Chapter 9 Linc
LINC
Ipulled up my car beside the bright-pink SUV in the driveway of my father’s house. He would have been horrified at the sight of it—and the woman who slipped from behind the wheel, her high-top sneakers hitting the pavement with a loud thump.
Abby approached my car, her blond hair, complete with a wide pink stripe to match her sneakers, piled on top of her head in a messy cluster of curls.
The color caught the sun, glowing bright and gold.
It wasn’t the same burnished glow of Sunny’s but rather like a beacon of sunshine.
Abby wore a tight-fitting dress in pink and white, the material stretched over her breasts, highlighting “the girls,” as she called them.
Most of her face was covered by the huge sunglasses she wore, but her smile was wide, although I noticed the tension in her shoulders.
“Hey, boss man. Nice place.” She snorted. “You meant it when you said ostentatious.”
I bent and brushed a kiss to her cheek, taking the bag she grabbed from her back seat and throwing it onto the passenger seat of my car. Then I ran a hand through my hair.
“I hate this place.”
She laid a hand on my arm. “I know.”
Taking the opportunity, I hooked my finger over the top of the sunglasses and tugged them down her nose. She immediately slapped my hand away.
“Hey, stop that.”
I didn’t try again. I saw what I needed to see. I wasn’t the only one having a bad day. The dark circles under her eyes told me all I needed to know. I had to find out what had happened, but I had to wait for the right moment. Otherwise, she would shut me down faster than the speed of light.
I slid an arm around her shoulders. “Come on in. Ned will be here soon. You can keep me company, and we can go through my schedule.”
“I am dying to find out why you’re staying on in Mission Cove,” she admitted, grabbing her huge purse from the back seat. I swore she kept half the contents of her apartment in it. “You said you’d rather spend eternity in hell than come back here.”
I glanced at her over my shoulder as I slid the key into the front door lock. “I think we both have stories to tell.” I arched my eyebrow. “You know the code, Abigail. Tit for tat.”
She huffed out a breath but didn’t argue. From the moment I met her, that had been our code. If I shared, so did she—and vice versa. We had no secrets between us. Our unseen scars were real and open—often bleeding, and the cause of them spoken out loud in the hopes that they would cease to hurt us.
Sometimes, it worked. Other times, the scars ran too deep and would forever fester and wear at us. But still, we pushed on, baring our souls and accepting each other for the people we were—the people we had to become to break free from our pasts.
She nodded, the smile gone from her face. Inside, she followed me to the kitchen and accepted the bottle of water I handed her. To provide her a chance to collect her thoughts, I gave her a tour of the house, then we headed to my father’s den.
She looked around the room. “Has the place changed much since you lived here?”
“Nope. Nothing—except a few things I removed to keep, but nothing anyone would notice. They were already packed in boxes or shoved in drawers.”
She shivered. “It’s cold. What an austere place to live.”
I swallowed a long drink of water. “It was nicer when my mom was alive. When she died, my father removed any trace of her. It became a shrine to himself. To his power. This—” I tapped the desk “—was his throne. He commanded his world from it.” I snorted. “Mine as well.”
“He was a real bastard.”
“I know.”
“But he’s gone. And you’re slowly erasing him and his deeds. Spending his fortune on everything he hated. That must feel good.”
“It does.”
“So why the frown? What’s wrong?”
I rubbed my eyes. “Sunny,” I said simply. “She’s here.”
Her eyes widened. “What? Here in Mission Cove?”
“Yes, she’s been here for a while.”
She sat down in the chair across from the desk. “Tell me.”
I told her everything. How it felt returning to Mission Cove. Walking into Sunny’s bakery and the shock of seeing her. Our altercation here in the den. When I got to the part about Sunny slapping me and my response, Abby gasped quietly.
“Oh, Linc. How awful.”
I shook my head. “No, it was what we needed to break the ice. She had been holding in her anger all this time, so it’s hardly a surprise.”
“You’ve been angry too.” She pointed out. “Hurt as well.”
“Thanks to my father, we both have.” I huffed out a long breath. “I hope we can move past it.”
“You still love her.” It was a statement not a question.
I met her light-brown eyes. They had always reminded me of the color of caramels. Rich and, despite what she had suffered in her life, warm and open.
“I will always love her.”
