Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Chelsea

“So how many viewings do you have?” Summer asks from beside me. Her and Nova came with me today to inspect some potential locations for my new pilates studio.

“Six, but they aren’t far from each other,” I tell them both, wondering if I should have elaborated before now.

“That’s okay, we’re excited to go on this adventure with you,” Nova sing-songs.

I peer in the rearview mirror at her wearing a genuine smile as she looks out the window.

“Pull up anywhere here,” Summer says pointing on the left, reading what I can see on the GPS.

I park the car and climb out with my heart beating wildly in my chest. We all stand on the sidewalk, gaping up at the beautifully aged New York building.

Mitchell?the agent showing the listing?will be joining us here soon.

“This is huge,” Summer says, taking the words right out of my mouth.

The street is busy with people walking by and I’m having to get out of their way.

“Come over here and I’ll call?” I start, but I’m cut off by his voice.

“Chelsea?” Mitchell calls out. He walks toward us, wearing a nice navy suit. He seems young for an agent...maybe early twenties? Stopping short in front of me, he smiles and holds out his hand. “I’m Mitchell. It’s nice to meet you in person.”

I slip my hand into his and shake it. “Hi, Mitchell. Nice to meet you.” Pulling my hand out of his grip, I point beside me to the girls. “These are my friends, Summer and Nova.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” he says, stepping over to them and shaking their hands too. Then he returns his focus to me. “Are we ready to find you the perfect property?”

“Yes, please.”

“Okay, good. So this building here…” he starts to say, pointing to the one we’re standing in front of, “…is the first one. Follow me.” With a nod to us, he walks to the entrance.

The girls are mouthing behind his back, emphasizing how hot he is. They’re pretending to fan their faces, and I shake my head but roll my lips to contain a laugh. I hope they don’t get caught. I’d be mortified if he saw them obsessing over him. He’s nice enough, but I’m not here to date; I’m here to find a property. This is all about the new Chelsea.

He opens the door, and we walk inside as he explains about the history of the property. As we look around getting a tour, I snap photos and write some thoughts down in my notes app in my phone. Including things I like and dislike. Even ideas of how to transform the spot with more ideas the girls point out.

We leave that space after thirty-five minutes, and I don’t give him clues as to whether I will go ahead with it or not. I’ve only seen one so far and after my conversation with my mom, I want to make sure I do this for me. I’m going to trust my instincts and get the right studio space. That means exploring all my options.

“The next one is right next door,” Mitchell announces, striding to the entrance next door.

We follow along and explore the second space, doing the same things as the previous?taking photos and notes. I prefer the first one to this one, so with less questions, we are out after twenty minutes.

When we exit the building and stand on the sidewalk, the girls and I are ready to head to the next location.

“Let’s grab a coffee after the next so we can debrief,” he suggests, looking directly at me and sounding hopeful.

“Sure. I can’t say no to a vanilla latte,” I say with a tight smile. Caffeine sounds good right now. After only two, my head is beginning to pound, and I’m ready to sit down for a break; I suspect today is going to be a really long day.

He shows us through a third property before he takes us to a cute coffee shop, the perfect location for a pit stop to refuel.

We all order the same?vanilla lattes. Sitting down at a table together, he asks me what I thought about the first three. So I explain to him that, so far, the first one is more my style, with the fact it’s more of an open concept. The second is too small, with too many rooms, and the third doesn’t have enough natural light where the studio is. Only a portion of the room gets great light. A part of me worries I’m being too picky, but I refuse to settle. I’ve spent the last few years doing that, and now I’m determined to get exactly what I want.

I plan to hand in my resignation at the firm and finish up within two weeks, as per my contract. I try not to let my mind wander about how long I can last with just Pilates if it takes too long to find the right studio location. But I can’t afford any mistakes. I can do this. I just need to trust myself and more so my gut. It won’t steer me wrong.

Mitchell explains where the next location is, and I tell him I’ll drive there because it’s too long of a walk for Nova. She was in a car accident over a year ago, which resulted in her getting a fractured pelvis and internal bleeding. Since then, she hasn’t been able to walk as much as she used to.

The next two are pretty close to each other, but they’re in areas where I wouldn’t feel safe running late-night classes.

My pulse pounds in my temple, and I’m starting to get nauseas. “I think we should break. I need to eat. I’m fading fast.”

“Same.” Summer sighs.

“Me too,” Nova says.

“We could have lunch?” Mitchell starts.

