I was in trouble. Big trouble. With Lincoln’s unforgivable sculpted body, gentle manner, and brilliant brain, I couldn’t handlehim—if I was forced to addmyLink, my safe space, to this Lincoln, I wouldn’t stand a chance.
But I needed to know. Now. Before I fell even deeper. Before I drowned.
And it was this flurry of thoughts that had me reaching for my phone. If I could call Link, I would, and I’d know from the depth of his voice whether he was Lincoln.
But I didn’t have his number. We only ever chatted in-app, and his settings had calls disabled, or at least disabled with me.
So I did all I could and messaged him instead.
@pancakesareelite:
Let’s meet at the Overpower LAN.
It didn’t matter that we’d been up for most of the night working, Lincoln looked fresh the next morning in his well-fitted white shirt and gray chinos. His focus was on his phone, but when I walked in, he looked up. As soon as those brown eyes met mine, he smiled.
Yes, it was that lopsided grin, but still my breath caught.
I had once lived a life in the limelight where I was photographed at award shows and stalked by journalists and young actors, yet nothing compared to the adrenaline that flowed through me in the moments of rare attention I got from Mr. Lincoln Carden.
“Good morning, Link-in,” I said, pausing ever so slightly between the two syllables. My blood stopped as I analyzed his every micro facial expression.
But there was nothing. Just a sideways glance at his phone.
“Good morning, Elizabeth,” he said with his usual sigh, except his frustration didn’t seem linked to me. “Anders and Cedric want to meet with you to discuss the design.”
My stomach jumped into my throat, and any inkling of peace that once resided in me disappeared into thin air.
He stood, taking two quick steps toward me. He lifted his hand as though to touch me but then decided against it. “Do you want me to come along?”
I wanted him to. Desperately. But I had to learn to do these things on my own. I shook my head, and he flopped back into his seat.
“You already wasted an entire evening with me yesterday. You can do your work. I’ll survive. Probably.”
“I don’t mind.” He lifted his noise-canceling headset and paused.
I could swear his soft brown gaze raked across my body, even just for a second before settling on my eyes. Much better than when he avoided looking at me.
A touch of red covered his cheeks before he added, “I also didn’t mind last night. It was fun. I guess I’m never beating the dweeb allegations.”
I grinned. The anxiousness in my belly was joined by something else. “Careful. I may ask you to do it again.”
“Let’s,” he said, the headset half on his head, half off.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah. You have so little knowledge, there’s a lot of room for improvement,” he said, and while the comment had my mouth dropping open, it wasn’t an insult. Lincoln Carden wasteasing me.
Crackles of excitement went off in my chest. This was new.
“But go off to your meeting. We’ll talk after,” he said.
I nodded, grabbed our drawings, and went upstairs to where Cedric, Mr. Anders, and the senior structural engineer waited in the boardroom.
“Gordon-Bettencourt,” Anders said.
Cedric mouthed,Seven.
I greeted them with my best smile and willed the nerves out of my hands as I unsteadily laid the drawings on the desk for them to scrutinize. Cedric sneered while the other two looked through it.
