Brady had waved him off but Lincoln knew better. He knew Brady and wondered just what he had up his sleeve, and if he wasn’t part of a greater scheme to get Sadie back in the family fold in Boston. Brady had mentioned before how much her parents wanted her back in the city, but would his friend really execute such a plan without even mentioning it?
Didn’t make any sense.
“I’ve got one week to get this Hopetech thing wrapped up and then they go live,” Grant Harrison, one of his partners, said as he walked right into Lincoln’s office. “I’ve got so much riding on this one investment; every investor is someone I sold personally on the company.” He sunk into the chair in front of Lincoln’s desk. “Julia’s been a huge help, working on the software every step of the way. I don’t know how it could possibly fail but…”
Lincoln had never seen Grant so shaken-up about anything. The man had delivered a baby in an elevator the year before and hadn’t been so ruffled.
“It’s not going to fail,” he assured his partner. He had money riding on the company, as well, their failure standing to lose him a lot of money, but he wasn’t worried about it.
Grant nodded. “I know. I just need a minute.”
Lincoln held out his hands in invitation. “Take however many you need. I’ve got time.”
His partner assessed him. “More now that you don’t have the dog at home?”
“You heard about that, huh?”
“Brady mentioned that you’d gone out to see Mercedes and you left your dog with her.”
“Sadie,” he corrected. “She goes by Sadie.”
“Batshit crazy is how I remember her,” Grant commented. “Tornado of drama. Queen of all bitches. Hellcat with a demon soul.”
Lincoln rolled his eyes at Grant’s overdramatic assessment. “She’s changed.”
“Well, the big house will do that to a person. Still, things have been pretty calm since she’s been out of the picture. I like calm.”
Lincoln leaned back in his chair, Grant’s words grating.
“I know you always had a soft spot for her, Linc. That became pretty clear that night we walked in on her and Caleb banging on her dad’s pool table and you beat the crap out of Brady for yelling at her.”
“I beat the crap out of Caleb. I only punched Brady in the mouth,” Lincoln reminded him.
“For yelling at his sister who was screwing one of his friends.”
“She was just a kid, Grant. Thirteen years old and angry as hell. Brady treated her like garbage.”
“And you wanted to be the one to save her,” Grant countered. “We all saw it. But that girl was beyond saving. Probably still is.”
“She doesn’t need saving now. She just wants to be left alone.”
“Gladly,” Grant muttered. “Hopetech. Stay on it,” he added before walking out of Lincoln’s office without a backward glance.
He hated the way Grant thought of her, that old image of Mercedes too memorable to imagine her any other way.
But she wasn’t like that now. He had no doubt the changes in her were authentic. That she’d lost that huge chip she used to carry around, her need to destroy everything in her path extinguished.
When he pictured her now, she was soaking wet and laughing by her pool, the image stuck in his mind, taking up permanent residence.
Even hours later, the image was still in the forefront. Well past working hours, he slid into a car with her still on his mind. Not bothering to make excuses for himself, he took out his phone and called her.
“Your dog has a sense of humor,” she said by way of answering.
There was something to be said about the feeling of a smile on his face after the night he’d had.
“A good sense of humor or a sick sense of humor?” he asked, wondering just what Gordon had been up to.
“I guess it depends on which side of the joke you’re on,” she told him. “From my side, which was ass in a bucket of water, it wasn’t that funny.”
Lincoln held in a laugh. “How’d he manage that?”
“A little push here and a wiggle there while I was doing some cleaning. Next thing I know, I’ve got my back end stuck in a bucket. It was like a bad comedy show and only Gordon was laughing.”
He could hear the smile in her voice and liked that she could laugh about it. In another life, she’d have lost her mind if anything remotely similar happened.
“Not that I don’t have some sympathy for your predicament, but I’d’ve loved to have seen that. It’s a shame there’s no witnesses to retell the story.”
“Oh, Lucas was here,” she said.
Lincoln narrowed his eyes. He’d forgotten about Lucas, the volunteer Sadie held so dear. It was irrational to be unhappy about another man’s presence. He’d only seen Sadie a handful of times in the last few days; he had no claim on her. His body disagreed, flaring with heat at the very thought of her, hardening as his imagination got the better of him.
He wondered if she felt it too.
“Lucas, huh?” he murmured.
“It’s his last week,” she said.
That was promising. “Is he moving?” Far, far away?
“He’s completed his sentence,” she told him. “Back to Gordon—”
“Whoa, whoa. Wait a second. Completed his sentence?”
What had he missed?
“He was here doing court-ordered community service.”
Lincoln sucked in a breath through his nose. “You’ve been out there alone with a criminal?”
She had the audacity to laugh at his concern which made him equal parts angry and hard. He adjusted himself in his seat.
“He’s a kid that got caught trying to steal a car, not a mass murderer.”
“Still, it’s not exactly safe,” he reasoned. “You’re isolated out there, Sadie.”
“I’m also a criminal. Just like Lucas.”
“You’re not a criminal,” he argued in her ear.
