The other half of the shop currently housed a bunch of old farm equipment that would be auctioned off in another month, now that probate was completed on the former owner’s estate. It’d been an easy five hundred a month in storage fees for him to bank just housing the equipment for a friend.
He’d deposited that money into savings every month to put toward the future renovation.
Before all this happened, he was happy just to be paying the bills, paying his employees, and still making enough to not only pay himself but also put a little bit into his savings every month.
I wonder if this would be enough to—
No.
He wasn’t going to emotionally scourge himself today. He’d actually done a pretty good job of not thinking about Him for a few days.
Still, there were days, like today, where Linc wanted to call Him up and ask Him if he was good enough to introduce him to His father now?
Or if He was still deep in the closet and denying the truth?
Or if putting Lincoln through the hell and heartache was worth it, in the end, and that He’d gone on to find happiness?
He hoped it had and was. Because Linc didn’t want to think that maybe he’d suffered all these years for nothing.
Because if he had?
Well, what a fucking waste, then.
Chapter Two
“It’s Friday morning. So, what are we doing this weekend?”
Brett didn’t look up from his computer, because he knew what he’d see—Jaylynn draped over the sofa in his office and giving him what he knew she considered her sexy pout.
He really didn’t fucking care.
“I don’t know yet, Jay. I told you that the past five times you’ve asked me this morning, and my answer hasn’t changed.” He scratched at his chin, at the goatee he’d grown out, along with a mustache—mostly to piss her off, because she’d indicated she hated the way it looked on him.
Hey, whatever advantage he could take, he’d take it.
Out of the corner of his eye, he was aware of her sitting up and saw that she now wore her dark scowl, the one that meant she was a few breaths from heading upstairs to whine to her father—and his—about him. “Well, you don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
Heavily sighing and not giving a shit if she heard him do it or not, he finally looked up at her.
Yep, those dark green eyes of hers, which were actually a muddy hazel when she didn’t have her colored contacts in, were trying to drill a hole through his balls.
“I’m not being a bitch. I’ve got a lot of work to do, Jay. I told you that. I don’t understand what you don’t understand. I don’t get to fuck around just because Dad’s the head of the company. I pull my weight. I thought you were assigned a new client this morning? Shouldn’t you be dealing with them?”
She wrinkled her nose at him and sniffed derisively. “I’ve got Adam working on it. I’m not a workaholic. Unlike some people, I know how to delegate. I don’t need to micro-manage my people the way you do.”
One of the bigger issues he had with her was her nonchalance when it came to work. Then again, she was spoiled rotten by her father—Brett’s father’s partner—and Brett had a strong work ethic drilled into him ever since he was a kid.
“I don’t micro-manage. I take pride in my work.”
“And you’re saying I don’t?”
“I’m not going to fight with you, Jay.” He refocused on his laptop, where he was pouring through Facebook ad metrics for one of his biggest clients.
“I don’t want to fight. I want to know why I feel like you’re ignoring me.”
“I’m not ignoring you. But I don’t have any plans for the weekend except to get caught up with work.”
She sniffed, the way she always did when she was trying to work on building up a good huff. “Well then, maybe I should make plans without you.”
“Do whatever you want to do this weekend.”
She stood, and he felt a second of relief…
Until she walked over to his desk and planted her hands on it, leaning in and towering over him and forcing him to look up at her.
“What’s going on with us, Brett?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You haven’t slept with me in nearly a month. I can barely get you to spend time with me. And you refuse to shave off that stupid fucking goatee that I hate. Are you fucking around on me?”
He sat back in his chair. “I am, as you said, Jay, a workaholic. I don’t appreciate you accusing me of cheating.” Blessed hope coursed through his veins. “If you don’t trust me, then let’s just end this right now and save us both a hassle, all right? I’m tired of justifying myself to you every time you become insecure because I’m actually doing my job.”
Her eyes widened as she drew back. “I-I didn’t mean I want to break up!”
His hope wilted. Fuck. There went his best chance to dump her without theatrics on her part. “Then understand that I’m not going to get any better at this.” He waved his hand, indicating the two of them. “If you don’t like me the way I am, now, I guarantee you won’t like me five or ten years from now. Seriously. We’ve had this conversation before. I’m not getting married, I don’t want kids, and I’m a workaholic.”
They’d actually had this same conversation countless times before in the two years they’d been “dating,” but Jaylynn was pretty big on the “convenient memory” thing.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Mom keeps asking when we’re getting married.”
“Told you, I’m not getting married.” He sat up and refocused on his laptop. “Not happening. Again, that’s another point that you need to decide if you can live with. I’ve never lied to you about that.”
“What’s wrong with getting married?”
“You mean besides losing your ass in a divorce? Nothing, I suppose, if a person wants to do it. I don’t.”
“Why won’t you even let me keep a few changes of clothes at your place?”
