Chapter Six
Jordan
I arrive at work early on Monday with a Starbucks grande chai tea latte for myself and a tall dark roast with milk for Linc. I’m not surprised when he strides in a few minutes after me. He, too, always shows up before nine.
“Good morning,” he says, pausing by my desk outside his office.
I smile. “Good morning to you. Coffee’s on your desk.”
“Thanks. How was the rest of your weekend?”
I shrug. “Fine. Busy with the usual. Errands, straightening up, laundry. Claire came over Saturday night,” I say of my sister. “We ordered pizza and watched a movie.”
“How is your sister?”
Claire didn’t spend as much time at Linc’s house when our mom was working. Being older, she had a job after school.
“She’s good.” I look back at my computer screen.
“So I take it you were too busy to return my calls or texts?” He props a hip on the corner of my desk.
His arousing masculine scent, woodsy cologne mixed with a hint of spice, reminds me of why I avoided him all weekend. “I answered you. I asked if you needed to talk about work and you said no.” So I dodged getting back in touch.
He braces a hand on the papers strewn across my desk and leans close. “What’s going on, Jordan?”
I pull my bottom lip between my teeth and release it. Big mistake. His gaze tracks the movement, his eyes darkening.
“I’m just making sure we have our boundaries set,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow. “You’re my best friend. My person. We have no boundaries.”
Before I can answer, he rises and adjusts his suit jacket. “Any messages?” he asks, back in boss mode after shaking me to my core.
“Not yet but it’s early.”
He nods. “Well, you know where to find me.” He starts for his office and turns back around. “Want to get lunch?”
“I’m going to ask Suzanne to go out to eat. See what else she can tell me.” I pointedly don’t discuss specifics in the office.
Approval lights his eyes. “Good. And if she isn’t free, we’re going to Ocean Prime. Make a reservation and use my name. And if not today, make one for tomorrow.”
My eyes open wide. Ocean Prime is not a typical business-lunch restaurant. It’s a make-an-impression one.
At some point in the last couple of days, Linc has changed our MO, and he hasn’t filled me in on why. He’s attempting to push beyond the friend zone we’ve been in for years, after he said sex between us can’t happen again.
As much as I wish things were different, nothing has changed, at least in my mind. I still don’t want sex screwing up our relationship … pun intended. And I definitely know I don’t belong in his world.
Aurora’s reaction to the Kingston Estate solidified my feelings, because like Linc’s new sister, I can relate to not fitting in.
Besides, I still carry the pain caused by Collin hiding his relationship with me from his family, his horrified reaction when he got me pregnant, and the money he offered me to take care of the problem.
I cover my stomach with my hand at the memories, certain I’m doing the right thing by putting up a wall. I couldn’t handle it if I lost Linc. For any reason.
I settle in to work and have no idea how much time has passed when a familiar voice interrupts me.
“Hi. Got a minute?”
I glance up at Chloe Kingston and smile. “For you? Of course.” I push aside the keyboard on the desk as Chloe settles into a chair across from me.
With blonde hair and pale skin, in stark contrast to my darker coloring, Chloe is a beautiful woman with features similar to her mother’s, and blue eyes with a darker rim, the same color as Linc’s.
“I like your dress,” I say, admiring the printed dress with a ruffle above the knee.
Chloe smiles. “Thanks!”
“How’s the wedding planning going?”
Her eyes light up. “Good! I’ve been so busy with everything. Who sits at what table, packing up my apartment because we’re moving in together right after the wedding. I sublet my place, so I’ll need to be out and put things somewhere before the big day.”
“Is Owen excited, too?” I ask of Chloe’s fiancé, Owen Pritchard.
Chloe’s eyes dim a bit. “It’s been hard finding time to see each other lately. He’s been working late, so going away for the honeymoon won’t hurt him.”
I know the man is a tax attorney and her brothers dislike a lot about him, from his bland personality to the lack of interest in things that are important to Chloe. Her comment merely cements her siblings’ feelings, but I remain silent, as it’s none of my business.
“I’m sure it’ll all settle down once you’re married and live together,” I say instead.
Chloe nods. “I know it will. So I actually came to talk to you for a reason. I was thinking of throwing Aurora a baby shower. Do you think she’d like that?”
“I think she’d love it! And anything I can do to help, let me know.”
