3
Lincoln
There was something gratifying about watching everyone walk into the office, bleary-eyed and caffeine-dependent, while I was already halfway through my first set of emails. I was sure it had helped me get this promotion.
I stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows and caught a glimpse of Lake Michigan behind the skyscraper across the street. I loved looking as ruthless as I felt—tailored tan blazer, crisp indigo shirt, hair pushed back immaculately. Unbreakable. That was the goal. My dimples showed in the reflection, an asset of mine that helped me appear warm and unthreatening whenever I needed.
Behind me, the door opened without a knock. Only one person entered my office that way.
“Natasha,” I said, not turning around.
“Good morning to you too.” Her voice carried her natural edge of fabricated sweetness. Her heels clacked against the tile floor as she approached. “I forgot to tell you about my little errand yesterday.”
She was perched on the edge of my desk, so close our legs brushed as I faced her. Her red lips curled into a smile thatnever reached her eyes. Her hair shone in the early morning light, looking expensive, artificial. She blended seamlessly into our world of inflating the value of products and people. Best to have her on your side than against you.
“What errand?” I asked, taking another sip of coffee. She loved teasing with information I didn’t have, and I loathed jumping through hoops to get it.
“That girl,” she drawled, “Nina Reyes.”
I clenched my right hand inside my pocket. “What about her?”
“She’s working at some cupcake shop. Reality something. Charming, really. Smelled of vanilla and desperation.” Natasha tilted her head. “She said I had something to hide. Can you believe it?”
Her lips twitched and she avoided my gaze, lowering hers to her shoes. “Tasha…,” I grunted, “what did you do?”
She winced, her shoulders straightening. “I did what you said…,” she mumbled.
I took a few seconds to think about it. Then Iknew. We were having a work dinner at an Italian restaurant. We’d had wine, discussed the Infinity Weddings logo. She’d thrown herself at me, again. And that time, I let her, and we ended on the floor of my bedroom, with me fucking her on all fours. She’d stayed the night, and in between her blowing me and us screwing again, I’d mentioned how I had my eyes on this promotion. How Nina had a good shot at it. How easy it’d be toimproveher presentation when she sent it to us.
I faced the skyline. She’d fucked with Nina’s slides. Almost costing the company a career-changing client, but also ensuring I got this creative director title. I fought to keep the emotions—irritation, amusement, calculation—from my expression. It all gathered and coiled high in my chest. “Did you tell her what you did?”
Natasha examined her nails, already dismissing the encounter. “Well, of course not. But contrary to what you said, she’s not stupid, Lincoln. She suspects.”
“Does she, though?” I stepped aside and turned to Natasha again. “If she really did, she wouldn’t be playing baker. She’d raise hell for wrongful termination and go after you.”
Natasha grimaced. “Me?! I only did what you asked! I wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t said it needed to be done.” She smirked. “I thought you’d be thankful, baby. I made sure you got this fancy corner office.”
“You overstepped,” I stated, sitting back down. She reached for my hand, but I moved it away.
“I went after what I wanted.”
“Please,” I scoffed. “If you wanted a chance at that promotion, you should just do your fucking job rather than ride on my coattails.”
“Come on.” A sultriness overtook her lips now. “You know I ride other things…”
“Not funny.” I clenched my fists tight enough for my nails to dig into my palms. “I needed no help getting this role.”
“Maybe not, Linc. I guess we’ll never know.” Her red lips curled, showcasing her performative smile, a subtle wobble threatening to break through. She leaned toward the edge of the desk, her knees almost touching me. “You’re so sure I wasn’t even a runner up in those conversations. I do?—”
I pursed my lips. “Don’t flatter yourself. You do font work, Tasha.” I hardened my gaze. “If this gets out, no one else will hire you. You fucked up.”
“Maybewefucked up.” She licked her lips. “After all, I would not have come up with this on my own. Andyou’rereaping the benefits. You’re lucky to have someone so…investedin your career.” She uncrossed her legs. “Besides, who’d say anything? You? That would killyourprospects as much as mine.”
I dropped my head back against my chair. What a fucking mess. She had a point, though. The best course of action for me was to make sure her wrongdoing stayed hidden. Keep your friends close…
Leaning forward, I said, “Let’s make sure it doesn’t leave this room. You covered your tracks?”
“Like it never happened,” Natasha said, she arched her back, pushing her breasts up. I wrapped a strand of her hair around my index finger, smiling. Then I clicked my mouse to wake the sleeping screen, dismissing her without words.
