Billion Dollar Revenge (The Lincoln Brothers #2)

6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Chelsea

“Mom, I’m here,” I say into the phone, raising my voice so she can hear me above the taxi honks and pedestrian noise.

Yellow cabs zip by, their horns blaring, while people weave through the crowded streets. A street vendor nearby sells hotdogs, the aroma mingling with the city. Across the street, a busy cafe has tables spilling onto the sidewalk. I stare at the tall glass building on Madison Avenue. The noise of the subway beneath my feet adds to the positives this location offers. Especially after my breakdown.

Evan was quick to get my car fixed because it just needed a new battery, and it was sitting at home after Summer picked me up. I couldn’t thank him because I don’t have his number, and I didn’t want to call up Nova to get it. My body shudders, imagining the interrogation.

“Alright, keep me updated,” she replies.

Her voice feels like a giant hug. “Will do.”

“I have a good feeling about this one.”

I hope she’s right. This is the property Mitchell mentioned to me a few weeks ago.

“We’ll see, Mom,” I reply, not wanting to get my hopes up.

“I love you and good luck.”

“I love you too, Mom. I’ll call you later.”

I hang up as nerves ripple through me. Taking a big inhale through my nose, I exhale heavily through my mouth to shake them off.

“Chelsea?” a deep male voice calls from my left.

I twist, turning my head to follow the familiar voice, and my lips part into a smile.

“Evan.”

He closes the car door and joins me on the sidewalk. I take in the light gray suit and blue tie. His hair is freshly styled and not a curl out of place. It’s almost two in the afternoon, and he’s still looking this good. Unfair. I’m glad I chose to wear my new favorite activewear, including my navy flare pants and matching crop sweatshirt. But my traditional bangs are hidden beneath a baseball cap.

“How did you know it was me?” I tap my hat.

I swear the way his cheeks turn a slight shade of pink makes him seem younger. His eyes sweep over my body quickly before meeting my gaze. “I’ve seen you a few times now.” He runs his hand over his clean-shaven jawline, as if I hadn’t already noticed it.

Which reminds me of our last run-in.

“Thanks for getting my car fixed. It was a huge relief, and you pretty much saved the day.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he says simply. Something about it makes my stomach flutter.

“How much do I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing.”

I roll my eyes. “You can’t expect me to let you pay for it.”

“Why? We’re friends, right?”

“Yes, but…” I stutter out, totally caught off guard.

“But nothing. That’s what friends do.”

My mouth opens and closes, trying to think of something to say, and he just watches me with a wolfish grin.

“Thank you so much, Evan. I really appreciate you taking care of everything. It means a lot to me.”

“I’m glad I could help.”

His usual controlled stance seems a little softer today. More relaxed.

I drop the idea of trying to pay him back. We’ll argue, and it will get me nowhere. Considering it’s only a new battery and not a whole new car, it probably won’t make a dent in his account.

“What are you doing here?” I ask with a smile. “Stalking me?”

“No, of course not,” he rushes out in a quick, sharp voice, his eyes narrowing.

“I’m kidding, relax,” I tease, loving how easy it is to rile him up.

He nods curtly before his eyes shift to the top of the building and then back to me. “Checking out a new office space,” he answers.

My jaw slacks. I hope it's not the same as mine. I won’t be able to outbid him.

“You?” he asks, his eyes drop briefly to my outfit.

It adds to my nerves, so I blurt, “I’m meeting a real-estate agent to check out a potential space for my own Pilates studio.”

His brow lifts. “Which floor?”

“Second. You?”

Please don’t be the same.

“The top,” he murmurs.

Is he embarrassed to say that?

I don’t care. If I could afford the top, I’d buy it. My budget is already generous enough, thanks to my parents. Without them, I wouldn’t be looking on Madison Avenue at all.

“Chelsea?” Mitchell says.

Evan quickly crosses his arms in front of his chest and gives Mitchell a sullen look. Mitchell walks right up to us and stands beside me. He’s wearing a cheesy smile and a pinstripe suit, his blond hair swept back.

My teeth tug on my bottom lip before letting it go so I can speak. “Hi.”

“I got you a vanilla latte,” Mitchell says.

He’s charming and obviously desperate for a sale.

“Thanks.” I smile and take the cup from his outstretched hand.

Evan makes a noise in his throat and drops his hands from his chest to his pockets. Does he actually think I could forget about him? Because nobody could. His tall, broad frame takes up my peripheral vision.

