Harbour (Runaway Home #1)

by Penelope Louleas

  I'm already sick of her. I interrupt Lincoln before he replies.

  "I apologize, I was under the impression this was a business meeting." I pause and look over at Lincoln who winces slightly. "If I had known it was just the two of you I would've declined the invitation, but don't mind me, I'm just here for the free food."

  Lincoln looks down and bites his lip in an attempt to hide his smirk. Savannah glares at me and looks like she wants to slap me to next Tuesday "Of course you are." she mumbles.

  Our drinks arrive and the waiter asks for our lunch orders. I order a Brooklyn beef burger that sounds fancy but delicious, and of course, Savannah snickers and orders her salad with dressing on the side. Lincoln looks at me, and smiles. "I’ll have the burger also. It sounds good."

  The waiter leaves us and an awkward silence engulfs the table. My initial reaction is to tell a lame joke, but I know that won’t impress Savannah.

  "So, Lincoln, how was your vacation? I heard you were on your family’s private island in the Caribbean? I tried to contact you because I was in desperate need to get away, but you were completely unreachable." She sighs dramatically, and I wonder which poor bastard was stuck with the job of trying to track down someone who clearly didn’t want to be found. Poor guy is probably in the line at the unemployment office because he didn’t succeed in his mission. "Yes, well, I needed some time to myself to reassess things, and move on. You know how it is." Lincoln is uncomfortable with the conversation. He shifts in his chair and takes a few too many slow drinks from his glass of water.

  I try to lighten the mood. "I’ve never been to the Caribbean. I hear it’s lovely, though."

  Again Savannah practically snorts. "Well, Dianne Island is privately owned, so of course you’ve never been there." She looks up at Lincoln with a dreamy look in her eyes. "It’s simply divine. Laying out in the sun, drinking cocktails, and being able to misbehave and not worry about the neighbors." She winks at Lincoln and I roll my eyes. Obviously she’s been to the island and has done a bit of misbehaving of her own. I hope she burnt her nipples while topless sunbathing.

  Lincoln clears his throat and shifts slightly away from Savannah's grabby hands. "Actually, I was only on the island for a week, and then I flew to Bermuda to work on some homes with Habitat for Humanity."

  "Wow! That’s fantastic. That must've been amazing to help people in need like that." I was so worked up by Lincoln's sudden revelation that I didn’t realize I was talking like an excited child all high pitched and fast. "You’re telling me you've been away two months and you only spent one week on the island? Did you hit your head on some coral? That’s crazy!"

  Is this chick for real? I try to ignore her insensitive remark and decide to give my last two cents to the conversation. "Well, I think it’s a wonderful, selfless act, and you should be proud of yourself."

  The table goes quiet again. Thankfully the waiter brings our meals, halting any response from Savannah. Lincoln looks down at his plate and gives me a challenging look, as if to say "You won’t finish this." I inspect the larger than life burger and my mouth waters. The lightly colored brioche bun is encasing a large Wagyu beef patty, crispy bacon, tomato, lettuce, and a special sauce that this restaurant is well known for. The chips are thickly cut and come with a side of garlic aioli dipping sauce. I can feel my ass widen just at the sight of this but it will be worth it. I normally have a huge appetite, but sitting opposite the sex god and his perfect, bitchy friend and her tiny dressing-free salad, my appetite is somewhat waning.

  Our meal conversation is all about Savannah trying to get Lincoln to open up about his vacation, or working-vacation, as it now stands, and I slowly zone out and daydream. My head is full of images of Lincoln on a roof without a shirt on, hammering nails, his perfect chest covered in a sheen of sweat as the hot, afternoon sun is beating down on him. I begin to blush and shake my head as if to rid it of my inappropriate thoughts.

  I’m instantly brought back by Savannah’s annoying laugh. "I’m sure you got to know plenty of the local ladies. They must've been sad to see you go? Hell, if I had my fiancé leave me for someone else I would’ve spent the whole time 'trying to forget,' if you know what I mean."

  She winks at Lincoln, and he gives me an uncomfortable look. Shit. That’s why he’s been away. He had his heart broken by a she-devil who is obviously blind and stupid. To avoid hearing any more than I'd like, or seeing the defeated expression on Lincoln face, I stand and excuse myself, and head to the ladies room.