She relaxed against the back of the chair. “That explains a lot.”
I tilted my head. “Oh?”
“It’s been her all this time. I’ve watched you for years, Linc. The beautiful women who came and went—who threw themselves at you. Nothing. You always looked through them—not at them. There was never a spark. Certainly not the passion I see in your eyes when you talk about Sunny.”
“It’s always been her.”
“Can this happen?” she asked. “Can you get past everything you’ve been through? That’s a lot of water under the bridge, Linc. You’re two different people now.”
I shrugged. “Am I? Somewhere inside me is still the boy who loved Sunny. Who still loves Sunny. As soon as I saw her, something inside me settled. I felt complete again. I felt like Linc. Not the businessman, not the son bent on retribution. Just Linc.”
“Is that enough?”
I thought about her question before I replied. Abby was always a straight shooter and never held back with me. “It’s a start. All I know is when I kissed her, I felt whole again. I spent the day watching her, needing to be nearby. I can’t explain it—it simply feels as if I belonged close to her.”
She crossed one leg over the other, swinging her foot, the glitter on her shoelaces catching the light as it pumped.
“I won’t even address the kissing or you hanging out in her shop all day.
But be careful, Linc. Sometimes the past clouds our judgment.
Stirs up emotions that were dormant, making them powerful and alive.
Don’t confuse old emotions that suddenly have come to life with what may shape your future.
” She paused, her voice becoming soft. “I don’t want to see you get hurt.
And I’m worried the Sunny of today could hurt you even more than the memories you carry of Sunny inside your head. ”
“I didn’t expect this,” I admitted. “But I can’t tell you how right it feels, Abby. I’m not blind—I know we have years to talk about, lots of distance and things to discuss and work through, but I want to try.”
“I assumed so from the bag you had me bring you. You’re staying here?”
“At the hotel.” I looked around. “Not in this house. I will never stay in this house again.”
“Too many ghosts,” she agreed. “They’re all around you.”
“Yes.” I studied her, not hiding the fact that I was doing so.
When she had removed her sunglasses earlier, I had seen the fatigue on her face.
Recognized the lines of pain around her eyes.
That was always her tell. Regardless of the expression on her face, the neutral tone of her voice, her inner torment was always evident in her eyes.
The caramel became muddy and dull. The small V between her eyes was more pronounced.
Tiny lines became etched into her skin. Anyone who really knew Abby recognized it.
I was one of the few people who knew her.
I was about to ask her what was going on when the sound of a car approaching stopped me. It would have to wait until he left. “Ned is here.”
She reached into her bag and pulled out her tablet. “Okay, boss, let’s get some work done.”
I stood, brushing off my pants. “This conversation isn’t over, Abby.”
She smiled sadly. “I’m aware.”
Isigned the last of the documents Ned gave me. “So, everything is arranged now?”
“Mostly. We’ve finally locked down most of the permits.
I’m waiting for the last one from the city, and we should be good to go.
” He sat back, regarding me. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’m going to say it anyway, Linc.
I’m bringing in appraisers to go through the house.
You might not care about the value, but as your lawyer, I insist on having valuations.
Your accountant can write off the things you give away as donations. It makes the most sense.”
I scrubbed my hand over my face. “How much longer does it delay things?”
“A week. I’ll have them here to do the work, we can donate some things, then you can throw open the doors and give away the rest. The house is scheduled to be razed in about a month.”
“Why so long?”
He smirked. “You don’t just walk into a place and implode it.
It has to be planned and wired. They’ll be here tomorrow to make their assessment.
I prebooked the date, and as long as things go all right, they’ll stick to it.
If adjustments have to be made, so will the date.
” He eyed me knowingly. “Step back, Linc. Think about it rationally—with your head, not your heart.”
I stared out the window. Part of me wanted to watch this house implode on itself.
The roof and walls collapsing like the house of cards my father had built around his life.
I wanted to walk among the rubble, nothing left but dust and bricks that would be hauled away, until all that remained was empty ground.
Another part of me didn’t want to wait—instead, empty out the house tomorrow and let bulldozers pull it down.
But Ned was right, and I had to handle this properly. Make sure it was done correctly—all of it. The contents and the building itself.
I nodded in agreement. “Make it happen.”
Abby spoke up. “I can be here while the appraisers are in the house.”
“That would be great.”