I wince and swallow the lump that’s formed at his insinuation. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to grab lunch with my friends,” I say, hoping he takes the hint.

His eyes widen and he clears his throat. “Sure thing. Let’s meet at the next spot at two. Will that give you enough time?”

His response has me relieved. “That would be great, thanks.”

He nods, a small smile on his face as he walks away.

“I think he has a soft spot for you.” Summer elbows me as she slips beside me, pulling my attention to her.

My eyes flick to Nova, who is rolling her lips to hold back a laugh.

“No chance. I’m not interested in anything but my business.”

“Summer is only playing. We know you’re still hurting,” Nova says.

It’s all still raw, but it’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I worry what that says about me. Shouldn’t I still be crying over the breakup?

“Let’s go have lunch,” I say, ready to walk down the street to find something.

“My hip needs a rest. I’ll wait over there,” Nova says as she points to the nearby park bench.

“Of course. Summer, could you please help Nova, and I’ll grab us all some food.”

“I’ll be fine on my own.” Nova waves us off.

“No. You’re not sitting at the park on your own,” I say. “Summer, stay with Nova.”

Summer winks at me and loops her arm with Nova’s.

Nova is mouthing off at how we’re being ridiculous. But as they walk off, I pause, watching as Nova limps slightly. I’ll have to offer to drive her home after lunch. I’m grateful for her support and really appreciate the girls coming out today. But I’d hate to push Nova too far.

I walk over to a sandwich shop and enter. Inside, I move to the menu and can’t help but recognize the voice at the counter ordering. Deep, yet raspy and soothing.

I can’t believe my eyes when I see Evan, Nova’s brother-in-law. My breath catches, horrified. You’ve got to be kidding me.

I’ve only met him briefly once; it was over a year ago now, at his parents’ place, when Bobby canceled our date. Evan found me crying outside and asked if I was okay. Instead of answering with words, I stepped forward and cried into his chest. After the initial shock, he wrapped his arms around me. I quickly realized what I was doing and got so embarrassed, rushing off before he could say a word.

Thankfully, I haven’t had to face him since. And I really don’t want to now…

I shrink behind the woman in front of me, which is silly, because I’m five-nine and she looks to be five feet. I still hope he doesn’t recognize me.

As he stands with his back to me, I can’t help but take in how impeccably dressed he is in a creaseless dark gray suit, crisp white shirt, tie, and shiny designer shoes, which makes me internally groan. He stands out, looking every bit the powerful man he is.

Why did he have to show up now, without Summer and Nova as a buffer?

I keep my chin down and gaze on my comfy activewear set, which I just realized are covered in stains.

Crap.

He’ll keep walking because he’s probably forgotten what I look like.

But when his shoes appear in front of me, I recognize him by his familiar, rich, spicy scent, making my nostrils flare as I take in his distinctive smell. I slowly straighten, but I freeze as I look up at him, seeing he’s wearing a smug smirk.

Double crap.

I stare blankly at him for a few seconds as my face heats. He knows exactly what I was trying to do.

“Hello, Chelsea,” he says in a gritty voice.

“Hi, Evan.”

“No hug for me today?” he asks, teasing.

“Oh my God,” I wince, cringing at the memory. “I still can’t believe I did that. I’m never going to live it down, am I?”

“Absolutely not,” he says with a grin. “But it’s not every day I get to have a beautiful woman in my arms.” His eyes double in size, locking me in place. The air leaves my lungs in a silent whoosh at his words.

“Definitely not beautiful today. You always catch me at my worst,” I mumble, flustered, looking down at my trainers before meeting his piercing gaze.

“I’ll try better next time.”

I don’t reply because the line is moving, and there’s only the woman in front of me. I haven’t even looked at the menu, too preoccupied with Evan. He’s just so easy to talk to, and I don’t want it to end yet, so I blurt out, “Did you order a sandwich?”

A playful smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Well, that’s usually what you do at a sandwich shop, right?”

“I know, I’m just trying to get your recommendation,” I tease.

“Hmm, let me think,” he says, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “It’s a sandwich shop…they offer sandwiches.”

Laughing lightly, I roll my eyes at his deadpan delivery. “Seems popular,” I counter, pretending to be unimpressed, but fully aware of the butterflies dancing in my stomach. “Is it always this busy?”

“Pretty much,” he says, his tone softening as he holds my gaze a second longer than necessary.

Just then, they call out his order number. He hesitates, as if torn between grabbing his food and staying a little longer. I’m relieved, but only because I need a moment to gather myself.

