She stood, scanned the office one last time, and headed for the door. Before stepping out, she turned. “I love the bones of this office,” she said, eyes glinting. “I have a plan, Lincoln. So carefully designed, it could be one of your little drawings. We’re handling it my way. You don’t get to back out if something rubs you the wrong way.” She opened the door, waved, and added, “Bye-bye.”
Her presence lingered—her smirks and hints thickening the air. Nina had shouldered the Infinity Weddings’ presentation flop. There wasn’t much I could do without my memories. Filesgone. Clues dangling. Natasha would be key. I’d have to play the part, dig through the mess, follow every breadcrumb. Show Nina I saw her.Ninawas the point. Everything else was just noise. I could play Natasha; it’d be on my terms, though, not my past’s.
I walkedinto the strategy room eight minutes before the weekly meeting. I’d read notes of the ones I’d attended and those I’d missed while on leave because I didn’t want to give off more idiot vibes than I already did in this polo. I glanced at the open seat next to Carmen but took the seat next to Natasha. She screeched with joy, squeezing my forearm.
“That’s an… interesting choice for the office,” she said, throwing her lip up at my shirt.
I smirked. “I think pink is my color, don’t you?”
She huffed, eyes narrowing. “Bold. Not really your usual… image.”
I leaned back, dimples sharpening. “Maybe I’m expanding my brand.”
Her eyes widened as she studied my face, and she must have found something convincing because she leaned in until her tits pushed against me so hard I felt the padding in her bra. I had to fight the urge to push her away.
Before she could snake her arm around me, I grabbed her wrist. “We’re not clubbing here, you can’t fuck your way into relevance.”
She glanced at the conference room, pulling away immediately. “Oh, Linc.” She exhaled, placing her hand on my thigh. “You know exactly how well I can do that.” Her tone turned sultry. Thankfully, she retreated her hand before I threw up on her. “I’m glad you’re back to your charming self.” Her tonesnapped to normal. “You’re going to have to make up for kicking me out, hun.”
“What can I say? I’m a delightful bastard.” I pushed the disgust down my throat and winked at her. Then I lowered my voice. “Especially, given that whole Infinity Weddings situation…”
Natasha’s eyes glazed over with maliciousness. “So, you do remember?”
I shook my head. “Not everything.” That should give me some kind of cover.
“Oh, Linc,” she whispered, “itwasunfair to let you deal with that mess on your own.” Her thigh brushed mine under the table. I curled my hands into fists and crossed my legs. “I have something in mind. Isn’t it great to be back?”
I nodded, my eyes meeting Carmen’s. Her expression was set in a neutral scowl, but the smallest nod showed her approval that I’d decided to play along. Natasha laughed—it was brittle, too high-pitched. As much as it wasnotgood to be back, if Natasha was cooking something, I needed to keep her away from Nina.
Finally, the CEO, Curt Dupont, walked into the room. Before he’d even taken his seat, he called the meeting to order with clipped efficiency, but all eyes slid toward me when the first agenda item landed on the table: campaign timelines. Curt had made sure earlier in the day that I was up to running point. I’d have appreciated it if I didn’t think the guy was a douche and fired Nina without batting an eye.
I didn’t falter. My team presented on each project, and I was able to fill in the blanks, streamline processes, and identify weak handoff points. My voice was steady. Assured. It felt good—foreign but right—to stand in my seat as creative director, not just a man clawing for fragments of his past.
Carmen lounged back in her chair, pencil rolling between her fingers, smirking. Natasha was loving every second, as if my wins were hers, glossy hair catching the light, lips pursed in faked concentration.
“Speaking of streamlining, Curt,” Carmen purred, “you might want to look at client attrition. The weekly rate has certainly skyrocketed. They’re all falling into your former employee’s hands. Nina Reyes.”
The sound of her name could have been that of a stone dropped in the middle of the glass table.
George from accounting adjusted his glasses and tapped at his tablet, pulling up numbers. “She’s right,” he muttered, brows knitting. “Six small contracts in the last week, and four larger clients. Individually small, but the trendline’s concerning. If it continues?—”
“The issue with the original pitch must have been misjudged,” Carmen finished smoothly, eyes cutting to me, daring me to flinch.
“I already told you, sweetheart,” Curt said, “use that pretty head of yours to make us money and leave that woman to rot. Stop bringing her up.”
Carmen pursed her lips, and closed her notes, pencil tapping twice on them. Natasha smiled, her eyes crossing briefly with Curt’s. She didn’t bother hiding how she loved that—Nina being belittled. Natasha might be spinning something, but this time I was watching out for Nina, even conjuring asshole Lincoln so I could keep Natasha away from her.
By the endof the day, I was exhausted, my head pounding—not in a bad way, just in a finally feeling-useful way. As I steppedout of the elevator into the lobby, Natasha was waiting. She fell into pace beside me, trying to wrap her arm through mine, but I stopped her.
“Natasha, get your hands off me.”
I’d play up the Lincoln she wanted to see to get information and protect Nina. I wouldn’t play couple with Natasha. I had no interest in anyone other than Nina—and if she were to see…
She pouted.
“You and I are not together.” It was clear in the texts—no love or respect. “And Nina’s living with me.” Time to play the part right so she’d stay away from my place. “Don’t turn up and fuck up my plans for her.”
She smirked, loving the idea that I had some plan to mess with Nina. I didn’t correct her, letting her think we were both still against Nina. As I stepped away from Natasha and lifted my eyes, I froze.