  Whilst in there, I think about the timing of everything. I met him on New Year's Eve, and its March now, so he must've left just after we met. That means he had just broken up with his fiancée. I was a rebound kiss. Jeez, I'm glad we haven't mentioned it. I feel dirty thinking he used me. Actually, who am I kidding? He can use me anytime of the day.

  After using the facilities, I head over to the sink to wash my hands. Just as I finish up, Savannah walks in and stands next to me, reapplying her bright red lipstick.

  "Stay away from Lincoln."

  I want to laugh in her face, but instead I keep calm and look her in the eye through the mirror. "That’s impossible, seeing as I'm pretty much his assistant."

  "You know what I mean, smart ass! With Rachael breaking off the engagement I finally get my chance, and I won’t let some boring munchkin from the land of Oz slip in and take him from me."

  She’s now facing me, towering over me. I’d really love to push her pretty head into the mirror for the "land of Oz" comment, but instead I stay calm and give her the response she wants. "I don't want Lincoln like you think I do, and I’m sure my feelings are reciprocated, so you have nothing to worry about. I would although be careful with your Oz references, because I do remember a house landing on the wicked witch, and her shoes were just like yours."

  I walk out of the ladies room, leaving a stunned Savannah behind. What a bitch! If Lincoln can even be friends with a woman like that, then we definitely have nothing in common.

  As I approach the table, Lincoln is signing the bill and he stands so we can leave. Savannah is ten seconds behind me.

  "We should head back." he says, and I can see he regrets bringing me to this "business lunch." Hell, I regret it. There was a line crossed today and I'm sure he didn't want his dirty laundry aired in front of an employee.

  "Lincoln we have to catch up for drinks one night. Maybe you can come over and check out my new apartment; the view is spectacular." She’s holding onto his biceps with her red nails and batting her long, fake lashes.

  "Yeah, maybe..." he replies in a tone that would make any normal woman realize he’s just not that into her.

  Clearly, Savannah won’t give up. She pulls him in for a hug and kisses his cheek very close to his mouth.

  "Oops, I got some lipstick on you." She does that annoying giggle and I'm done.

  "Pleasure as always, Savannah." I say as I turn on my heels and head out the door to give them a moment.

  Lincoln is right behind me, grabbing his keys from the valet. I notice Lincoln's car already parked at the front, ready to go. Again, he opens my door and I slide in, waiting for the awkward fifteen-minute trip back to the office.

  Chapter Eight

  We sit in complete silence for the drive back. Lincoln is gripping the wheel and gear stick so tightly that his knuckles are white. I want to say something to break the tension but I don't know if a “thanks for lunch” will suffice.

  Lincoln pulls into his car space, turns off the ignition and turns in his seat. I reach to open the door but his words stop me.

  "Wait, please. I need to apologize for bringing you today." I take my hand off the door handle and turn slightly towards him; he looks completely exhausted, as if he's run a marathon. He runs his hand through his gorgeous mane of brown hair and lets out a huge sigh.

  "You don't have to apologize, it’s fine. Just next time, maybe leave me and my bare feet in the office." I laugh, and hope he relaxes with my joke.

  He looks at me;
his expression is serious, and he looks ready to confess to a murder. "No, it’s not fine. I invited you in the hopes that Savannah would keep the conversation light and not bring up my damn ex, but it obviously didn't work. I’m sorry you had to hear that. I understand if it made you uncomfortable, me being your boss and all. Not to mention our New Year's Eve encounter. I promise you, I won’t do that to you again."

  Do what? Take me to lunch with Savannah or kiss me? I hope it's not the latter.

  Lincoln opens his door walks around to help me out. I refuse his hand this time, and once we're in the lift I speak without looking at him. "If it’s any consolation, I'm glad I came and learnt about your charity work. I really do think it’s a big deal to dedicate so much time to helping those in need, especially when you have a company to run." I pause and take a deep breath, studying my shoes to avoid eye contact. "And about the other things, I don't regret the way we brought in the New Year, and I think your ex is an idiot."

