Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Chelsea

A week later

“Crap,” I mutter, slamming my fists against the steering wheel. My car won’t start, and I’m stranded on the side of the road. I suck in a breath, scanning the area for the latch I need in order to pop the hood, but I can’t find it.

I can’t afford to be late for full back-to-back Saturday classes. I’m covering for another instructor today. I live in a suburban area outside the city, so it’s easier for me to drive to work, but days like today, I’m reminded why so many people use public transportation.

I get out of my car and circle it, searching for the problem, but I can’t pinpoint it. Leaning against the side of my white Volkswagen Beetle, I take in the surroundings. The New York architecture stands out against the early morning light. The skyline of dawn leaves the prettiest glow, and I watch the activity surrounding me: delivery trucks, a few joggers, other people walking and talking while holding coffee cups. These moments make me love early mornings. Even at work, it’s all a buzz of excitement. If I can get there.

It’s 5:40 a.m., and my first class starts at 6:30. Once I look at my phone, I realize another five minutes have passed. I need to make a decision quickly.

I call Summer, but she doesn't answer. Nova is definitely out of the question because she can’t drive. With no other options, I call AAA, and they inform me they won’t be coming for another half hour. Missing one class is better than the entire day...

Leaning against my car, I wait impatiently for AAA to come. I realize I haven’t called my boss to tell her my situation. I’m about to hit call, when a car pulls over, and I shuffle closer to the door. The passenger side opens, revealing a tall man with wavy brown hair. It’s not until his piercing blue eyes meet mine that it registers who this man is?it’s Evan.

He strides toward me dressed in a black suit; I’m assuming he’s on his way to work. I run my hand over my ponytail, grateful that I’m not in my dirty sweats like last time he saw me. No, today, I’m in my favorite black leggings, baby blue crop, and a black long-sleeved jacket.

“Evan?” I say, stepping away from the car. A ribbon of hope twirls inside me.

His face is pinched tight, especially between his brows.

“Chelsea. I thought it was you,” he responds with a blank expression, coming to stand beside me.

The waves of nausea in my belly make me try to lighten the mood. “Do you usually pull over for anyone who looks like me?”

Seeing a familiar face right now brings immense relief.

He rubs the back of his neck before tucking his hands into his pockets. “No.”

“I'm only playing with you.” The words die on my tongue when he doesn’t laugh with me. His usual unreadable expression is firmly in place.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, nudging toward my car.

I release a strangled breath. “My car won’t start. It started fine this morning, but halfway to my job, it just died,” I explain, knowing I’m already starting to babble.

It seems I do that a lot with him. Well, more than my normal amount.

“Did you call AAA?” he asks, keeping his eyes down on my car.

“Yeah, they said they’d be here in half an hour,” I reply, lips pressed together to prevent further rambling.

A glint touches his eyes under the early morning light. “What time do you start work?”

“My first Pilates class starts at six-thirty.”

He runs his hand along his jaw, which is noticeably smoother than the last time I saw him.

Nodding, he peers at his watch. Which I can’t help but notice is silver with gold details embossed with the Rolex logo. “My driver can drop you at work, and he can come back for me. I’ll deal with AAA for you.”

I scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll order a taxi after I’ve dealt with this.”

“No, just take the ride.”

I can't imagine this handsome man waiting by a white beetle to tell AAA it broke down.

No, just no.

“I don’t want to be the reason you’re late to work. Your job is important.” I wave him off. Being a CEO has to be demanding. He has better things to do with his time. It’s my problem. I can deal with it.

“So is yours,” he counters.

I shake my head. He’s just being nice; he isn’t serious. “It’s only Pilates. I’m not saving the world or anything.”

“You instruct people to care for their health. Don’t discredit yourself,” he says sincerely.

I gaze stupidly at him, momentarily stunned. My lips part as I suck in slow, deep breaths. Why does he have to remind me that my job isn’t just a hobby? Did the damn universe set this up? Bobby and his boss sure do have very different views on Pilates.

“Thanks, but I can’t take your ride. I can cancel my first class. I was just about to call my boss.”

He steps toward me so his face is closer to mine, his eyes hard, demanding. “No, take my car. I have nothing important due today,” he urges.

My knees buckle at him being close again. “But you’ll have to wait here.” I point at the sidewalk.

“And?” he counters, his expression blank.

I press my lips together and force myself to look at the car and not at him.

“This doesn’t seem like something you’d normally do,” I murmur, wondering why he’s doing this. What’s in it for him?

“And how would you know?” he challenges in a low annoyed tone.

I’m judging him when I shouldn’t; it’s unfair to him. “True.”

Each time I’m around Evan, I learn something new about him. Like a new layer is peeled back that surprises me every time. He also doesn’t know that I’m not used to guys helping out. Bobby would occasionally lend a hand if he wasn’t too busy, but even then, it was rare. I’m used to handling everything on my own, so the idea of someone actually stepping in to help feels foreign. My dad would, but he lives in Connecticut.

“Go,” he commands.

Glancing at the time, I see it’s already ten-past six. I need to leave if I’m going to make it to the class. I’ll have to argue with him later.

“Alright, but Evan, thank you. I mean it.” I hope he can see the sincerity and appreciation in my eyes; that I mean that from the bottom of my heart. I’ve had the shittiest start to the day and that selfless act means the world to me. I’ll have to figure out a way to pay him back. “I owe you a drink!”

He rubs the back of his neck, and I notice a slight flush on his skin. But I don’t have time to respond, I need to get going.

But just as I walk off, he calls out, “Wait up. Give me your keys.”

I turn, rush back and hand over my keys. The brush of his fingers over my hand causes the hairs on my arm to stand up. His brows furrow, and I wonder, did he feel that rush too?

When I peer up from under my lashes, I find his lips thin and his face contorted. Shaking off the weird exchange, I turn and walk back.

Before I climb into the car, I pause, taking one last look at this man who just postponed his entire day to help me out. His stance remains unchanged—tall, dark, and powerful, with his hands tucked into his pockets. Intimidating, yet confident. A force to be reckoned with. I shake my head, clearing thoughts of Evan out of it, before sinking into the leather seat.

Evan must have texted the driver because he knew my name. After I climbed in, he asked for the address of the studio. I don’t understand why Evan did it, but he did. He’s been doing things, like hugging me back when I cried in his arms, caring for me when I was about to faint, walked me to my friends to make sure I was safe, and now this…I don’t understand, and I don’t have the time, headspace, or emotional energy to dwell on it. Right now, I just need to get to work.