No Love Left Behind
Boston Billionaires Club
Jenni M Rose
Edited by
Kathy Bosman
Cover Design by
Najla Qamber Designs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Epilogue
Afterword
Chapter 1
Also by Jenni M Rose
About the Author
For my kids
CRC, NAC, PPC
I hope if I’ve taught you anything, it’s to dream big.
You’re smart. You’re capable. You’re kind.
You can go anywhere and be anything you want.
Nothing is beyond your reach.
I’m behind you every step of the way.
1
“Oh. My. God.”
Lincoln Greene had to agree with his friend and business partner Brady’s assessment.
Gordon had really outdone himself this time.
Lincoln looked at the trail of destruction the dog had left through the house: the sofa ripped to shreds, stuffing and fabric everywhere. The leg of his expensive coffee table looked like a beaver had been at it, the table listing to one side.
“Dude,” Brady muttered as the ping of a phone sounded.
Lincoln turned to see Brady recording the devastation of his living room for posterity.
“Gordon?” Lincoln called as he stepped over what used to be a couch cushion. “Where are you, buddy?”
He kept his voice neutral, knowing if he freaked out, the dog wasn’t likely to show his face. The coward.
“Come on,” he called again. “You want a treat?”
Gordon was blind, deaf, and dumb to the outside world when it came to the prospect of getting food. One mention of a treat had him running out from somewhere in the vicinity of the main-floor bathroom, heedless of the mess he’d made. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, his lips turned up into a smile.
Since his sister, Audrey, had dropped the beast off a few months ago, Gordon had gone from an adorably mischievous fluff ball to a monstrous, destructive furniture-eating machine. Big and muscular, he tended to scare off other dogs at the park before they got a chance to see his soft side, people veering off the sidewalk when they saw him coming.
“Holy crap,” Brady marveled. “Is that the same dog?”
“Yeah,” Lincoln agreed as Gordon approached him, finally remembering the mess he’d made. “Big, dumb oaf. What did you do?”
Gordon laid at Lincoln’s feet, head down and submissive.
“Gordon. No!” Lincoln said firmly.
The dog’s eyes widened and he rolled onto his belly.
“You’ve got a firm grip on this, don’t you?” There was laughter in his partner’s voice. The dog’s tail thumped on the floor at the sound.
“No tail wagging,” Lincoln warned. “Bad dog.”
If anything, Gordon tried to press himself further into the floor, making Lincoln feel like a heel.
“He’s scared of you,” Brady accused. “Dogs aren’t supposed to be scared of you.”
“He’s ashamed,” Lincoln corrected. “Did you do this?” he asked the dog.
Oh yeah, the dog knew exactly what he’d done and that he was in trouble. But what was Lincoln supposed to do? He knew that prevention was part of training the dog. If he could prevent Gordon from exhibiting the behaviors, he’d eventually tire or grow out of them.
He’d locked the dog in a crate, locked in a laundry room, locked in a basement. How many more ways could he try to contain the thing?
He shook his head, surveying the damage. Everything was replaceable but, come on. How many times could he replace a couch or chair?
He was nearly at the end of his rope.
“You know what I’m going to say, right?”
Yes—he nodded—he did. However, Lincoln didn’t want to hear Brady’s opinion. Every time Gordon’s bad behavior came up, Brady brought up his sister, and Lincoln couldn’t stand the awkwardness it brought into the room. The mere mention of Mercedes Charles was an elephant in any room, so large and cumbersome that no one could look around it.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Brady said.
Lincoln highly doubted Brady had any idea why he was so averse to seeking Mercedes out. The thought of seeing her again, all blond hair and dark eyes, had him sweating in his suit. That was at the mere idea of seeing her after all this time. He couldn’t imagine how he’d react if he actually saw her in person.
“She’s changed, I promise. And she could use the business. She’s really good at what she does.”
“And what’s that, again?”
“She’s a dog trainer.”
“And she’ll train Gordon to do what, exactly?” Lincoln asked skeptically.
“With any luck, she’d help you so he stops eating your furniture.”
“I’m sure there’s someone here in Boston that can help me. You said she’s what, living somewhere out in the sticks? I don’t want to drive all the way out there.”
Brady shrugged. “She’s got a pretty solid reputation out her way as being the best around. Maybe Gordon could use a run in the country.”
Brady crossed his arms and surveyed the damage, and Lincoln followed suit.
Maybe Brady was right, he thought. Gordon had a lot of energy to burn off. What could it hurt to go out and see if Mercedes at least had any tips for him?
As he looked around he noticed a giant pile of poop in the far corner of the living room. Somehow, he couldn’t see Mercedes Charles getting her hands dirty picking up things like that. Changed or not, he was sure she had someone that did those jobs for her.