  With that, the doors slide open, and without a backwards glance I head to my desk.

  I begin my now daily mental chastisement for the ex-comment. Really, I need to learn to just shut my mouth. Lincoln walks past my desk and slams his door. Yep, definitely need to learn to shut my mouth.

  ****

  The next few days are busy. Lincoln is in meetings nearly all day, every day, and he leaves after me every night. Our interactions have been purely professional and I've succeeded at not putting my foot in my mouth.

  I look out of the window behind my desk and see the rain falling on the streets below. Its lunchtime, but I'm not very eager to go out into that.

  My reverie is suddenly interrupted by Lincoln's voice over the intercom. "Harbour, can I see you in my office please?"

  I walk from the window, grab my iPad and head to his office. Lincoln is on his cell phone with his back to me when I enter. I take the opportunity to look around. I’ve been in here a few times, but I’ve never had the chance to sit and actually admire the room. It’s big, huge, in fact, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. Lincoln's desk looks presidential. It’s a beautiful dark wood, with intricate carvings on the front panel. It’s much bigger than necessary, because even with his four computer monitors there is still ample space. When his dad retired, all of the office furniture was removed and replaced. I wonder if this desk is from Lincoln’s previous office. I try really hard not to think about the naughty things that might have happened on it but I just can’t help myself. Did he do it like in the movies, grabbing his fiancée or some other lucky lady, swiping all the items from the desk then lowering her onto it, and having his way with her? Wow, if this desk could talk I’d buy myself some tequila and listen to it all night. The tequila is purely to help keep my jealousy at bay. Jealousy is definitely a feeling I need to get over.

  After our lunch with Savannah last week, I relapsed. I Googled Lincoln and his ex-fiancé. I regret it. She’s stunning, a tall, thin brunette with piercing green eyes. Rachael Deveraux is a part time model and a well-known socialite in New York. She comes from money, and has only ever been linked with men who are somewhat important and fit into her social life. There were pages dedicated to the golden couple, and even more regarding their break up. I learnt they were together for just over a year and Lincoln proposed with an obscenely large diamond on their one-year anniversary. The proposal was caught on camera, of course. This couple seemed like publicity whores.

  What shocked me most was Rachael's lack of respect or decency, because one week after their break up Rachael is pictured holding hands and kissing her new man. He, too, is a model, gorgeous, of course. His chocolate skin complements her porcelain beauty. Apparently they met on a shoot in Paris six months prior to the break up. I assumed this black Adonis was the "other man."

  As interesting as my research was, I felt dirty afterwards. And slightly drunk. I’d managed to consume a whole bottle of sweet wine while getting my Google on. It felt wrong; I felt like I was spying on Lincoln. The night ended with some drunken, lonely karaoke and angry neighbors banging on my paper thin walls to shut up. The next morning, my head had been sore and full of regret. If he’d wanted me to know, he would've told me himself. I promised myself that I would no longer Google search my boss, or anyone else for that matter. I was back on my Google diet.

  Lincoln finally ends his call and comes over to his desk. Instead of sitting behind it he comes to stand in front of me, leaning on his desk with his arms folded and ankles crossed. He looks very serious, but damn sexy with his messy, disheveled hair and loosened tie. His forearms are exposed because he has rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Even his arms are sexy. I quickly look up and try to disguise my blatant attraction to him. I can tell by the smirk that I have yet again been caught checking him out. I’m frustrated with myself, but instead of getting embarrassed I take a deep breath and ask what he needs.

  He runs his hand through his hair and begins to explain. "I have some urgent work that needs to be completed, and I need your assistance. I’d ask Vivian but this will involve staying late the rest of the week, and she looks after her granddaughters on weeknights. I’m sorry to do this to you but in return, I will give you next Monday and Tuesday off." As appealing as two days off work sounds, I have no life as it is. I spend my weekends eating and drinking alone and since my relapse, stalking—I mean, researching—people on the Internet. I’ve made friends with the young group of people I met at the ball, but they obviously work, so hanging out on a weekday wouldn't be possible.

  "Thank you for the offer of the two days off, but I'm happy to work back without them."

