* * *
I’ve spent so many years giving away my wealth that I’d almost forgotten how disgustingly rich Deacon was. He always used it as a weapon, forcing people to his will. Dick gave him thirty years of servitude, my parents lost their marriage, and complete knobs like Kyle tried to copy and paste themselves in his image.
After the split, he used it as emotional warfare, paying my ticket to Oxford and sending endless amounts of money that I was too much of a muppet to throw back in his face.
Back then, I lapped it up. Thought I was invincible, until I chased a girl to Bruges— it’s always fucking Bruges— and lost it all. Shit story short, it was my fault, then Reed bailed me out, and he’s never let me forget it.
I’ve worked really fucking hard for fourteen years to become a better man, using every cent Deacon tried to bribe me with to help someone else. Dad’s mortgage is paid, Manny got his bar, and every cent I earn from tenants goes back into making this building better for the people living here.
I have no use for titles or status, but I think I can be forgiven for enjoying the benefits, just this once.
It’s for a good cause, after all.
It only takes a quick call to the hangar to prep the family plane— and some convincing that Reed approved it and the trip is for family business.
Now, I need to understand why Ivy is having an argument with herself in the hallway.
“Hey.” I hasten my approach, catching her elbow in my palm. Even in scuffed sneakers and jeans, she’s stunning, enough of her hair falling out of where it’s tied up that she’s clearly been attacking it in frustration. “Careful there. How about we try a full breath?”
I’m pleased as she follows my advice, her chest rising and dropping slowly. Relaxing in small doses. “Much better,” I say. “Tell me how I can help.”
I don’t like to flaunt it, but the truth is, there isn’t much money or influence can’t solve.
She huffs a laugh. “Convince my mother I’m not making a terrible mistake?”
Except that. “If she knows you, she’s already aware of that,” I say, ducking to catch her gaze. Long lashes frame her wide brown eyes, but at least her breathing is slowing down.
When she notices I’m still holding her, she slips slowly out of my grasp, not meeting my eye. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Or is this part of a new landlord outreach program I’m not aware of?”
“Perhaps I simply wanted to see if my memory had captured your beauty adequately.”
“And?” The morning light glows around her, and it’s not a stretch to say she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.
I sigh theatrically, enjoying the tug of a smile I can tell she’s holding back. “Sadly, it doesn’t hold a candle to the real thing. You defy belief.”
For a moment she doesn’t say anything, her gaze sliding to her feet. But unless the crack in the linoleum (must get that fixed) is fascinating to her, I’d say I’ve found Ivy’s shy spot. I’m expecting the door to close, but it doesn’t, and her next words are soft, small.
“Why are you here, Lincoln?”
“We have an appointment.”
She meets my eyes finally. “Do we?” There’s a lash on her cheek, and she turns into my touch when I reach out to brush it off.
“Yes. You’re minutes away from being very charmed by me.”
There’s a shine to her eyes, a spark, asking me to lead the way. It’s a request I’ll gladly answer as many times as she asks. “That was last week. I don’t remember booking a repeat.”
“I took the liberty.”
“You do that a lot.”
“Well, would you look at that,” I say as I lean in, kissing her cheek. She smells divine, freshly washed and skin warm. “Right on time.”
“Lincoln…” She fades off. I know what comes next, but I’m not finished.
“I’m also here to take you out,” I say, sliding one hand into my pants pocket and holding the other out for her. “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”
She leans on the doorframe and crosses her arms, and I remember exactly how good it felt when all that toned muscle slackened under my touch. “Do I need to change?”
