Chapter 5 Lincoln
Lincoln
Her situation couldn’t be that bad. From Vinny’s offhand comments, I knew her parents had left her a house.
Even without financial aid for college, she should have a decent nest egg for emergencies.
I didn’t do well with unknowns, so there was a pull to uncover and solve.
She wasn’t my problem, though. It’d been her choice to let me slip through her fingers rather than help each other.
My fingertips drummed against my thigh as I shoved the rejection away and embraced the simmering resentment taking over my chest. Besides, she’d probably just mismanaged whatever had been left.
“Real treat your parents got, right?”
Vinny blinked at me, so I chuckled, adding, “Having to take her in.”
Vin’s head dropped. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was ashamed. “Yeah,” he muttered. “She was a lost cause from the beginning.”
The door clicked shut behind Nina, the echo lingering in the stale apartment air. Vinny sank back onto the couch, rubbing his jaw. I took a long pull from my beer, watching him over the rim.
“She made it sound like she’s about to be homeless,” I said, voice dripping with casual disdain. “You’d think her parents left her with nothing.”
The words came out without thought, triggered by her flair for drama.
Vinny dragged his hand over his face, voice low. “They left her a house. Savings too.”
That’s what I thought, but something about his expression, his posture, gave me pause. In the next breath, a memory crystalized in my mind. I’d walked past the kitchen, his parents whispering, with their heads touching over the counter. Something about a house sale. Clearing debt. Life-changing.
Maybe Matt and Sarah had a little secret. Or maybe I’d misheard. But Vinny’s eyes avoided mine when I said, “I heard your parents talking about debt that they needed to clear.”
Vinny let out a humorless chuckle, eyes fixed on some stain on the carpet. “That there was so much debt, the house sale barely covered it?”
I leaned back, beer balanced loosely between my fingers. For a moment, I said nothing, and his ears turned red, arms crossed over his chest. “Why did she work so many hours in high school if she had money?”
Vinny shrugged. “Dude, that was all my parents.” He finally turned to me, eyes focused on my cheeks rather than my gaze. “Besides, she didn’t have much else to do.”
I nodded. “Yeah. She must be just as bad as her parents. Accruing debt left and right.”
Vin laughed softly, then scratched his chin and rubbed his eyes. “Nina? Now you’re just talking out of your ass.” He shook his head. “Let’s just forget it, yeah?”
“Yeah.” I sat down next to him on the couch.
He was right. Nina Reyes was nothing to me. No matter what happened to her parents’ money. He fidgeted through the entire basketball game, his gaze wavered, pupils restless as he kept glancing at the door she’d left through.
“You’re quiet,” I said, tapping my bottle against my knee. “Still thinking about her? Regretting not saving the poor little stray?”
Vinny shrugged, eyes glued to the muted TV. “She’s family.”
I snorted. “She’s been a liability since high school.”
He shifted, the cushions squeaking under his weight. “She’s not bad, Linc. She just … does too much. People who try that hard burn out.”
I tilted my head, studying him with detached curiosity. “That’s your justification for not letting her drown? Pathetic.”
Vinny bristled but didn’t argue. He never did. That was the difference between us. He’d bend to avoid conflict; I’d burn the whole place down before I ever bent.
“Don’t look so fucking sad about it,” I said, standing to grab another beer from his fridge. I twisted the cap off with a pop, foam hissing. “She’s made choices to land herself here.”
When I turned back, Vinny’s gray-blue eyes were locked on me, narrowed. “You know? This bully facade of yours is getting old. That’s my cousin you’re talking about.”
I paused mid-sip, beer hovering near my lips.
A flicker of amusement curled through me.
“Since when do you care what I say to her?” My tone stayed light, but I clicked my tongue before adding, “After all, I couldn’t have done half the shit I did to her in high school without you.
Feeling guilty now? Isn’t that … what, seven years too late? ”
His brows pinched. It was quick, but I saw it.
“Look,” he said, exhaling sharply. “All I’m saying is … she got dealt a bad hand. And neither of us are helping.”
I watched him for a moment, reading the tension in his shoulders as they rolled slightly inward. Brows and mouth tightened, with wrinkles forming between his eyes.
Amusement stirred my belly. “You know? If you feel so bad, you could always help her.” I swayed to the right, bumping my shoulder into his. “It’s not like I’m going to stop being your friend. I’d only lose all my respect for you.”
