Nina knocked on my open door, then came to stand next to me without waiting for my response. I smiled at her, and she curled her lips, nodding at my closet. “What’s wrong? You don’t like your precious suits?”
She was teasing me. And I was fine with her ploys to have me drinking warm water or busting my balls any way she wanted. This time, though, I was in on the joke.Fucking music to my ears, Nina.
“How business is this company exactly?” I asked her.
She laughed, the sound settling in the hole in my stomach I seemed to always have around her.
“Dress code is just a tad above business casual. Honestly, you’re the only one in a three-piece suit unless there’s a prospective client pitch.”
“Help me?” I asked, pointing at the closet, eager keep this newfound ease between us going.
Nina’s eyes gleamed with excitement. I should have known. She stepped into the closet without hesitation, moving hangers this way and the other. Unsatisfied, she moved to the dresser, rifling through one drawer after another. Then she smirked and brought out a freaking light-pink polo.
Nina turned to me. “Here,” she said with a wide smile, occasionally breaking into chuckles. She placed the polo over my chest, smoothing the wrinkles, making me shiver. “This and some slacks will work great.”
If Nina Reyes wanted me in pink, she’d get me in pink. Or drinking warm water or room temperature coffee in leopard-print sunglasses. No questions asked.
“That’s a great idea, ba—” I had to dial it back in, control myself.
The reminder of what we weren’t lodged in my gut. All the mocking words and disdain I’d spat about her pulled tighter and tighter like a noose I’d tied with my own hands. The pressure of making up for everything made a cold sweat trickle down my back.
The secondI stepped out of the elevator at Dupont Digital Dynamics, I felt the stares—too casual to be casual. My body moved on instinct, muscle memory dragging me toward my desk as if I’d never left. Ross’s voice bled in: “Routine, chunk large tasks, anchor yourself.”When I reached a desk in the center of the office, my email signature flashed in my memory: Associate Creative Director. If these things were mine, they’d look familiar, the way things at the house did. I glanced around until I spotted the office with the matching title. I stepped into that office with floor-to-ceiling windows and a stunning view: a peek of the lake in between bold skyscrapers. Against the sterile, impersonal desk, the soft pink of my shirt stood out. This time, I had a purpose beyond design and money.Nina.
The door creaked open, and there stood Carmen as I turned around, with her hands on her hips, dressed in a form-fitted sweater dress and knee-high boots, wide belt cinching her waist. She had that edgyI’m good and I know itair to her.
“Cute office,” she said, eyes skating over the mock-up photos and sterile furniture. “Very… creative decor for our creative director. I guess leading by example is your motto.”
I sat and leaned back, measuring her intentions. “I reached out. You never responded.”
Her grin was all teeth. “I chose to help Nina first. She needs more clients, wouldn’t you agree?”
Thinking of Nina’s apartment, I rolled my head, neck cracking under the movement. “There was a slide deck on the team’s cloud, and now I can’t find it anymore. I need it.”
Carmen circled around the desk and stood by the windows. The glow of the rising sun gave her the edge of some kindof corporate warrior. Looking over her shoulder at me, she smirked. “I’m sorry, it sounds like you’re telling me what to do.” She turned to face me, hip cocked on one side. “I should make myself clear: I will help you wheneverIdecide the time is right.” She ran her fingers through the strands of hair that had fallen from her bun. “In the meantime, you should ask your little lackey about it.”
I eyed Carmen. Her gaze was fiery, daring me to complain about these terms she hadn’t even mentioned. “I’ll tell you this: files don’t disappear. People change them, move them, hide them, pretend to forget about them…. There’s always a trail. I bet Nasty Tasha could help; you’d just need to, you know, keep your enemies closer, if you can stomach that.”
I examined her carefully, then gave her my dimpled smile. “Or you could just give me the file, you know, as a favor.”
She laughed, a strange sound manufactured to pretend casualness, but it was pure calculation. Twirling her necklace around her index finger, she pulled a thumbdrive from between her cleavage. “Cashing in favors this early on?” She sat on the corner of my desk, claiming my territory with her movements. “Sure, I could.” Carmen held the drive between her fingers. “But you don’t even know the right questions yet. Who moved the file, who had second thoughts, who came up with it—answers like that don’t come in a neat deck.”
Carmen’s eyes shone with anticipation. The implication was clear: it’d been deliberate. I’d need those answers for Nina, for me. Was this what I’ddone?
The uneasy feeling of those moths in my stomach flapped awake, gouging me from the inside out. Natasha hadn’t texted or emailed about Nina’s presentation for Infinity Weddings. Anything regarding Nina’s firing had been discussed hush hush, in person, so there’d be no trace. Not a good sign for Nina. Or me.
My shoulders tightened. “She won’t tell me anything now. I kicked her out of my house.”
Carmen dragged a fingertip along the edge of my desk, nails metallic green, leaving trails on the faint dusty surface as if she’d just tagged my space. She met my stare head-on, daring me. “Play Natasha. Keep her close.” She tilted her head, the words dropping slow. “Come on, Lincoln. Wouldn’t be your first time toying with someone.”
The tension coiled in my throat again, winding tight until heat pricked my skin and my shoulders knotted. I didn’t mind playing the viper after what she’d said, not one bit.
But would Nina? I did mind playing the version of me that left her in knots and flinching. I’d been asshole Lincoln for years, and since the accident…, I’d been building distance between him and me, especially for Nina, so letting him seep back in was risky. Ninaneededassurances that there was a firm line between past and present me.
Carmen smirked. “Oh, boy, you have it bad, don’t you?”
I sat up, leaning on the desk. “If you’ve got something to say, say it straight.”
She clicked her tongue. “Look, you do whatever, but if you want to dig, really dig…, you may not be able to keep yourself clean. Natasha’s just your loudest problem.”