“I will. Let me see if I can book the country club and find a good date that works for everyone,” Chloe says, and I do my best not to cringe at the thought of going to their club. My times there as an adult hasn’t been comfortable.
“Okay, well, I’ll get back to you.” Chloe pushes herself up from her seat.
“Sounds good.”
Chloe heads back to her workspace in the office, and I turn back to my computer.
A message from Suzanne agreeing to lunch is in my box and I smile.
A reprieve from Linc’s sudden intense interest in me, a welcome one.
Tomorrow I’ll have to deal with him taking me to an expensive restaurant for no good reason. But not today.
* * *
Linc
I spend the morning in a meeting with Brian and, through Zoom, our accountants.
They’ve found discrepancies in the business accounts.
And now that I know Wallace was helping my father funnel money somewhere to fund deals nobody was aware of, things begin to make sense.
Which doesn’t mean they know where the missing money went.
I hire forensic accountants to dig deep, and if Wallace doesn’t show his face soon, I’ll hire a private investigator to find him, as well.
My blood pressure must be sky-high because inside I feel ready to explode in anger and frustration.
Wallace obviously took advantage of my father’s condition.
To what end, I have no idea, but I’m sure the man has filled his pockets with company money, probably taking a cut of whatever Kenneth had going on.
Lunchtime arrives, and Jordan orders me food while she goes out to pump Suzanne for information. I take note of the relieved expression on her face when she tells me we won’t be going out for lunch today.
Fine with me. There’s always tomorrow.
I intend to use the free time to my advantage. After finishing my sandwich, I rise and slip my suit jacket on. It’s time to confront Beck. It’s been a while since we had a civil conversation of any kind, and I sure as hell don’t expect one now.
Over the years, we’ve run into each other at charity events and industry functions, but Beck merely glares. As far as I’m concerned, I’ve already done my mea culpa and punished myself plenty. I might feel bad but I refuse to grovel. My actions back then weren’t intentional.
I’ve never believed the fact that Beck and I ended up in the same business and competing against each other for building and land deals was part of some master plan of revenge.
Beck always wanted to make money and use real estate to accomplish his goal.
But whether this particular deal with my father is simply good business or an opportunity to get back at me, I don’t know.
I arrive at Beck’s office in Lower Manhattan, my mood foul not just from the issue at hand but the ridiculous amount of traffic Max hit while driving downtown. I haven’t called or made an appointment on purpose, not wanting to give my nemesis time to prepare.
Instructing Max to wait, I walk into the entrance, impressed despite myself.
Beck owns the entire building, which has a 1930s hotel-like feel, with polished concrete floors, black-steel-framed windows, and brushed brass fixtures.
It’s glamorous and completely unlike the Kingston Enterprises décor.
My offices and the rental models Chloe designs are more traditional than this admittedly cooler look.
Chloe has often asked me to allow her to mix things up, but I prefer to play it safe when it comes to most things. Safe sells.
A doorman directs me to the top floor, where Beck Realty’s offices are located. The rest of the building, he rents to other businesses.
Stepping off the elevator, I face a grand marble desk with a pretty woman sitting behind it.
“Can I help you?” she asks.
“I’m here to see Mr. Daniels.”
The woman meets my gaze. “Do you have an appointment, Mr.…?”
“Kingston. Linc Kingston, and no, I don’t, but he’ll see me.” I’m certain.
Apparently the brunette behind the desk doesn’t agree, her expression skeptical as she picks up the phone and dials.
“A Mr. Linc Kingston is here to see Mr. Daniels,” she says, pursing her red lips.
She waits, tapping her nails on the desk.
“What? He will?” she asks, obviously surprised. “Thank you.”
Glancing up, she says, “Mr. Daniels’s secretary will be out in a moment to take you to his office.” With that pronouncement, she looks me over, now interested in who would get past her to see the king without an appointment.
I don’t crack a smile back. I’m not in the mood.
Delicate footsteps sound, and I look up in time to see another young woman, this one with auburn hair, walking down a hall and stopping at the desk. “Mr. Kingston?”
“Yes.”
“Right this way, please.” She gestures for me to follow her, and I do, winding my way past other offices and windows with a fabulous view of Manhattan before stopping behind a closed door with Beck’s name on it.
“You can go in,” she says before taking her seat behind her desk.
I draw a deep breath and walk in without knocking first and shut the door behind me. I don’t want an audience for this conversation.