back.

Jeremy:Sure. We’re friends.

My office door opens as I put my phone away. My older brother appears wearing his usual serious face. I’d scowl, but he scares me.

“You work too much.”

My body tenses. I’m used to hearing that. Especially from women. They sneer or roll their eyes at me every time I grab my phone.

Maybe it’s my fault. I never actually had my heart in the same place they did.

“You work more than me, dickhead,” I reply defensively. He closes the door behind him.

“Touché.”

They all try to rile me up. But being one of four brothers, it’s bound to happen.

“Are you coming to dinner on Sunday?” he asks, making himself a drink.

“I don’t know. I’m in the middle of a big deal.” I exhale.

He strides over from the drink trolley to the large windows overlooking New York City. “That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

He cradles a crystal glass with amber liquid and ice. My mouth suddenly dries. I stand and stroll to the cart, pouring my own. “It is, if the guy wasn’t a clown.”

Evan turns around and leans his hip against the window frame. “What do you mean?”

I suck in a breath, recalling the meeting––or lack thereof, I should say.

“This guy is just––” I fill my glass and cradle it back to my office chair, tapping the glass with my fingernail. “An unprofessional amateur. He doesn’t take other people”s time seriously.”

A smirk forms on the corner of his lips. “Can only imagine how much that would piss you off.”

My eyes narrow at my brother. “You have no idea,” I mumble.

Looking around my office, I take in how I went from becoming a doctor to a CEO. I was unable to practice medicine and own a chain of hospitals at the same time, so I decided to step away from my chosen career to follow a new passion.

I’ve worked hard to get here. My brother is no different as the owner of the family’s newspaper, Lincoln Media. He is sharp and successful in the business world, which is why we have these business conversations. And missing occasional family events is understood. Our mother, on the other hand, takes more sweetening.

“Is it worth it? Can’t you find someone else?”

I shake my head. “I fucking wish.” I swirl my glass of liquid, the ice hitting the sides.

“He’s the only one who designed and manufactures these speculums. If I had another option, I would’ve taken it by now,” I admit.

“I’m sure I can put in a good word for you. You know it’s our mother, not Dad or Iris.”

Hearing Grams’ name makes me think of Nova. The little spark of fun in her even though she’s losing her dad hits me differently. We share something in common and she doesn’t even know it.

It’s not something I’ve told people about because saying it out loud means it’s real. And I’m not ready to accept it. I like to control things and Grams’ breast cancer is out of my control. How is she so brave about something so crippling?

“How’s Grams today?” I ask, swirling the ice cube in my glass.

“Same feisty woman. You wouldn’t know anything’s wrong with her.”

I snort, picturing her smile and the wrinkle in between her brows as she gets a read on you. “I can imagine her giving you shit for asking.”

“Yep,” he mutters before taking a drink.

“I’ll call her before poker. Are you coming tonight?” I ask. Usually, I play poker with my brothers and friends on Thursday nights.

“Not this time, I’ve got a meeting with one of my employees,” he gruffs.

Anytime he uses that tone it’s when he’s angry. He’s not a big talker. Growing up, he was picked on at school for being quiet. He prefers small groups, and even then, he communicates sparingly. However, I’m used to him that way, and, in fact, I appreciate the serenity he brings.

His obvious hatred of this guy has my interest piqued.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s odd. I can”t put my finger on it, but when I figure it out, I’ll let you know.”

“Sounds fair,” I reply smartly.

A wrinkle forms between his brows. “I’m telling you there’s something off about him.”

I put my hands up in the air like I’m surrendering. “I didn’t say there wasn’t.”

“But you’ve got that skeptical look on your face.”

Confused, I let my expression fall. “What look?”

“It’s a face you pull when you don’t believe someone.”

I tilt my glass back and finish it. Placing it on the table with a thud, I say, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

My phone chimes with a new email, distracting me from our conversation. It’s the Director of Education from my hospital in Chicago. I can’t ignore this.

“I’ve got to read this email, it”s urgent.”

“Of course,” he responds, standing. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

I don’t wait for him to even leave my office before I spin around to my computer and read the details of the email. I decide to make a call to my friend from Chicago, Doctor Damien Gray, to get his thoughts on it. I’m going to have to get my assistant to schedule a visit.

I spend longer on the phone catching up with Damien and his family than I usually do with normal clients.

After I hang up, I get Kirstie to organize the trip.

I check my watch and I have half an hour before I need to leave my office to get to my friend Richard”s house.

But, of course, work holds me up and I end up running forty-five minutes late for poker.