“I better grab that,” he says, but there’s a lingering note in his voice, like he’s not quite ready to leave.

His jaw clenches, and for a moment, I expect him to say something else, but he turns and strides to the counter. I watch him as he grabs the bag, and when he spins around, catching me checking him out, I quickly dart my eyes away. To my surprise, he returns.

When he’s beside me again, I force myself to look at him, and my stomach somersaults and then grumbles loudly. I wrap my arms around myself, as if that's going to help shut it up.

“You better go order,” he says. His eyebrows have joined in the middle, assessing me.

“I’m in line to do just that,” I reply, just as my stomach rumbles loudly again. Seriously?

“You’re really pale. Go sit over there, and I’ll get you something,” he insists, directing me to a chair. His eyes drop slowly over my body, settling on my legs before meeting my gaze. I’m a little lightheaded and really nauseous now, and I bet it’s from my recent loss of appetite and sleep.

“I’m fine…” I think…

“You look like you’re going to pass out,” he argues.

Turning my hands so my palms are facing up, I inspect the color of them, but they don’t look unusually pale. Still, I’m not about to argue with him or find a mirror to check. I don’t care that much, it’s just food. And my body clearly needs something to shut it up and stop screaming at me. Before I faint, I nod. “Okay. But I need enough for three.”

He stares at me for a moment, and I get a sense he’s about to ask me something else, but instead, he shakes his head. I find myself stunned, watching him move effortlessly to the counter before I turn and find a table in a quiet corner with a view of outside.

I smooth down my pants, trying to make them look better. It’s pointless, because I’m sitting in stained clothes, with three-day-old oily hair tied in a bun on my head, and old, crusty makeup, which is so ungodly embarrassing next to his pristine suit. Usually, I’m not this self-conscious. I don’t even know why I care what he thinks of me. I shouldn’t...But I worry that my appearance screams, “I just broke up with my boyfriend,” and I don’t need his sympathy.

But for some dumb reason, I care what Mr. Evan Lincoln thinks of me.

I stare absentmindedly out the window when a soft bang snaps me out of my daydream, and I see Evan has returned with a tray full of food and drinks. The wrinkle in between his brows and the lines beside his eyes remind me that he is older than me. Maybe late thirties.

He takes a seat opposite me, filling the chair with his large frame.

“You must be hungry,” I tease, trying to ignore the warm rush I feel when our knees touch from under the table.

“It’s for three,” he replies as he leans his elbows on the table.

I shift far back in my seat so there's no more physical contact between us. I stop and try to think of the last time a guy did something like this for me. I come up short. Yet here’s this man, generously spending time and money on me.

“That’s still a lot,” I protest, looking at the amount to feed an army, not three girls.

He shrugs, unfazed. “Eat what you want.”

“What will you do?” I ask when I notice he hasn’t moved.

“Eat my sandwich,” he replies simply.

Emotion clogs my throat, and I fight back a laugh. I clear my throat and pick up the bottle of Coke, taking a sip. The sweet sugary liquid soothes me, and I close my eyes, savoring the taste.

When I lower the bottle, I find Evan's gaze fixed on my face. I can’t sit here like this any longer. The intensity of his look is too much.

“Can you start eating? I’m uncomfortable with you watching me,” I say, hoping to break the tension.

He doesn’t answer, but he sits up, dropping his elbow from the table and closing the distance between us.

Unwrapping his sandwich, he takes a bite while staring at me with a popped brow as if to say, you happy now?

I giggle at his sour expression.

“What?” he asks, leaning back, his eyes tightening at the corners.

“The fact that you were going to sit and wait for me to eat, when you’re clearly hungry too is adorable.”

Evan's powerful presence is intimidating. So when his flat expression softens?and I swear a flicker of amusement hits his face?it relaxes me. It makes him more approachable.

We return to silence, my stomach dancing now that I’m giving it some sugar, but I’m still not completely at ease. There’s still a strange fire burning in my body. Distracting myself, I sip more of my drink. When I feel satisfied, I sink down into my chair, totally forgetting about his legs. But this time, instead of moving my knees, I leave them be. The connection between us feels less uncomfortable now.

I pick up the chicken pesto sandwich and take a bite. “This is amazing!” I mumble around a bite full of food.

He nods but doesn’t speak.

“Now I see why there’s a line,” I babble, even when I should shut up because he’s not replying.