  "Well then, I’ll pay you for your time. We'll begin at five p.m. tonight. Meet me back in here. Thank you, Harbour."

  I’m being excused, so I stand to leave. “Would you like me to get you something for lunch sir?”. He pauses for a moment but declines, so I head out to my desk and grab my purse. As I make my way to my favorite cafe across the street, I spot Savannah walking with Nobu lunch packs. I guess he didn't need lunch because it’s already being supplied. I beat down the jealousy burning inside me and decide to spend my entire allocated hour in the cafe. I grab my phone out of my bag and, whilst eating my Panini, I check my Facebook. Maybe news from my friends in Australia can cheer me up.

  One hour later, I feel worse than I did when I spotted Savannah. My friends have posted photos of their summer getaways, sitting by beaches, all tanned and smiling. I resist the urge to buy a chocolate muffin and make my way back to the office. Hopefully the Wicked Witch of the East Side is gone.

  As I enter the office I overhear a conversation between Lincoln and Savannah.

  "Come on, Lincoln, it’s been almost three months. It’s time to move on. There are plenty of fish in the sea. I'm happy to help take your mind off things if you’d like, let’s say, a temporary friends-with-benefits arrangement."

  "Temporary?"

  Oh my God, is he considering her offer?

  "Yes, temporary, as in once you've had me you'll want to make it more permanent, or at least official." My stomach rolls. I don't want to hear the end of this conversation so I head to the office kitchen and make myself a coffee.

  Simon from accounts is in the kitchen, sitting on one of the chairs with his arms folded looking deep in thought. Why can't this guy make my heart race? A normal guy with a normal job, who is not my boss? "Coffee, Simon?"

  "Huh, um, no thanks." I nod and make my coffee; I’m not really in the mood for small talk. "How have you been Harbour? I haven't seen you around much lately. Whitmore working you to the bone?" He chuckles, but I can tell it’s forced.

  "Yeah, we've been pretty busy. Mr Whitmore has a bit of catching up to do which is expected when you become CEO of a company I guess. What’s up with you? You seem a bit distracted?"

  Simon sighs heavily, and runs his hand through his short, blond hair. "Yeah, I need to get out and let loose I think. Wanna go for a drink after work?" If I wasn't working back I would definitely take him up o
n his offer. I could use a distraction.

  "Sorry, the boss has me staying back all week, and I don’t know what time I’ll be out. Rain check?"

  "I'll hold you to that. Don't let him ride you too hard." He smiles and walks out; thank God, because his choice of wording makes me blush profusely. If only he knew that’s exactly what I’d like Lincoln to do.

  I shake my head and go back out with my coffee, hoping Savannah is gone. As I approach my desk, she leaves Lincoln's office with a smug look on her face. I roll my eyes and get back to work, not wanting to think about Savannah or Lincoln or what possibly just happened on that damned desk.

  ****

  Five p.m. approaches quickly and I make my way to Lincoln's office and I feel a little more nervous than I should. My heart beat accelerates and I can see the coffee in my mug rippling from my shaking hands. Jesus Har, Relax! I take a deep breath and knock, so as not to interrupt anything, and enter. Lincoln is sitting in his high-backed leather chair, removing his tie. He looks exhausted. His hair is messy and sticking up in all directions. I calm down a bit at the sight, he looks normal. It’s strange but he doesn’t look as intimidating with messy hair and his tie removed.

  "Would you like me to get you a coffee before we begin?"

  He shakes his head, and I sit as he explains what we're required to complete over the week. Thankfully, it's a lot of work, so there will be no time for chitchat. He requests that I work in his office, as the accounts we are working on are confidential. I can do this. I can be professional, and not be distracted by his amazing man-scent or gorgeous sea-blue eyes.

  After an hour of working closely, it doesn’t get much easier. Lincoln is constantly looking over my shoulder and getting very close: so close that I can not only smell him, but his breath tickles my ear. At one stage I discreetly smelled my hair, because I noticed him inhale deeply when he was leaning over me. It still smells like my cheap strawberry shampoo; maybe he’s allergic or something.

  At seven p.m., Lincoln orders us dinner. We get a huge cheese pizza to share. I take my slice and sit on the floor next to his desk.