“Besides, it’s barely even an hour drive. It takes almost that long to get to my parents’ house for dinner some days and we live in the same city.”
“I have a hard time seeing Mercedes as some kind of dog whisperer,” Lincoln admitted.
“She’s not the same person you remember, Linc. She really is different. You should give her a shot. For Gordon’s sake,” he tacked on at the end.
The Mercedes he remembered had been arrogant, just a tad mean, haughty, and the worst kind of rich snob the world hated. Hell, he’d hated her as much, if not more, than he wanted her. And he’d wanted her more back then than he’d wanted his next breath.
“When was the last time you saw her?” Brady asked.
Lincoln’s skin flushed as that particular memory of her slammed into his mind.
Brady didn’t know anything about the night Lincoln had met up with Mercedes in the elevator of her childhood home. He also didn’t know the vision of her that was seared into Lincoln’s memory for all time.
“It’s been a while,” he said vaguely.
“I can give you her address. Tell her you’re coming.”
Lincoln surveyed his once professionally decorated living room and then looked at Brady, thinking that it may not be such a bad idea after all. Certainly, whatever he was doing to train Gordon wasn’t working.
“It would mean a lot to me,” Brady said. One thing Brady Charles wasn’t known for was being humble. If he was sticking his neck out on Mercedes’s behalf, Lincoln knew it was im
portant to him.
Lincoln nodded. “Yeah, send me her contact and I’ll make an appointment with her.”
“I’ll take care of that,” Brady assured him. “I’ll send you the address and you can head out there tomorrow.” He looked around again and laughed. “I’m going to go now. Somehow, I don’t think you’re coming out for drinks with me and Grant.”
Grant was another partner in their investment firm and he was waiting for them at a bar in Cambridge. They had a fourth partner, Dylan James, but he was currently attached at the hip to his girlfriend, Lexi, and no longer joined them for drinks after work.
Secretly, Lincoln was jealous of Dylan. Not because he wanted Lexi Walker for himself, but because he envied the deep attachment they shared. When the two were together, there was a tangible link between them, something that could be seen and felt in the air around them.
Dylan had been the first of the four of them to fall in love so deeply, and it had been shocking to Lincoln that two people could so happily drown themselves in someone else. But Dylan had jumped in head first with Lexi and hadn’t looked back since. He was so sure of what they had together, never once doubting how solid they were.
“Linc?” Brady prompted.
He thought of the job he had ahead of him, cleaning up Gordon’s mess.
“No. I don’t think I’ll be coming out tonight.”
Sadie Charles laughed at Huck, a teacup Chihuahua, as he dipped his toe in a puddle. The poor dog was so used to being inside, he barely knew how to act when let loose. It was probably part of the reason his owners were having such a hard time getting him to go to the bathroom outside.
She watched as he dipped his toe again, then looked at it, as if to say, what’s this wet stuff?
He’d only been in her care a few hours and he was already making good progress—his parents would be pleased when they came to get him. She wiped the sweat off her face with her forearm as she continued to weed her garden.
Huck had run and jumped, exploring the outside as he probably never had before and enjoying himself, playing with Sadie’s dogs Aggie, Cocoa and Lola. They made an interesting foursome, none of them similar in any way, though they got along as if they’d been together since birth.
Aggie, Sadie’s constant companion, laid in the sun next to her, patiently waiting to follow her leader to their next task.
Cocoa, the most rambunctious and adventurous, was far out of sight, most likely exploring the muddy brook in the woods at the end of the field, as was her favorite pastime.
Lola, a beautiful purebred Great Dane sat patiently behind little Huck as he explored. In her former life as a puppy-mill mother, all the puppies Lola birthed had been taken from her. She now seemed to take great pleasure in mothering the young dogs that often surrounded her.
The dogs had all come to Sadie in different ways.
After being released from prison four years ago, Sadie had settled far away from her old life in Boston, opting instead to live in a quiet town where no one knew her at all. Once there, she spent most of her time making the house she’d bought into a home and burying who she used to be so far down that no one would ever find her.
She’d learned in prison that making a home wasn’t about the things you filled your life with. It wasn’t about things at all. Home was a feeling more than anything, and to fill a home, you had to be strong enough to build it from the inside out.
It would never matter anymore if she had fine furniture or a new set of china. What she needed was something to focus on, something to spend her time nurturing, so she’d feel fulfilled.
Sadie had never gone into prison thinking she’d be rehabilitated. In fact, she’d just about given up on herself by the time she’d gotten to the Fuller Women’s Correctional facility. She’d walked through those doors, thinking that she’d bide her time until she was released and then retire somewhere, tail between her legs, hiding from her former life.
She supposed the only real difference from her original thought was that she hadn’t merely bided her time.
Instead, she’d flourished.