Sadie’s brow furrowed. “Did you forget about the three years I spent in the prison system?”
“I haven’t forgotten, no. But—”
She wasn’t sure what he was going to say but it didn’t matter. He was dead wrong.
“There are no buts, Lincoln. I killed someone. I went to jail. I’m no different than Lucas, other than the crime he committed was a less punishable offense. I was just as guilty as he was.”
“You’ll have to forgive me if I’m still not completely convinced you should be out there on your own with a convicted criminal.”
He sounded angry and, if anything, Sadie’s brow furrowed even more.
“His charges were reduced,” she reasoned. “And he isn’t a violent offender. I don’t take those on.”
“How long was his sentence?” Lincoln asked.
“A hundred twenty hours.”
“Pretty hefty,” he commented.
“It was a nice car.”
He let out a noncommittal hum. “Can we go back to your butt stuck in a bucket of water?”
She laughed then. “No, we cannot.”
“Are you sure there aren’t any pictures? Any proof I could verify the story with?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Her cheeks heated at their friendly banter. She’d never been this friendly with Lincoln before. Their relationship had always been that of little sister and older brother’s friend. This back and forth, calling and joking with each other, was new territory.
Certainly she knew he was off-limits for her, for both their sakes, but it felt nice.
Being wanted and appreciated had a way of warming her from the inside.
For years, she’d felt like an outsider. Growing up, girls of her stature had been groomed to be nothing more than showpieces. When her own mother, a famed scholar, passed away, Sadie’s chances of becoming something more than someone’s arm piece, had died too. She didn’t have another avenue of escaping the path already laid out for her. She was taught, by nannies and her father, that little girls were meant to be seen and not
heard.
Brady, on the other hand, had been taught everything. He’d been groomed to be a leader and to take over the Charles name when the time came.
It had led her to believe that she was only meant to look nice and nothing more. She’d felt under-appreciated and unloved and she’d acted out as a result.
Sadie wished more than anything to go back in time and somehow save her mother. There was still no cure for cancer but there had to be something she could do. She was sure her mother would have shown her a better path earlier in life.
Maybe then she wouldn’t have made so many terrible mistakes.
She hadn’t been strong enough to find her own way at such a young age. Some people were born with the drive to succeed in everything they did. Brady was one of those people. He was Midas and his life was glittering with gold, everything he touched a glowing success.
She, on the other hand, had struggled, though if she hadn’t, she’d have never found out that dogs were her passion. The opportunity would have never come up, and she’d probably still be aimless in the city if she’d have stayed.
“How’s my favorite guy?” Lincoln asked, thankfully changing the subject.
“He’s great.” She smiled, thinking of the big dog lying at her feet. “He likes to be close when we’re in the house. After dark, he settles down wherever I am. Not sure if he needs the company or thinks I do, but I like having him underfoot.” She wiggled her toes against his fur. “He keeps busy during the day. To be honest, I worry the longer he’s here the more problems we might have getting him to settle in back home.”
“Do you want me to take him back?” He sounded worried.
“The training itself is going well. We train quite a bit. Lots of repetition but also new commands. I think you’ll be pleased.”
“So, what’s the problem?”
“I think he’s fallen in love.” Sadie looked down at Gordon beneath her feet, Cocoa right next to him, the pair nearly inseparable.
Lincoln laughed. “With you or Cocoa?”
“Both.” Sadie smiled though he couldn’t see it. “And don’t laugh at him. First loves can be very trying.”
“I know mine was,” he answered.
“Well, do tell.” She mindlessly toyed with the financial papers in front of her. Lincoln had always been private. Even as a teenager, when he and Brady had been that age where boys are obsessed with sex, he was reserved. It was interesting to hear him talk so openly about his personal life.
“I think I’ll save that story for another day.” He chuckled. “So, Gordon’s in love and might not want to come home. Is that what you’re telling me?”
“No, I don’t think he’s in quite that deep but he could stand a good dose of his dad. To remind him of what he’s missing.”
“Ah. I see another ride out to your house in my future.”
“If you can,” she said, wanting to make sure it was a casual invitation, which it was, though she’d overstepped her own rules where it came to Lincoln by a mile, and she damn well knew it.
She heard a car door shut on his end of the phone and keys jingling.
“I never even asked what you were up to tonight. Sorry, that was rude.”
“Just getting home from work. I have some old Chinese food in my refrigerator that I was hoping was still edible. Then I was planning to work for a while longer because I have nothing better to do.”
“Hm. This all sounds very familiar but mine was pizza.” After a pause she said, “It was edible, by the way.”
“And you’re working?”
“Paperwork and bills wait for no man.”
“You know, I was thinking. As payment for your excellent service in training Gordon, I could take a look at No Dog Left Behind’s financials. Help set you up with a long-term plan.”
Sadie leaned back and looked at the stack of cash sitting in front of her, dread weighing heavily on her shoulders.
There was no way she wanted Lincoln, or anyone else, digging in her financials. Personal or business, there was too much at stake to have someone nosing around and finding out where her money was really going.