He slapped his laptop closed harder than he meant to, making her jump. “Stop. Now.” Normally, he didn’t go Dom on her, because she wasn’t the slightest bit kinky. She made vanilla look like dark chocolate. “I think, in fact, this is a good time for us to end things, while we’re still able to be civil to each other and act professional around each other at work.”
Shit. Now her eyes widened again, tears imminent. “What’s so horrible about me you can’t open up to me? I’ve spent the past two years with you!”
Not this time.
He was done coddling her.
“One more time for the crowd in back—I was perfectly clear when we started dating that I’m never getting married, I do not want children, and I have no desire to have someone move in with me. I told you if that was your ultimate goal that it was a deal-breaker for me, and to move on to someone else.”
“That’s not normal! You won’t even take a key to my place, or give me one to yours!”
He stood. “It’s who I am, and—” He was interrupted by a knock on his office door, which started to open. He was about to yell at whoever it was when he realized it was his father.
“Hey—oh. Sorry, Jaylynn. Listen, I need to talk to Brett for a minute.”
She started to flounce. “That’s all right. We can finish this later.”
“No, we can’t,” Brett said. “I mean it, Jay. We’re done. As Dad is my witness, I am breaking up with you. Now.”
His dad pulled up short as Jaylynn turned on Brett. “We’ll discuss this later,” she insisted.
“There isn’t a later. I am breaking up with you. Period.” And this was exactly why he didn’t want to have her bring so much as a goddamned toothbrush over to his place.
She stormed out of his office, and the only reason she didn’t slam the door behind her was the pneumatic arm closer.
His dad watched her leave, frowning as he turned back to Brett. “What’s going on?”
“Something I should have done a long t
ime ago.”
“Why won’t you get more serious with her?”
Brett ran his hands through his hair and sat again, hoping he could get rid of his father fast. “What did you want, Dad?”
“No, I want to talk about this.” He sat in one of the chairs in front of Brett’s desk, making Brett silently groan. It didn’t matter that Brett was now thirty-three—Darren Tillman still intimidated him, and not just because he was six-five and Brett was only five-eleven.
But because he was Darren Tillman, a take-no-prisoners kind of guy, and who’d spent all of Brett’s life drilling into him how he expected Brett to take after him.
Especially after Brett’s mom died, which had of course hit both of them hard, but seemed to…kill something inside his father. What softer edges there had been to his personality vanished as he buried himself in work.
“I’m not discussing my love life with you, Dad.”
“You don’t discuss anything with me that doesn’t involve work, Son. Besides, you just used me as a witness to break up with her, so I think you at least owe me an explanation.”
“This has been a long time coming, believe me. Please tell me what you came in here for, or let me get back to work.”
His father slowly shook his head at him. “You need to pack. Formal. You’re heading to Miami. There’s a gO! Network VIP cocktail party tomorrow night. You’re being assigned as head of promotions to one of their new shows, to run all their campaigns and come up with the branding, titles, logos, all of that. The people the show will follow have their own social media person, but you’re going to coordinate everything else for the network.”
At least Miami wasn’t anywhere near Sarasota. That was somewhere he hadn’t returned to in…years. Not since he left for Harvard Business School—at his father’s insistence—after graduating from USF.
His father had actually moved up to the DC area after Brett turned eighteen and could live alone in the Sarasota house while going to USF. His father had moved his offices to the DC area, where he formed a partnership with Jaylynn’s father, an old college buddy of his.
But once Brett had left for grad school, his father had sold the house in Sarasota, and Brett hadn’t returned.
There were too many sad memories in Sarasota.
His mom’s death, for starters. And then…
Brett swallowed hard. “Me? Why me?”
“Ed’s wife went into labor this morning.”
“She’s not due until next month.”
“Exactly. And they have three little kids at home. It’s now your account. When I talked to Ryan Ausar a little bit ago and told him we’d be shuffling personnel, he personally requested I assign you when he found out you were available.”
Brett digested that. “I didn’t know the guy even knew who I was.” Their company did a lot of work for the network, but usually Brett handled other companies with more traditional branding needs.
“He remembers the campaign you helped come up with for that ghost hunting show of theirs.”
That news shifted Brett’s brain into a totally new gear. “Wow. Okay. Sure. I can do that. I’ll need to hand off a few projects.”
“I know. That’s why I’m telling you now. You fly out at seven tonight. We’ve already changed the airline reservation and hotel booking. The party’s at the same hotel. Have you flying home on Monday morning, and you’ll have a week or so to hand stuff off on this end before you fly out again to work with the company in person. They start filming in four weeks, but they have a product reveal they’re doing in the next couple of weeks. Ausar wants you involved in the process from the start.”
“How soon can Ed hand everything off to me?”
“There’s nothing to hand off, just the preliminary info packet the network sent him. I’m not calling him and bugging him for that right now. He’s got enough on his plate. Ausar said they’ll get you the info by tomorrow afternoon, so you’ll have time to review it before the party tomorrow night. You’ll also have a packet awaiting you when you check in at the hotel. It’ll contain all the info and credentials for the party.”
“Okay. Cool. I’ll get busy, then.”