“Sorry, where are my manners? Evan, this is Mitchell. He’s the agent showing me the second floor. Mitchell, this is Evan, he?”

Mitchell thrusts his hand out toward Evan, and I watch with fascination as Evan looks between Mitchell’s face and his palm before eventually meeting Mitchell for a tight handshake. I don’t miss the squeeze that Evan gives Mitchell before they separate. My eyebrows pull together. What’s that about?

“A friend,” I add quietly.

“Are you ready, Chelsea?” Mitchell asks, inclining his head toward the building.

My eyes flick to peer up at Evan, who’s pressing his lips into a thin line. It’s clear he doesn’t want me to leave with Mitchell.

“Yea—”

“Can I have a second?” Evan asks, his eyes holding mine with a tight expression. It confuses me, but I peer at Mitchell with a sympathetic smile.

“Mitchell, could you give me a second to say goodbye to Evan?”

“Sure. I’ll meet you in the lobby,” Mitchell says, already walking inside the building.

I twist back to face Evan, who is wearing a visible flush on his cheeks. His eyes lock with mine, and I get lost in them for a second.

“Care if I tag along?” he asks.

It takes a second to pull myself out from staring into his eyes and take in his question.

My lips part slightly. “You want to come up?” I ask in a higher pitch than normal. “Don’t you have a meeting with a realtor?”

Why would he want to see the second floor? I’m sure compared to the top, it won’t be as nice.

“I’m early, so I can come with you.”

He’s so direct it makes me nervous. “If you want to. It’ll be nice to have someone else's opinion.”

He nods.

“Does this mean I can come to yours?” I ask with a slight smirk.

I’d love to see what his money could buy. I can imagine it’s going to make me jealous. But a girl can dream. Maybe if I work hard enough…

“If you want.”

“I do.”

He looks at me, dips his chin, and leads me to the door with a hand on my back, before letting go to grab the door and hold it open for me.

I shake my head, trying to refocus my thoughts on why I’m here and not on the handsome man in a suit and tie who just had his hand on me.

Evan and I walk inside and join Mitchell. We enter the elevator, and the silence feels thick and heavy. I shift uncomfortably, the noise of the elevator the only sound breaking the stillness. Glancing at the floor numbers as they light up, I try to avoid eye contact, while the walls seem to close in, adding to the awkwardness.

The elevator doesn’t take long, and it opens to a large empty space, with brightly painted white walls, and soft oak wooden floors.

My jaw is on the floor.

“Are you ready?” Mitchell says.

I open and close my mouth repeatedly as I take it in. My heart thumps inside my chest. This is gorgeous, and I can imagine all the Pilates beds set up in this area.

“What are you thinking?” Mitchell asks.

I look to Evan and watch his eyes scan the room, also taking in the space. I’d love to know what he’s thinking.

My lips turn up as I answer from my heart. “It’s exactly what I had in mind.”

“White walls, tons of natural light,” Mitchell rattles off. “All open space.”

Evan comes closer, so I ask him in a whisper, “What do you think?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he taps the back of my arm, inclines his head, and moves away from Mitchell. I follow, understanding he wants us to talk in private.

“What does your gut tell you?”

My brow furrows with confusion. Why does my gut have any say right now? And more importantly, why is he asking me that?

He must read my bewildered look because he whispers, “I’m serious. Every time I have a funny feeling in my gut, it’s because something isn’t right.”

I stop and take his words seriously. My gut doesn’t feel off.

“I’m happy with this place. Deep down, I think it’s the right choice.”

“And how much do they want for it?”

“$445,000.”

He taps his finger on his lips, and it’s weirdly distracting. They are thin and pink. And I’m still staring at them. Fantasizing about what they would feel like against mine when he turns to me.

“Good price. Good location. And if your gut isn’t off, I say go for it.”

I bring my gaze to his quickly, noticing the arch in his eyebrow, but I ignore the fact he caught me looking at his mouth and focus on the fact he’s encouraging me to buy it.

My eyes light up as I bounce on the balls of my feet, beaming with happiness. “I can really see the set up.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he replies.

I walk to the entry. He follows quietly behind me.

“Here, I’d have the reception desk and merchandise. Then I would need a locker room, so I would need to get that built as soon as possible. Then, starting here and filling up the whole space, I’d have Pilate beds.”

“How much does a Pilates class cost?”

I pause and twist to face him. “Why, are you going to attend?” I giggle, running my eyes over him. I force myself to stop imagining him on a bed.

“No.”

