Rise: Rise & Fall Duet Book 1 (Shaken 3)

by Grahame Claire

  “It’s just for fun,” I brushed off. “How’d you get here so fast?”

  She fiddled with her long gold chain. “I wasn’t that far away.”

  “Looking for new property?”

  “Something like that.”

  I tilted my head, pretty sure she wasn’t being completely forthcoming, but I wasn’t going to press. Not now anyway.

  For the nineteen years we’d known one another, we’d had that silent respect to allow one another to talk about things on our own time . . . unless it was too important to let go. I still wasn’t sure at what point exactly she’d figured out I snuck into classes at NYU, but she never mentioned I wasn’t officially enrolled until I confessed.

  She’d left for London almost immediately after graduating, and her absence had left a giant hole in her place. I’d understood her need to go, but selfishly, I’d wanted her to stay in New York. She was my only friend. I didn’t have to pretend with her, and that was rare. My entire life I’d been acting like everything was perfect to the outside world. She’d seen through that and still accepted me.

  Because she knew me so well, she knew I’d needed her despite she was across an ocean. I couldn’t afford the phone bill, but she’d made weekly calls to us without fail. We didn’t have that kind of support from anyone else.

  “Does this mean you’re so vital to the business here that you can’t go back to London?” I asked hopefully.

  This had been the longest she’d been here in years and we’d barely had time to catch up. Seeing her in the flesh instead of on a video screen solidified how much I’d missed her.

  “I’m . . . not sure.”

  “That’s not like you.” When Beau made up her mind about something, that was it, consequences be damned. Another thing we had in common.

  “There are things about New York I’ve missed.” She picked up a paintbrush and ran her fingers over it.

  “Like us.” I dotted a cloud onto the canvas.

  “Like you.” Her tone took on a soft quality, a contemplative one.

  Beau had always understood about my situation with Eric. When she’d lived here, she’d always been careful to extend an invitation to things, even though she knew I couldn’t go. Because of that, she’d taken the time to do things with me—with us—and I’d never forgotten her thoughtfulness. She’d ventured into our world, but we’d rarely crossed into hers no matter her efforts.

  I’d wanted to go to the parties and weekends in the Hamptons and museums to experience all the things I never had the chance to. And if I’d only asked, she’d have flown us to London whenever we wanted. Maybe I should've taken her up on that, but it didn't feel right. She needed to know our friendship had nothing to do with who her family was. We loved her for her.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” Eric continued painting without looking up when he spoke.

  She touched his shoulder. “Thanks, pal.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Any news?” She shifted her attention back to me.

  I shook my head discreetly and mouthed later. “Same old, same old,” I said with false cheer.

  “How’d ice cream go with Lincoln?”

  That question was worse than the last.

  “It was awesome. He loved it.” Eric beat me to the answer, and it wasn’t the one I would’ve given. “Then he helped us find a good parking space, make dog food, and he’s taking me to get a suit.”

  Slowly, one of Beau’s perfectly shaped brows rose. “Is he?”

  “Oh, and we had dinner last night. But you were there for that.”

  You forgot the donut snack. And that he made sure we got home okay last night too.

  “Sounds like you’ve been hanging out a lot.” Beau’s voice held a tease to it.

  “More like he keeps showing up,” I said under my breath.

  “Lincoln?” She swung her knees toward me. “My brother, Lincoln?”

  “That’s the one.” I made a ding ding ding motion with my finger. “It’s weird. You and I have been friends for almost two decades. I never met him, and now he won’t go away.”

  “Sorry. I’m still trying to wrap my head around him making dog food.” Beau scratched her head.

  “He peeled the carrots,” Eric said.

  “Lincoln? Peeled carrots?” Her eyes rounded. “Please tell me you have photographic evidence.” She grinned.

  “Nope.” The last thing I needed were any pictures of him that I could look at any time.

  Her phone buzzed, and some of the other students gave her admonishing looks.

  “That’s him.” She held up her phone and his name was displayed on the screen.

  “You’ll never guess where I am,” she answered.

  From the sound of it, all was forgiven between them. I’d learned yesterday that his apologies were impossible not to forgive. I was slowly seeing, day by day, that he was both genuine and often worthy of forgiveness. Unlike some, whose hearts were like coal. Dark. Hard.

  “Have you eaten?”

  Beau tapped me on the shoulder and held up one hand in a question gesture.

  “Us?” I wasn’t sure if she was speaking to me or Lincoln.

  She nodded.

  “We haven’t eaten since lunch. Not even time for a snack.” Poor guy. He endured whatever we had to do without complaining. I forgot about the snack. He was probably starving.

  “Can’t we just get takeout?” Beau complained.

  I heard the rumbliness of his voice but couldn’t make out the words.

  “Fine.” She hung up. “He made a reservation.” She kicked out her feet. “I just want to get out of these shoes,” she moaned.

  Me too, sister.

  We both had on killer heels. I was ready for sweatpants and fuzzy socks.

  “Where are you going for dinner?” Why had I asked? I didn’t care about one thing that had to do with Lincoln except his sister. And Pepper and Miss Adeline. And Teague.