“Brady already took care of that,” she lied deftly. “And I’ve already got part of my trust with your firm.” That was at least the truth. “Don’t worry about payment, Lincoln. We’ve known each other a long time and Gordon’s a pleasure to have around.”
“Well, I can’t pay you nothing. What if I at least start with bringing you dinner Friday night when I come visit Gordon?”
She fought the smile that tried to stretch across her lips at the mention of another visit from Lincoln.
“That would be a start,” she hedged, pointedly ignoring those pesky rules she’d set for herself.
“Then I’ll see you Friday.”
5
Friday evening, Lincoln tapped his phone a few times, requesting a car, as he and Brady made their way to the lobby of the building. Far easier than fighting his way to the T in the unseasonable, scorching heat. June in Boston was usually a pleasant experience. Warm days, followed by nights that had lost their chill flowed one after the other. This June, however, had been one for the record books. Temperatures well into the nineties had lingered for nearly a week, proclaiming an early start to summer.
“You could just hire a driver,” Brady pointed out for what felt like the thousandth time.
As was routine in their friendship, Lincoln shrugged at Brady’s suggestion.
“Could have moved closer to the office,” Lincoln inserted Brady’s usual comment.
“It’s too busy down here,” Brady imitated Lincoln’s deep voice. “I like the quiet.” He tacked on, “I’m a loner, Dottie. A rebel.”
Lincoln laughed as their ride showed up and he got in the backseat. “I never said that.”
Brady rounded the car and slid in the other side. “No need. It’s implied.”
“I do like the quiet,” he admitted.
“Gotta tell you. I’m still surprised you stayed in the city after school. Always thought you’d move to somewhere…I don’t know. Mellower.”
It had been tempting, but Boston was what he knew. It was where he was born and raised, educated at the finest prep schools and colleges. It was where his family still lived. It was the only social scene he knew or understood. It had just been easier to stay and do what he knew.
“Where would I go?” He asked Brady the question he asked himself every time the thought of leaving the city came to mind. “What would I do?”
“You could retire,” Brady pointed out.
“I’m thirty.” He laughed. “Not exactly retirement age.”
“Age is just a number.” Brady waved him off.
“You looking to get rid of me? We do have a contract.”
“We’re always friends first, contract or no. If you wanted out, we’d figure it out.”
Lincoln turned and faced his friend. Brady, usually good-natured and charismatic had a solemn look on his face.
“Where is this coming from?”
“I worry about you,” Brady shrugged. “We all do.”
Lincoln laughed. “Please, stop your fretting. It’s creeping me out.”
There wasn’t a time in his life that Lincoln could remember without Brady, Grant, or Dylan in it. Their fathers had been friends since they were children and the tradition had carried down. They’d all seen each other through the worst of times, including the death of Brady’s mother and the scandal his sister created.
God, just thinking about Sadie made his blood heat. Not just the Mercedes he remembered but the Sadie he was just getting to know.
To him, the lust he harbored for her was a black mark on his relationship with Brady. His friend had no idea that she was the sole reason he’d come over so many times when they were younger. Just catching a glimpse of her sometimes was enough to sate his wishes.
The fact that he was headed to her place within the hour and had no plans to tell his friend, made him feel like he was keeping more s
ecrets.
“You okay?”
Lincoln sighed and mentally pulled himself together. It had been so long since Mercedes had been a part of his regular thoughts. For so long, she’d been completely separate from their world, practically exiled. They’d all moved on without her—some people, as if she never existed at all.
Even as infatuated as he’d been with her, it had been easy for him to put her in a box and pack her away. He finished grad school and went about his life, building a career, while she served her time in a penitentiary, barely sparing her a second thought.
She’d been too reckless, too careless, and she’d paid the price.
But, Gordon’s appearance in his life had blown her absence to bits, and she was on his mind every few minutes.
It was unsettling.
“If you keep asking me that I’m going to punch you.”
“You haven’t punched me since we were fifteen.”
“Sixteen,” he corrected.
Somehow, without meaning to, he’d steered the conversation back to Sadie and the time they’d walked in on their friend Caleb having sex with her in Mr. Charles’s office.
“Fucking Caleb,” Brady growled, still angry after fifteen years.
Coincidently, the reason Lincoln had punched him was because, instead of being upset at Caleb, Brady had verbally gone after Mercedes. She’d been just thirteen, with tears and challenge in her eyes.
It still gutted him to remember that look on her face. Vulnerable and angry, she’d set fire to their social circle, challenging everyone that stepped in her path.
“I’ll still punch you,” Lincoln changed the subject. “I’m fine. I’m always fine. I like my house. I like our business. I like my life.”
“Here’s the thing,” Brady pointed out. “You know my condo?” He kept talking before Lincoln could answer. “I love it. And our business? I love it. Every last stapler and paperclip, I love the damn place. I love my life. I love living in the city and finding things to do, no matter what time it is. I love the women—”
No Love Left Behind (Boston Billionaire's Club Book 1) Page 6