Vin’s fingertips twitched around the bottle, shoulders rigid, features twisting ’til his eyes closed.
He stood abruptly. “Shut up, Lincoln. I’m tired and gotta pack for my trip. We’ll catch up in three weeks when I return. You can see yourself out, right?”
He retreated into his bedroom without another word. I stood, feeling the urge to follow him and ease the tension between us. I wouldn’t argue with him anymore. Vinny was my only true friend.
One thing was clear though. In her desperation, Nina Reyes was growing claws. That could be a disaster, thanks to Natasha. So I’d make sure she stayed right where she belonged.
The next morning, I slid into the strategy room, coffee in one hand, briefing folder in the other.
Carmen was already at the head of the table, heels kicked off under her chair, one leg curled beneath her.
Natasha sat midway down the other side, tapping at her phone.
She patted the seat next to her without looking up.
“Morning, Lincoln,” she mumbled.
“Morning. What’s on the hero’s docket today?” I asked, bored as I leaned back in my seat.
Carmen scrolled through her slides. “Infinity Weddings wants us to build out their micro-influencer strategy for next quarter. We also need to address some of these local accounts.”
Her eyes met mine, neutral and assessing, before sliding back to her tablet. “Most of them are asking about the staffing changes. Specifically, they’re inquiring about how to retain Nina Reyes’s services independently of our firm.”
Natasha’s nails clacked against her mug. “She’s not worth the trouble,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.
My jaw tensed, a flicker of irritation sparking in my chest. A curt response danced on my lips. No, she isn’t, Natasha, but you fucked up and gave her power she doesn’t even realize she has. Instead, I bit my tongue and sipped my coffee.
The rest of the attendees trickled in. I paid no attention to their small talk. Carmen’s brown eyes pierced mine from across the table, a ghost of a smirk playing on her lips. I was about to tell her to spit it out when Curt, the CEO, walked in.
Everyone quieted instantly, waiting for his instructions.
“Good morning,” he said, taking his seat. “Today, we’re discussing progress with Infinity Weddings and any additional areas of concern. Carmen, please begin.”
Carmen launched into a succinct yet effective presentation about remedying our relationship with them and outlined next steps for their marketing strategy.
Questions followed about how the graphic design team would collaborate on the campaign.
As creative director, I provided concise responses outlining next steps, including delegation and subteams. Curt nodded along, expression unreadable as always.
“Alright,” he said. “Anything else?”
Carmen scanned the room before speaking again. “I believe there is something else we should address.”
All eyes focused on her. Most missed the slight tilt at the corner of her mouth. Everyone except me. I did that same gesture when someone fell into my play.
“The finance team may have more details on the broader implications, of course,” she said, blonde hair cascading back as she tilted her head toward George. The balding man practically lit up under her attention.
“I’m concerned by the number of local accounts inquiring about internal moves in the past six weeks,” she continued, pausing to let it sink in.
Heads swiveled, whispers stirring, but she pressed on, undeterred.
“All of them contacted me personally to share they were most distressed by Nina Reyes’s sudden departure and would be interested in working directly with her. ”
Curt coughed awkwardly. “Well, if that’s what they prefer, Reyes’s noncompete clause expired when her employment ended. Provided she isn’t actively soliciting our clients …, there’s nothing we can do. Especially if they want to work with someone who’d mess up so catastrophically.”
Carmen scrunched her nose, then smiled, tilting her chair sideways to face Curt fully.
“All due respect, sir, but Nina Reyes is currently driving the highest conversion rate in a brick-and-mortar store in the city. She’s managing content for Reality Bites.
Their reels tripled foot traffic last week alone. Smart strategy, minimal spend.”
Curt huffed, unconvinced. Honestly, I knew Nina was good, but even I struggled to believe it.
Carmen wasn’t done. “I’ve been inspecting her work on the drive. Including a partial presentation I recovered from the Infinity project. Seeing what I have, it’s inexplicable why she’d present that final product. That woman isn’t a dummy.”
My jaw ticked. “How do you explain it, then?”
She fucking snickered. “Oh, I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t here. But I’d imagine she had an explanation.”
Curt set his coffee mug down with a sharp knock. “That is of no importance. What’s done is done, and it brought us to you, honey. So be grateful.” Carmen’s lips pressed into a thin line, but she nodded. Curt turned to George. “Monitor the client attrition rate. This meeting is done.”