Later, she’d come to realize that being in prison put inmates on an even playing field. Her money didn’t matter in prison, her expensive and prestigious education meaningless. Her father’s money and reputation, something she’d always ridden the coattails of, gained her absolutely nothing.
She’d had to learn the ropes, just like everyone else. She’d slowly integrated herself into prison life and had eventually taken advantage of the classes they offered.
One being a class on training and caring for dogs.
But it wasn’t just a class, it was a full-blown program that encouraged inmates to interact with animals on a regular basis. They not only trained dogs, but had the opportunity to care for abused animals and other pets in crisis. It wasn’t life-altering work—she wasn’t changing the world, but she had changed herself. Learning to care for another living thing had uncovered an empathy she never knew she possessed.
That had been the turning point for her.
She’d gone to group therapy and individual therapy. She’d worked hard—something else she’d had no experience in, and it had felt good.
Sadie hated to say it out loud, but prison had been good for her.
She’d gone from being Mercedes Charles, heiress, to Sadie. Just Sadie.
She turned to see Huck, sniffing at the edges of the garden, Lola right on his heels.
Sadie met Lola in that prison program, Lola in need of socialization and light training. They’d bonded immediately. Being so big, finding a home for Lola had been nearly impossible for the shelter, and Sadie could admit she wasn’t unhappy things had turned out the way they had. The shelter, knowing how close she and the dog were, hadn’t hesitated to let Sadie adopt her when she’d been set free.
Even getting out of prison, Sadie was a rich woman. She could provide a safe and stable home, had a steady income and a big trust fund, and cared deeply for Lola. She’d bought a house in the woods of Massachusetts, close enough to her family in Boston that she could visit when she wanted, but far enough away that her old life was nothing more than a distant memory.
Upon her release from prison, she had far more than most of the other women she’d been incarcerated with, even if it was just minimum security. Most of the other women got out and had nothing to fall back on. It was a broken system, most inmates doomed to re-offend due to lack of support.
Aggie lifted her head and looked around.
“What’s up, girlfriend?” Sadie asked. “You want to go for a walk? Find your sister?”
Sadie could put off the never-ending job of weeding for a while. Looking to the edge of her yard, she searched for Cocoa. The nice thing about her property was that it was private and wooded: five acres of gardens, fields, and thick forest. Plenty of room for them all to spread out. The bad part was, Cocoa tended to wander off.
“What do you think, Aggie. You want to run?”
Sadie stood and pulled off her gloves, rubbing the dirt off her knees. When she threw the gloves on the ground, Huck barked and charged one, as if it was a great foe he was fighting off. Not exactly the pampered little dog his parents had dropped off. They’d assured her he hated going outside and only wanted to be carried everywhere.
Lesson One: Never argue with the dog parents.
She was sure when he was at home and being carried everywhere, Huck didn’t like to walk. It was easy and convenient, so he let them carry him. But when she’d set him outside and left him to his own devices, he’d been just as curious as any other dog.
She watched him attack her garden glove with vigor, growling and whipping his tiny head from side to side.
“Impressive,” she said.
Aggie let out another woof, this time going so far as to stand up, facing the driveway. Sadie couldn’t see around to the front of the house, but that bark usually meant someone was pulling up the long driveway. She wasn’t expecting anyone else today but there were a
lways packages and mail being delivered.
She looked to the woods again but didn’t see Cocoa anywhere. With a shrug, she called the other three dogs, patting her leg as she walked away. At their own speeds, they all followed: Aggie right next to her; Lola bringing up the rear with Huck sandwiched in the middle, glove dangling from his mouth.
Walking around the side of the house, Sadie found a sleek, black car parked in her driveway. She’d never seen it before but it reeked of money and testosterone. Her brother, Brady, she assumed. She’d talked to him the day before and he hadn’t said anything about coming out to visit, but he’d taken it upon himself to stop by once in a while.
She and Aggie walked closer to the car, both stopping short at the muffled bark that sounded from inside. Sadie leaned down to look in the driver’s window, trying to see just what her brother was up to in there.
Her face fell when she saw Lincoln Greene in the driver’s seat.
Lincoln, her brother’s oldest friend and business partner, was pressed into the seat, a giant gray dog happily standing over him, trapping him in the seat.
“Aggie, sit.”
When the dog obeyed, she instructed her to stay and walked to the driver’s door. She leaned down, eye to eye with Lincoln and the dog.
“How’s it going?” she asked, straight-faced.
The dog wiggled uncontrollably at the sound of her voice, his big body hitting Lincoln in the face repeatedly.
It had been a long time since she’d seen Lincoln Greene. If she remembered correctly, and she knew she did, she’d been twenty and God, so desperate to impress him. She’d wanted him to want her.
Her cheeks heated at the memory of how brazen she’d been.
No Love Left Behind (Boston Billionaire's Club Book 1) Page 1