  “Where are we going, you mean?” she corrected.

  “Lincoln’s coming here.” Eric spun on his stool, excitement and hope on his face.

  “We’re meeting him.”

  “Soon?”

  “After you finish your painting,” Beau said with an amused smile.

  He turned back to his work.

  She leaned toward me. “I’m not telling my brother that anyone is this excited to see him,” she whispered.

  “We can’t go,” I said low enough, praying Eric couldn’t hear. “We have to make the dog food for tomorrow.”

  “We did that yesterday, so we could come to art class.”

  Guess I wasn’t as quiet as I thought. “Right.” I didn’t want to disappoint my brother, but I didn’t want to see Lincoln. If he hugged Eric again, I might crack to the point I didn’t dislike him anymore.

  I might actually like him.

  Which made no sense. He wasn’t exactly charming. So when he did unexpectedly kind things, somehow that made him more endearing.

  The image of him shedding his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves popped into my mind. He’d let me boss him around without complaint. Maybe he wasn’t the best carrot peeler, but his effort and willingness had saved us time. Made life easier.

  If there was one thing I’d learned over the years, it was that life was never easy.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Lincoln

  “Mr. Hollingsworth? This is Seth Higgins, city of New York attorney.”

  I gripped the phone more tightly. I wasn’t much for lawyers, but after the incident the other day, I was trigger-shy when it came to law enforcement.

  “Mr. Higgins. What can I do for you?” I tried to keep my tone pleasant, the way I’d heard my father schmooze these people a thousand times. He could turn out to be somewhat useful.

  “It’s come to our attention that a prominent title company in the city hasn’t been properly searching property history. The deeper we investigate, the further back it seems to go.”

  I resiste
d the urge to be blunt and tell him to get to the point of how this concerned me. Instead, I made a hum of interest.

  “In what way was their search inadequate?” And why are you bothering me about this?

  “In most cases, they’d didn’t search at all. Every title they were paid to research came back clear.”

  The odds of that were impossible. If this was a prominent company as he said, the ramifications could be beyond serious.

  “And this company is still in business?”

  “Probably not for long.” He sighed. “We’re building a case against them, and normally we can’t divulge information to the public. Your family has been great friends to the city, and we felt we owed you a courtesy.”

  The longer he spoke, the less I liked the direction he was headed.

  “Your name and company keep coming up in their records.”

  “We have our own title company that runs as a separate entity,” I said.

  “Hopefully, our information is incorrect. How long have you had that entity?”

  I thought for a moment. That was a statistic I should’ve known immediately. “Maybe ten years.” The title company had been my brain child. It seemed ridiculous to continue spending money with other firms that we could keep ourselves. The reputation had solidified and other brokers used our company for their transactions as well. The decision had been a solid one.

  “Most of these are before that. We believe your personal apartment is one of the properties in question.”

  I’d purchased the property twelve years ago from a man in financial distress. He’d contacted me, revealed the number that he needed, and I sent him an offer sight unseen. Based on the address alone, I had equity in it from day one. He needed money quickly, and I happened to be sitting on a mountain of liquid assets, thanks to the portfolio my mother had left me.

  We closed the property in three days.

  I began demolition on the fourth day.

  “I used Titan Title.” Back then, we furnished them with the majority of our business at Father’s insistence. He and the owner had gone to school together.

  “I think you need to come to my office.”

  Unease slithered down my spine. Improperly searched titles. An investigation.

  “Mr. Higgins, what are we looking at here?”

  He hesitated. “I’d prefer to discuss this in person, but the gist? A lot of the property you’ve purchased didn’t have clear titles, including your apartment. We’re trying to determine who has true ownership.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Lexie

  “He’s coming.”

  Eric’s unwavering faith in Lincoln was admirable, but I would be the one to pick up the pieces of his disappointment.

  We’d had four courses at a swanky restaurant where there weren’t even prices on the menu. I hated to admit it was the best steak—best food—I’d ever eaten or that I actually liked the atmosphere. It was posh, but not pretentious. And Eric and I were always dressed for any occasion.

  I scraped the remaining chocolate icing off my dessert plate. “He may be, but we won’t be here.”

  In one way, I was relieved he hadn’t showed up. It had given Beau, Eric, and me time together that we hadn’t had in a long time. She’d talked of her travels throughout Europe. And we’d reminisced about the past.

  But Lincoln was a second away from disappointing my brother.

  He was already close to number one on my shit list. I might have to alter his position to all-time number one if he kept this up. What if he didn’t show for the suit fitting?

  Eric was capable of bouncing back pretty easily, but he didn’t suffer many disappointments in succession. I wasn’t willing to find out how he’d handle it.

  “Dinner’s on him.” Beau threw down her napkin. “We should’ve had champagne. The most expensive bottle.”

  I appreciated the sentiment but seriously doubted Lincoln would even notice. The meal would’ve wiped out our bank account, I felt sure, while barely knocking a dent in his.

  She leaned back in the booth and closed her eyes. “That was delicious.”