But Brett knew his dad wasn’t finished. He continued to stare at him for a long moment. “Pete and I keep hoping you’ll marry her. I could have travel buy her a ticket, too. Maybe take her with you and maybe see if you guys can work things out? I’m sure Ausar would include a plus-one for you.”
Brett glared at him.
His dad held his hands up in front of him. “Okay, okay, sheesh. Forgive me for wanting you to have an actual goddamned life outside of this fucking office.”
“You spent my entire life telling me how you wanted me to take over for you when you retire. Congratulations—I’m working my ass off so I can do just that. Are we done here?”
His dad settled in the chair. “I think breaking up with her when you have two years invested in her is sort of…rash, huh?”
“Dad, I’m not into her.”
His dad stared at him for a long moment. “Well, please tell me you haven’t been cheating on her, because—”
“No! The only reason I started dating her in the first place is because you and Pete wouldn’t leave me the hell alone about it. And the only reason I haven’t broken up with her before now is because she opens the floodgates and makes me feel guilty every time I’ve tried to break up with her in the past. I’ve never lied to her that I have no interest in a family or marriage. If she’s chosen to delude herself into thinking she can change me or how I feel, that’s all on her, not me.
“Besides, you and I both know the only reason she still has a job here is because of Pete being her dad. You and I both would’ve fired her a couple of months after she started, otherwise. But Pete’s your buddy, so it really doesn’t matter what the hell I say, does it?”
“Wow.” His dad slowly shook his head at him. “Well, forgive me for thinking a nice, beautiful girl like her would be great for you. Have a couple of kids. Create a lasting legacy for our family.”
Brett’s jaw nearly dropped as he processed that statement. Where was the bastard taskmaster who’d ridden his ass through high school and college to get the highest grades possible, then rode him like a rented pack mule when he’d first started working there—low rung on the ladder, thank you very much—while forcing him to earn every fucking promotion he’d ever received?
“I don’t understand why everyone can’t respect my decisions, here,” Brett finally said. “Why is it when people tease me about getting married and starting a family that they can’t believe me when I say that’s not what I want? I like knowing I can go home to an empty apartment and relax. I like being alone! I like not having to clean up a hurricane after a family comes home from school. I don’t feel a need to have kids simply to fulfill some biological mandate. My ideal relationship is someone with their own place, close to me, maybe in the same building, but who treasures their space and privacy as much as I treasure mine.”
Or, barring that, someone who has a penis.
But he didn’t say that last part aloud.
He didn’t dare.
Because if he did, he’d have to admit what a liar he was.
Admit how lonely he was.
How he’d love to have the right person to share his life and space with.
But that they’d have to be a guy.
And that, over ten years later, he was still nursing a broken heart for a man who probably hated his guts now, and rightfully so.
Besides that, his dad would immediately disown him, and his father was the only family he had left.
“Fine, fine.” His dad stood. “Call Ellen, and she’ll give you the travel details, if they’re not in your e-mail already. We booked a car service for the trip from the airport and back.”
“Thank you.” Brett was already dropping back into work mode when he realized his father wasn’t leaving. “What, Dad?”
“I feel guilty, Brett,” he softly said.
“Because I feel like I set a bad example for you. After your mom died, I buried myself in work because I hurt. You don’t need to escape reality the way I did, Son. I know I was hard on you, but you’ve hit the cruise-control point in your career now. Don’t let life pass you by just because I didn’t know how to properly work through my grief.” He finally let himself out of the office.
Brett leaned back again and rubbed at his eyes.
No, Dad, you set a fantastic example. That’s exactly how I’m dealing with my grief.
Chapter Three
Avery let out a low whistle as Lincoln turned from the mirrors. He’d insisted on her coming with him to the formal wear shop to give her final approval.
Not that there’d be much time to do anything about it if it wasn’t right, with the damn party being tomorrow night.
“Is that good?” he asked.
She already had her phone out and was snapping pics of him. “Damn right it’s good, buddy. Wait until Opal gets these posted. Turn around.”
He did, pausing as he looked in the mirrors. “I feel ridiculous in this thing.”
“Keep turning.”
He finally did, ending up facing her again. “Do I pass inspection? I hope?”
The clerk was the same woman who’d taken his measurements. She smiled. “You have an excellent eye for style, Avery. You picked the perfect cut for him.”
Avery lowered her phone. “He’s got those gorgeously broad shoulders, and that sinfully tight ass.”
Linc glared at Avery. “I’m standing right here.”
“Yes, he does,” the clerk said. “I had to double-check my measurements when I took them, and again when I put the order in. We had the pants to fit him, but I needed to order a jacket.”
“Can you get me a price on buying it outright for him?”
He planted his hands on his hips. “Again, I’m standing right here.”
“Don’t scowl, honey,” Avery playfully chided. “You’ll give yourself lines.”
He rolled his eyes and turned back to the mirrors as he fussed with the bowtie. “I hope I can remember how to tie this damn thing.”
Real or Not Page 2