I’m teasing. I know a man like him wouldn’t be caught dead doing Pilates. Men built like him like to run and hit the weights. But it would be nice to be a fly on the wall and watch him workout.

I clear my throat and refocus on his question. “I’m thinking $40 a class, and I’d offer bundles. You know…if you attended a class, it would help me.”

He doesn’t answer, instead he just grunts his disapproval.

“I’d hope to have at least fifteen people in here.”

“That would work.”

Evan’s phone rings. He steps away, and I move toward the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking over the streets and buildings as people go about their day and in their work suits. I used to wear office attire, but I’m so glad I don’t have to go to that miserable job anymore. I’m lost in my thoughts, so I don’t hear the footsteps that come up behind me. I think it’s Evan, but when I hear Mitchell’s voice, I close my eyes for a moment. Disappointment floods my senses.

What is wrong with me?

Mitchell begins talking numbers, and I take the contract to read over tonight with my parents over a video call.

“I need to go,” Evan announces.

“We are done here right, Mitchell?” I ask.

“Just read and sign the contact. Then send it to me when it’s all done,” Mitchell says smiling with victory.

“I will, and thanks again.”

I follow Evan out to the elevator. He hits the up button, and then starts madly typing away on his phone.

He finishes the moment we enter the elevator. Tension in the air swirls as we stand side by side. I’m watching the floor numbers move up and sip my latte. We’re almost there when he tucks his phone away. “I’m unsure about this spot.”

I turn my head, baffled by his declaration. “Why?”

The views and the big open floor space are to die for. I saw it online when I was looking to buy the second floor. If he doesn’t want it, maybe…No, don’t be ridiculous, I can’t afford it.

“It seems too big just for me.”

“This would be a place just for you?” I ask, sipping and enjoying the sweet, warm drink.

“Yeah.”

The elevator stops, and the door opens. I walk out along the light brown tile concrete floors and stare out through the floor length windows, glancing at the view of the river. Wow, this is so much better than my spot on level two.

Turning to scan the rest of the space, I take in the brown timber cupboards, black lighting fixtures, and brown timber shelves. It’s all dark, yet at the same time very inviting.

“What’s your plan for the space, if you go ahead with it?” I ask.

He scratches his temple, and his eyes move around the empty floor. I expect him to clam up and give me only a few words, so the next breath of words shocks me.

“This will be my hideaway, so I want it filled with things that bring me comfort. Over there,” he continues and points to a bare wall, “I’ll have a bookshelf for all my favorite books. And over here...” He gestures to the corner by the window. “I’ll set up some weights and a treadmill for working out.”

“Definitely,” I murmur, staring out the window again.

“Kitchen, bathroom, closet, and maybe a bed.”

“What would you need all that for?” I ask, lowering my cup to remove my sweater and tie it around my neck, before picking my drink back up.

“My work hours are all over the place; it would be nice to have somewhere to crash between media blitzes.”

“What are your normal hours?”

He makes a noise at the back of his throat. “My normal hours are no sleep or social life.”

“Isn’t that the life of a CEO?” I give him a playful wink and gently tap him on the arm, ignoring the flex of muscle when I do.

His eyes hold mine. There's softness there and a hint of humor hits his face.

“You seem ready to be one too.”

“Born ready,” I say, dropping my eyes away from his intense stare, suddenly shy under his inspection, as if he can see straight through me.

“What were you waiting for?”

The heaviness of his question sits in the bottom of my stomach. I don’t feel like talking about Bobby. The last time I did, it brought me down. Today I don’t want Bobby to steal my happiness.

“To be experienced at the basics first.” My eyes flick back up and his turn dark.

“You’ll make a good business owner.”

How does he know I needed to hear that? And the fact it’s from someone as successful as him means something.

We’re staring at each other, and the energy shifts. I can’t help but feel a strong, almost magnetic connection, but it’s mixed with a touch of fear. I’m unsure if I want to explore this bond or if it’s safer to keep my distance. The intensity of his gaze makes me question what could be between us, whether I’m ready for it.

My phone alarm rings, reminding me I have a class to teach in half an hour. Saved by the alarm.

“I gotta go teach.”

He only nods. Dipping my chin, I walk out, still feeling remaining tension from being in his presence. I’m at the elevators, and when they open, a realtor exits. I step inside, and when I turn around, Evan has moved. He’s standing by his office doors, his eyes are fixed on me as the realtor says, “Hi, Evan,” in the most over-the-top voice, but he doesn’t let go of my eyes until the elevator doors close.

Finally, sucking in a deep breath, I collapse against the elevator wall.

What was that?