When I arrive, it’s only a small group of five of us tonight. My younger brothers, Harvey and Oliver. Our friend Lukas, Richard, and me. We sit in the den of Richard”s house. It’s dimly lit, with a soft glow of overhead lights casting a warm hue on the green felt of the poker table. The air is thick with a mixture of tension and excitement. The only sounds are from servers or the occasional chips shuffling.

We drink, smoke and eat. I don’t smoke, but I will drink alcohol. I experimented as a teenager, but studying medicine showed me the harmful effects smoking can have on a person, so I quit immediately.

The cards are drawn, and I scoop them up and lean back in my chair. My game face is on.

Over my cards, I eye each of the guys. Poker night always starts out serious but after we settle into a few games we spend most of the time talking shit and drinking.

On occasion, all my brothers join, but tonight, two out of the three came. I enjoy spending time with my brothers. I’m close with Evan and Harvey. Oliver is a hard one to spend time with, but when we do, it’s always light-hearted. He’s the joker out of all of us. He’ll have you laughing even on your shittiest day.

We haven’t all been together playing poker in a couple of months. Someone’s schedule is always not lining up with the rest, but at Grams’, we all make it. None of us would ever miss a dinner with her.

I choose not to miss poker nights because it’s the only activity I engage in outside of work. That’s why I always look forward to Thursdays; it’s a welcomed break from the monotony.

It’s my turn, so I’m looking at my cards and deciding my options when my phone vibrates in my pocket. Tossing a card down, I pull out my phone and see her name across the screen. My lip twitches, but I tuck my phone away, planning to respond after the game, and return my focus to the game. It’s Harvey’s turn, and he’s currently staring at his cards, contemplating his move. Knowing she’s messaged eats away at me. I’m desperate to know what’s in her text, so I give myself another minute before I can’t wait any longer.

After my turn, I pull my phone out and read it.

Nova: What does Remy do on a Thursday night?

Jeremy: Plays poker with his friends and brothers.

Nova:I thought you didn’t play games.

I let out a short chuckle. I’m about to type back when Lukas interrupts me.

“Who’s making you laugh?” His brow is up to his hairline.

I drop my phone into my lap and refocus on the game.

“No one,” I reply.

Because who is Nova? A friend? Colleague?

Other than beautiful, funny and charismatic, I don’t have an answer. Honesty would only cause more questions. And she’s none of anyone’s business but mine.

After another turn, the boys start discussing the Chicago Eels’ latest football game, so I take the opportunity to reply to her text.

Jeremy:I only play certain games.

Nova:Like?

Jeremy: The fun ones.

Nova: And truth or dare isn’t?

Jeremy: No.

Nova: Why?

Jeremy: You ask a lot of questions, Nova.

Nova:And you avoid a lot of them, Remy.

Jeremy: Not on purpose.

There’s been a burning question I can’t shake. I’m a straightforward guy, so before she responds, I type another message and hit send.

Jeremy: How are you so brave about your dad?

It takes her a while to respond this time, so I just set my phone face down on the table and shift my focus toward the game once again.

It vibrates. She responded. I pick it up and swipe it open.

Nova:Truthfully, I’m not. I hide it well.

Jeremy: But you don’t let it affect you.

Nova:I box as a workout and find it relieves my frustration and sadness. I’m then too tired to feel.

I know what she means… Anger surged through me when I discovered Grams had it. That day remains etched in my memory, vividly, as if it was yesterday. The doctor in me vanished, and my feelings as a grandson took over. In a fit of rage, I threw the glass of rum I was holding, called her doctor, demanding a cure. Despite attempts from my parents and brothers to calm me down, it was only when Grams visited my office that I finally gave in. She understood my fear––the gut-wrenching terror fear––that cancer equated to a death sentence. When it comes to cancer, feelings can get overwhelming and hard to understand. It’s like every emotion thrown at you and you’re hit with every single one at different times. One minute you”re happy and the next you”re gutted and scared. It’s a fucking roller coaster.

Jeremy: I am also close to losing someone I love very much and I don’t know what to do with myself.

Nova:If you ever feel like you don’t want to do this alone, you have me.

Jeremy:I do?

Nova: We’re friends, aren’t we?

Jeremy: We are.Do you have anyone who’s been there for you?

I type anyone as a way to find out if she lives with a guy. I know I shouldn’t care, but she still hasn’t answered me about who lives with her, and it’s knotting me up inside.

Nova:I am good at being alone.

Jeremy: No siblings?

Nova:No, just me.

I exhale and ease back into the chair. No mention of a boyfriend or fiancé or husband. Nothing. I know I shouldn’t be happy she’s single, but I am. I’m fucking ecstatic.