17. Chapter 16
Chapter 16
Harvey
After a long stakeholder meeting, I retreat to my office, which feels strangely cold. I can’t quite pinpoint why it feels different? It’s not that the office is shit. In fact, it’s a dream workspace for most people. Compared to Jemima’s, my office is luxurious, dark gray walls, a plush gray rug, glass-top tables, and splashes of dark purple in the artwork and cushions. Normally, it exudes a cozy, inviting atmosphere. But tonight, as I gaze out at the city lights, it doesn’t feel right. It’s not that I miss Jemima’s cluttered offices, but something is off.
The sharp ring of my desk phone interrupts my thoughts. I hesitate, considering ignoring it, but with a heavy sigh, I stride over and pick it up.
“Esme,” I answer.
“Hi, Mr. Lincoln, the tailor is here for your suit. Are you ready?” Esme asks.
“Yes,” I respond, then hang up.
The suit, a new dark green velvet outfit with black lapels, a white shirt, and a black bow tie, is perfect for Oliver’s gallery celebration. When my assistant brings in the tailor, I ask her to reschedule my monthly hairdresser appointment to Saturday. I want to look sharp.
After the tailor leaves, I wrap up the strategic review of the day, making final adjustments to my plans. A quick call to my managers ensures everything is in place before I head off home for poker night. I’m relieved it’s at my place tonight, because juggling work and Jemima’s responsibilities is exhausting. Soon, I’ll step back and only need weekly meetings with her to discuss new risks, strategies, and operational assessments.
There’s something fulfilling about witnessing Jemima’s passion for the business. Despite not starting it herself, she’s learning as she goes, her disorganized and chaotic approach adding to her charm. Though I’m tempted to guide her my way, I don’t want to take away the uniqueness she brings as she masters things like the design brief, reminding me why my father wanted me to learn this. Watching hard work turn something around and help it thrive is something special.
I get home with ten minutes to spare before the boys arrive.
My staff has prepared a selection of food. The poker room is dimly lit in the basement, with exposed brown brick, and a glass wall separating the wine cellar and bar. I pour myself a glass of wine and take a seat at the large oval poker table, which matches the purple theme of my office. As voices sound upstairs, I add some country music to fill the room, and then greet Lukas, Gabino, Richard, Jeremy, Evan, and Oliver.
Cards are shuffled, dealt, and the game begins.
Our conversation shifts to work, and Oliver brings up his upcoming party, ensuring we all remember. As if any of us could forget.
“I met Jemima properly today,” Oliver announces. “You should see how hot she looks when she’s talking about art,” he adds, causing me to tense.
My jaw is rigid at his obvious admiration, and I can’t help but feel protective. “She’s a woman, give her some respect.”
“Technically, she’s a mom,” Oliver retorts, raising an eyebrow.
“What?” Jeremy asks, leaning forward as if he’s never heard about her being a single mother. Though she isn’t my usual type, she’s different. Mature, confident, feisty, but also an incredible mother. Something I never thought I’d care about.
“Yeah, single mom to a six-year-old,” I confirm, annoyed that we are discussing her personal life.
“Are you serious about her?” Evan’s voice cuts through the chatter, silencing the room. When our older brother speaks, we listen.
There’s something in the way he cares about me that makes me be honest with him. He might actually have some genuine advice unlike my annoying brother Oliver. “I can’t be serious with someone whose business I’m rebuilding,” I say, placing a bet. “My money won’t work to lure her in.”
Plus, it doesn’t help that she’s not interested in me… The usual tricks for women don’t work with her.
“So, where's the ex?” Evan asks, and I feel the hairs on my neck stand up as I think about him and Danny. Their friendship, and the hurt they have caused Jemima.
I run a hand through my hair making it flop over my eye.
“Maybe dye your hair and she’ll find you attractive.”
“Fuck off, dickhead,” I shout to Oliver.
I’ve caught her eyes lingering on me multiple times, so there must be something she likes.
“Where’s the ex?” Evan cuts in, reminding me I haven’t answered him.
“In jail.”
“What for?” Evan probes, while the others eat chips or sip their drinks in silence.
“Drugs,” I reply, letting the word hang heavy in the air like a bad smell.
“Fuck,” Gabino murmurs.
Nodding, I continue, “She’s got a lot of debt from him. I’m helping her turn the business around, but I discovered one of her family friends was embezzling.”
“Shit,” Evan mutters.
“You call the cops?” Richard asks.
“No, I paid him off,” I explain.
“Fuck,” Evan spits, clearly disapproving my decision, but it’s already done.
“Have you told Jemima?” Oliver asks, rubbing the back of his neck.
I shake my head, determined to keep the progress Jemima and I have made. She’s finally letting her guard down, and the last thing I want is for her to shut me out again. “No, I don’t plan to. She’s happy right now; no need to upset her.”
“I would,” Jeremy chimes in.
“I don’t give a fuck what you’d do. You don’t know her like I do,” I snap without thinking.
“Jeez, calm down.” Jeremy laughs. “Just making a suggestion.”
“Everyone needs more drinks,” I say, trying to regain my composure.
Why is Jemima such a touchy subject for me?
“I can’t,” Lukas says. “Emmy hasn’t been sleeping, so I’ve been taking the night shift.”
Normally, kids disrupting someone's life would annoy me, but I find myself sticking up for Lukas.
“This is why I won’t have kids any time soon,” Oliver remarks, his back turned to the group as he pours more drinks.
“They’re not that bad,” I counter.
“Oh, look out, incoming stepfather,” Oliver teases, glancing over his shoulder with a grin.
My gaze shoots across to Oliver, and I glare at his smug face. “Shut the fuck up.”
No one is being a stepfather. Just because my views on children have changed doesn’t mean my goals have.
“What am I missing?” Jeremy asks, his gaze darting between us.
I won’t allow Oliver to get in first, so I say, “Nothing. Oliver’s making shit up again.”
“Am fucking not,” Oliver retorts.
“Calm down, you two,” Evan’s icy tone cools the room. “Fucking children.”
“If something changes between you two, you'll tell us, right?” Richard asks.
“Of course,” I say, taking the chance to change the subject. “But have you had any luck with getting the neighboring building?” I ask Richard. He’s a successful real estate developer.
“No, they still won’t sell for that price,” he replies.
I rub my forehead with my free hand, considering my options. “Offer more.”
“How much?”
“Whatever it takes to get it.”
I lean back into my chair, grateful that my dad will be handing over my trust fund in five months. Every penny will go toward getting that neighboring building.