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

Chapter 8

I’ve been texting Nova for the last three days, but I’ve had no response.

Has she ghosted me?

She could’ve told me to back off. But I didn’t get that feeling from her. She seemed interested in our conversation. To have her disappear and be unresponsive leaves me a little rattled. If she wasn’t anyone of importance, I would’ve forgotten about her and focused on my work. Work is usually the one consuming me, not a woman.

Nova’s interesting, and there’s a lightness in my chest when we talk. We have so many common interests.

But since she hasn’t responded, I haven’t been able to concentrate on a single project. Even hearing Blue Morgan on the damn radio this morning on my drive into work reminds me of her and the time we texted while we discussed our love of Million Dollar Baby.

“When will the final pricing contract be ready?” I ask, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“We’re almost done,” he replies easily. I can imagine him reclining back in his chair all casual.

“What’s almost done?” I rebut, annoyed.

“How about you come in tomorrow for a meeting to go over it. I’m sure it will be done.” He tries to sound convincing, but I’m not.

“What time tomorrow?” I ask as I open the calendar on my laptop. Casting my eyes over the day.

I could do it at 7a.m., but it sounds like they’ll need the day to organize the paperwork.

“How about 5?”

“P.M.?”

I could move the meeting with the local hospital. It just means I’ll need to eat when I get home.

“Yeah. I’ll have dr—water or coffee.”

I’m grateful he remembered I prefer not to drink alcohol during work meetings.

“Water.”

“Of course.”

“I’ll be in your office at 5p.m. sharp, don’t be late, Mr. Spencer.” Turning in my chair, I’m ready to hang up after moving meetings for him.

“I won’t,” he says.

I want to sign the contract to buy his micro instruments. I need the details of the instrument and the prices on paper. It will take some time for them to be manufactured and then delivered to each hospital. So I want to secure this contract and get the production started asap.

I hang up not knowing and hit the button to call my PA Kirstie.

“Mr. Lincoln?” she answers politely.

“Can you come here for a second?” I ask down the line.

“Of course.”

I hang up, and a second later, she knocks and enters. Her shoes are soft along the carpet. She wears her usual black suit and black hair pinned back. I gesture for her to take a seat in front of me as we discuss tomorrow’s full day.

“Hi. How can I help?” she says, her brown eyes meet mine as she takes a seat and pushes her glasses up her nose.

“We need to move the final meeting. I have a new one scheduled for Spencer Health.”

“Do you need me to get anything prepared?”

I know the papers she had organized for me already sit inside my briefcase, waiting for him to be ready.

“No. What you prepared last time will work. Just check if there’s a date on it and if there is, can you amend that and print it out?”

“Sure. I’ll get that one rescheduled. What time are you meeting Mr. Spencer, so I can add that to your calendar and let the driver know.”

“I’m meeting him at 5. And thanks, Kirstie, that will be great.”

“Do you want me to organize dinner?”

A small smile turns up at the corner of my lip. “I don’t intend to stay that long. And I’m sure my housekeeper will have a spare meal in my fridge at home.”

“Is there anything else?”

I shake my head and sit back in my chair, ready to get back to my emails. I shouldn’t have many as I keep updated on them all throughout the day.

“No. Thanks. That’s all.”

She dips her chin and stands. Silently, she leaves the room and shuts the door behind her. I check the time because I need to leave in time to visit Grams before she goes to bed. She saw the doctor today and I want to hear all about it.

I finish the last of my work before I switch off my computer and drive to the house.

Three hours later, I arrive at the three-story limestone house with a small porch. But it’s her back garden that’s spectacular. The flowers, grass, and trees are what I love most about her place.

I knock on the door, expecting it to be my mom opening the door, but I’m surprised to see it’s Grams.

“Where’s Mom?” I ask, my tone louder and clearly unhappy.

She widens her eyes and then rolls them before grabbing my arm and dragging me in.

“I’m not dying yet. Get in here and give me a kiss. Your mother went to the grocery store to grab me some things I need.”

I let out a deep exhale. Relieved she wasn’t here alone. What if she was by herself and something happened?

Heaviness sits in my gut.

Moving toward her, I lean in and kiss her check, noticing her skin is thin like tissue paper and paler than usual. I note how fragile she is.

She closes the door and links her arm through mine. We walk through the house, and I guide her to her armchair.

“It’s so cold in here. Did you want a blanket or the heater on?” I ask after she settles herself into the brown chair.

“No. Come sit down, Remy. Tell me about your day,” she says, patting the sofa beside her.

“Mine is the same. I want to know how it went at the doctor’s appointment.” I ease down onto the sofa. Sitting back but tilting so I face her.

“That’s why you’re here early,” she accuses with a humorous expression.

“I wasn’t able to concentrate on work…” I trail off.

Her face pinches. “Why?”

“A girl?”

“You’re avoiding my question,” I say, dodging her soon-to-be interrogation.

“So are you.” She quirks a brow.

I smile softly at Grams. The witty comebacks are always on point. And just when I think I can forget all about Miss Lee, I know with Grams I can’t not be honest.

“There’s no girl.” My voice lacks conviction. I bring my leg up onto the opposite thigh and tap my fingers on my shin.

She hums. “You’re still holding something back. Tell me.”

I stare at her, hoping she drops it, but the challenge on her face lets me know she’s not dropping the topic.

“How did you know?” I ask.

“Remy, I’ve known you for your whole life. You have tell-tale signs when you are bothered by something.”

I sigh. She’s right. I may think I’m unreadable but not to people who’ve known me my entire life. Which gets me thinking.

“Not a word to Mother about this.”

She pretends to zip her mouth with her hands, causing a deep chuckle to leave my chest. “My lips are sealed.”

“There’s not much to say other than I had messaged a number who I thought was the CEO of a medical instrument company. He somehow gave me the wrong number.”

“Hmm,” she says, leaning to one side of the armchair, her hand sitting under her chin. Already invested in my story.

“It ended up being one of his new accountants. Who happens to be funny, and we were talking but—”

Her face screws up. “I hate the word but.”

So do I…

I sigh as I seize the opportunity to get her advice. She’s never steered me wrong. “I haven’t heard from her since Thursday night.”

“And she seemed normal?”

I shrug, remembering all our conversations. “Yeah.”

“Have you tried to call or text?”

“Both. But it goes straight to her voicemail. For some reason, I can’t stop myself wondering what happened.”

I scrub my face, still trying to wrap my head around it all.

Her hand slips from under her chin as she sits up. “I think you’ve caught some feelings.”

“But we’ve only chatted a couple of times,” I argue, disbelieving I have any feelings for a woman. I’m married to my job.

“Great relationships always start from a friendship. You need to have solid groundwork before you date; otherwise, it’s just chemistry. And this sounds like you have more than just attraction.”

“I thought our brief conversations were good. Easy and fun. I’m just confused.”

“Well, how about you ask her boss if everything’s okay?”

I frown. “I can’t do that.”

“Why?”

“He’ll think more of it, and I don’t like him. And frankly, I don’t want him anywhere near my personal business.”

“Mm. Would you see her at work?”

Would I?

“I don’t think so. I deal with her boss,” I reply. Wishing I was dealing with her and not him. “But I say things to her that I’ve never been able to say to anyone else.”

“Such a shame. This one seems special,” she whispers, and pinches my cheek like she always does.

Nova is something…I just don’t know what.