I keep eating until I’m satisfied; Evan watches me between bites of his own food until his is all gone.

I stop eating to take another sip of Coke.

“Are you feeling better?” he asks.

“Much.” I rub my stomach and begin to fold the rest up to have with the girls in the park.

He leans forward so his head is closer to mine, our eyes level, and my breath hitches when his mouth moves to my ear. I stay frozen, my pulse rising as his low voice says, “It’s nice seeing you again. Next time I see you, make sure you’re well fed.”

When he pulls back, giving me a smug expression, I can’t help but give him a smart response. “Yes, sir.”

The fire that blazes in his eyes makes me swallow hard.

“I need to head to work. Where can I take you?” He’s clearly changing the subject, which I’m glad about.

My lips twitch. “Right. CEO of The New York Press, right?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, rising to his feet.

Resentment flares in my chest as I watch him straighten his expensive suit. How many nights had Bobby stayed late?missing dinner, missing me?just to impress this guy? The thought makes my stomach churn. It snaps something in me.

I stand. “I can walk back on my own. I need to take lunch to Summer and Nova.”

He grabs the dirty tray, which looks ridiculous with his designer suit. But before I can protest, he speaks, “I’ll walk you back. My brother will kill me otherwise.” Then he turns and disposes of the trash before rejoining me.

That’s right, Nova’s fiancé.

“Whatever,” I say, picking up their food and exiting the shop.

We walk side by side down the street, the thickness and silence between us overwhelming me. I can’t wait to get back to Summer and Nova so I can catch my breath. Being around Evan confuses me; he gives me that hot-and-cold feeling.

When we close in on Nova and Summer, their lips twitch into a satisfied smile. “Hey,” they greet us. “We were about to send a search party.”

“Look who I bumped into at the sandwich shop,” I say, gesturing to Evan, who’s standing beside me.

He nods before speaking. “I’m heading back to work.”

I turn toward Evan, giving him a genuine smile. “Thanks for lunch.”

With another clipped nod, he strides away. I mindlessly watch him, and when he’s out of my sight, I settle into the chair beside them and hand over their food.

Summer clears her throat. “Um, excuse me. Care to tell me how lunch went?”

I shrug and shift on the chair to face them. “It was alright. We barely spoke, to be honest.”

Summer scrunches up her face, puzzled. “Really?”

“I’m sure he thinks I’m a blubbering mess,” I reply, wondering why he made me so skittish?

Nova giggles. “It’s okay, that’s Evan.”

My mind replays the moments our legs touched or when he said, “ next time I see you, make sure you’re well fed.” Those weren’t awkward, but I keep that to myself. I don’t need her in my ear about Evan. We have nothing in common. I’d occasionally see him at Nova and Jeremy’s events, but that would be it. Our paths won’t cross.

Evan remains an enigma, and I wonder why he’s being so kind to me. It has to be for Jeremy’s sake.

I shake my head and sink farther into the chair while the girls eat. We get back in the car and move to the next location, but the next few properties just aren’t right. Either too small, too big, too expensive or have a weird layout that would cost too much to renovate.

“I have one more, but it isn’t available to view yet,” Mitchell informs us once I explain that I’m not really interested in any of them.

“Are you talking a month or longer?”

“Oh no.” He shakes his head. “Within the next two weeks.”

“That’s okay. I’d like to view it before I make my decision.”

“I’ll call you when it’s open and organize an inspection.”

“Great,” I say as we say goodbye and head to the car.

We drive home, and as soon as we walk through the door, I feel like I’ve been on an all-night bender?exhausted from the day.

On the way home, we decided to have a girls’ night with an array of snacks and fast food. Like a little treat for our long and tiring day.

After a quick shower, I slip into my favorite black sweats and join Nova and Summer in the living room. The moment I sink into the sofa, I tuck my legs under my butt and throw a blanket over them. Ready to watch a drama-filled show about selling expensive homes.

Summer gets a bottle of wine.

“Can’t forget these.” She holds the bottle of wine by the neck and the glasses in the other hand.

“I need a big glass tonight,” I remark, accepting the wine with a grateful smile.

She offers me an apologetic smile. “You’ll find the right place soon.”

“I know.” I sigh, opening the Pinot Grigio and pouring each of us a full glass. “Thanks for keeping me company, girls. Here’s to friendship,” I toast, smiling through my exhaustion.

“And to your new life that will be filled with love and passion,” Summer adds.

I hum into my glass, taking a sip as my excitement for this new life adventure returns.