Chapter 20
20
LINCOLN
“ I don’t care if he wants those terms in the contract. Absolutely not! Negotiations are over. If he pushes this, tell him to tread carefully with me,” I bark at Roy, then slam the phone down.
I start to massage my temples, feeling a headache coming on. This is why I generally don’t like to do acquisitions. There’s always an ego on the other end who tries to squeeze more than they are entitled to out of the contract.
The familiar sound of heels approaching causes a flood of warmth in the pit of my stomach. I look up, and Kylie is standing over my desk with a glass of water and two pills.
“What’s that for?” I ask.
I open my hand, and she places the pills in them, then hands me the glass.
“I saw you rubbing your temples. You do that when you’re getting a headache.”
The gesture is unexpected. How does she know me so well? It feels like something that goes beyond what an assistant is responsible for or even in tune with.
“Thanks,” I whisper as I throw the pills back with the water.
She smiles at me, and I see it in her eyes. Something that feels oddly more than what we agreed to. She isn’t looking at me like I annoy the hell out of her. Our arrangement felt a lot safer when I knew she couldn’t stand me. Uneasiness fills my body.
“Is something wrong?” She reaches out and gently runs her fingers through my hair.
The moment she touches me, my chest burns, and it dawns on me. The feelings I have when she’s around. The way I long for her to be around when I’m alone. How I think about her all the time. Finding reasons to talk to her, like texting her the other night for absolutely no reason. The way my body lit up when she responded.
I’m falling for her.
I move my head back. “We can’t keep doing this,” I state abruptly.
She looks at me with confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“This.” I motion between the two of us. “Us. It’s a mistake.”
She hesitates, blinking with bafflement. “What?”
“You’re my assistant, Kylie.” I look away when I see the pain in her eyes. “I can’t—I can’t let this go any further.”
Strange and disquieting thoughts begin to race through my mind, making it hard for me to concentrate. She is still staring at me, looking baffled.
“I see. Um, I should get back to work.”
I watch her walk away and feel an acute sense of loss. “Kylie, wait.”
“No.” She turns around. “You’re absolutely right. I’m just your assistant.”
She walks out of my office, and my stomach churns with anxiety. I don’t know why the hell I just did that. Panic took over, and it just happened. I begin to try and figure out where the hell I went wrong.
When did I catch feelings? Were they there all along and I was too caught up in my desires to notice?
I begin to feel like I’m drowning in my thoughts. I need to get the hell out of here. I reach into my phone and text the guys.
Me: Happy hour tonight?
Sawyer: Did someone confiscate your phone? There’s no way Lincoln is the one asking for happy hour!
I roll my eyes at him. Of course he called me out on it.
When I walk into the bar, it’s buzzing with conversation. People are everywhere, putting on an act—the men pretending to be stand-up gentlemen, looking for a good conversation, and women flipping their hair, hoping it drives the men crazy.
I never noticed how annoying and fake it all was until now.
I sit at the high-top table as a waitress comes over with a sultry smile. I know that smile. She looks me up and down.
“Meeting a date?” she asks with her chest out and lips pursed.
“No. Friends,” I reply indifferently.
“I see. My shift ends at nine,” she says as she steps in closer.
I already know what she’s looking for. I’m dressed in an Armani suit with shoes that probably cost several months’ rent for her, and my watch is worth more than her car. She doesn’t see me; she just sees a man who can pay for a lifestyle she wants in Manhattan. Someone who might give her some orgasms and look good on her arm but is just a means to her desire for status and money.
“That’s nice for you. I’ll just take a glass of Macallan,” I say coldly.
Her face falls at the rejection, but I can’t bother to be concerned. I’m not normally so cold, especially to a woman as beautiful and eager as her. If this were a year ago, I would have taken her number and probably fucked her after her shift. Now, the idea of it holds zero interest to me.
A hand slaps me on the back, and Dean and Sawyer take their seats opposite me.
Dean looks closely at me. “That waitress is hot. Don’t tell me you already got to her.”
“She’s all yours,” I tell him. “And she gets off work at nine, by the way.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up. “Soo, she came on to you?”
“Who came on to who?” Colton asks as he takes a seat next to me.
The beautiful waitress appears, and Dean smiles his million-dollar smile at her. “Hello, beautiful.”
I see that she’s recovered quickly from my rejection and is now keen on giving her attention to my friend. Not that it bothers me. It just proves my point. She takes everyone else’s drink orders and walks away.
“I just told Dean the waitress is all his,” I clarify now that she’s gone.
After everyone has their drinks, Walker looks at me strangely. “You going to tell us why you called us here tonight?”
Roman nods his head in agreement. “Yeah, you never call us out for drinks unless you need us to network.”
“Can’t a guy just want a couple of drinks with his friends?” I ask defiantly.
“Sure, he can,” Sawyer says. “But you don’t do that. So, fess up.”
I weigh my options between dealing with this all night or just telling them. Ultimately, they won’t let it go without a fight because they’re nosy sons of bitches.
“It’s your assistant, isn’t it?” Colton says before I can make a decision.
My jaw clenches. I look up at him quickly, not sure how to answer.
“Holy. Shit. It is her,” Dean replies.
“I knew there was something there. I could tell from the moment I saw you two together in your office,” Roman says with his whiskey in his hand.
“That’s enough!” I slam my drink down.
The group falls silent, but their eyes remain on me.
“You ended it, didn’t you?” Walker accuses.
I look away from his knowing eyes. “There wasn’t anything to end in the first place.”
“Right, and that’s why you requested our company and downed your forty-dollar scotch in two minutes,” Roman mutters.
I stare at my empty glass. “So, what if I did end it? It was the right thing to do.”
“Lincoln, whatever you’re running from is going to catch up with you,” Walker says seriously.
My body stiffens. I spot the waitress across the room and hold up my glass to signal another. She nods her head at me. I need to get these guys off my back. They think this is much deeper than it is.
“Nah, she was just hot, and I made a mistake by letting my dick get in the way. Now I’ve done what’s right and brought it back to a strictly professional relationship.”
I can tell they don’t buy it, but just like usual, after they try to push me on anything related to my feelings, they let it go. I can tell Walker wants to say something else, but he just shakes his head and looks away from me. The disappointing gesture hurts more than I thought it would.
Dean and Sawyer bring the night back to what I was looking for—some good laughs. They tell stories about playing one-on- one basketball on the court in their building to make business decisions when they can’t agree. I think it’s a completely insane way of doing business, but that’s a tech company for you.
After I get home, I lie awake in bed, and all I can think about is Kylie’s face when I ended it. It went from such concern for my well-being to confusion then moved to hatred. I don’t want to go back to her hating me, but it’s the safest way to keep us from making a big mistake.