  Eric mimicked her posture, and I couldn’t help but smile. “So yummy.”

  I couldn’t disagree. “I’m going to need you two to cart me out of here.”

  “Maybe they’ll let us sleep here,” Beau said. “They should put beds in the backs of these restaurants so we can pass out from our food comas.”

  “Miss Hollingsworth?”

  Beau popped one eye open when the waiter spoke her name. He shifted on his feet and cast a wary glance in my direction.

  “Yes, Benjamin.”

  “Um—” He cleared his throat and leaned closer to her. “The credit card we have on file has been declined.”

  He spoke quickly and had the decency to look embarrassed for us.

  “Lincoln’s?”

  “Yes, Mr. Hollingsworth’s.”

  She grabbed her purse. “I swear these fraud checks they have in place.” She unfolded her wallet and handed him a black credit card. “Cross your fingers,” she said as she handed it to him.

  She had an ability to make awkward situations a lot easier.

  “How much do we owe you?” I asked when he’d shuffled away.

  She waved me off. “Not a thing. He’s going to be giving me cash for this one. Plus, I get to give him a hard time about the great Lincoln Hollingsworth’s credit card being declined.” Her grin was infectious and dangerous. “Should we call him now?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t want to risk he might answer her this time and actually show up. His energy was a lot to handle. If I were being perfectly honest, I wasn’t up to the challenge he presented. Not after the long day we’d had.

  The waiter returned with the receipt, which Beau signed with a flourish.

  “I was going to give him the painting I made,” Eric said, disappointment lining the fringes of his tone.

  I slung an arm around him as my heart twisted. “I bet Beau would appreciate it,” I whispered.

  “But I already have one for her. This one is for him.”

  I kissed the top of his head. He was an absolute angel. “Maybe you can give the one you made for Beau to her this weekend.”

  I couldn’t speak for Lincoln. He showed up at unexpected times or not at all, and I wouldn’t make a promise to Eric I wasn’t sure would follow through.

  “Can she come over?”

  “Why don’t you ask her?”

  He cheered immediately. “Will you come over on Sunday?”

  Beau returned her credit card to her wallet. “You got it.” She dropped her wallet back in her purse. “On second thought, why don’t we go over to Teague’s? Maybe he’ll cook for us.”

  “Cheeseburgers?”

  She high-fived him. “I like the way you think.” She scooted out of the booth. “It’s been fun, kids.”

  I hugged her. “I know we’re all busy, but we should make the time to do this more often.” I squeezed her extra hard. “Somewhere more affordable.”

  She squeezed me back. “Definitely.”

  “Need a ride home?” I asked as we walked into the crisp evening air.

  “Sure. It’s not far—”

  She stopped short when the window of a dark car parked in the valet spot rolled down.

  Her father stared at the three of us. No words were spoken, but she seemed to understand what he wanted.

  “I’ll see you Sunday.” She touched my arm. “Call me.”

  “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Hey. You saved Lincoln.” Eric wandered over to the car.

  “Eric . . .” I hurried after him, Beau on my heels.

  Steel eyes slithered from my brother to me. “Are you the one distracting my son from where his attention needs to be?”

  The man was terrifying. I stepped in front of Eric, the pull to shield him strong.

  “Dad, I’m glad you’re here. I want to show you this property I found.” Beau’s voice was too bright
. Too perky. She waved at us as she opened the car door.

  He scowled but slid over. Without another word, she closed the door and rolled the dark window back up.

  “Who is he?” Eric asked as they pulled away.

  “Beau’s father.” How did he know we were here? He’d popped up to see Lincoln the other day too. It was weird. Stalkerish.

  “I wrote our dad a letter. Mom too.”

  I jerked my head toward Eric. “When?”

  “A couple of weeks ago. I gave them to the mailman.”

  “Why would you do that?” I whispered.

  How? How had he known where to send them?

  “I thought it might cheer them up.”

  I closed my eyes. I’d worked so hard to make sure he never thought about them. I didn’t bring them up. I pretended as if they’d never existed, and he’d seemed to have let them go.

  I should’ve known better.

  Eric just didn’t talk about them because he was hyper-sensitive to the fact that it distressed me.

  “Please don’t do that again,” I choked out.

  “Why?”

  We’d been through it over and over right after they left. They weren’t good people. They were dangerous to us.

  “Because they’re bad—”

  “Bad people need to smile too.”

  I put an arm around him. “Oh, Eric.”

  I leaned my head against his. How was I supposed to argue with him about that? Maybe they did deserve a morsel of happiness. I just wasn’t a big enough person to be the one to give it to them.

  I would not forgive them.

  Period.

  “I made you sad.” He hung his head.

  “No, bow tie. You didn’t.” I patted his shoulder. “Please don’t do that again without telling me though.”

  “Okay,” he said agreeably. “Did Lincoln text?”

  I’d taken to keeping my phone on silent in case our father called again. I didn’t have to look to know the answer. “No.”

  Just another person who had disappointed Eric. I needed to be more careful.

  His expression turned determined. Certain. “He will.”