Sin

by Deborah Bladon

  “Mine too,” Trent adds.

  I smile. “I hope that you’ll see the value in what I’m about to suggest.”

  Mitchell clears his throat but doesn’t say a word. Both West and Trent look in his direction, but I keep my eyes trained on the notes I wrote down before the meeting.

  “To further the reach of the Rizon brand, it’s essential to create a buzz that can’t be ignored.” I move to stand. “Getting the Rizon logo and product in front of as many people as possible is our ultimate goal.”

  West nods. “I can’t argue with that.”

  “Your financial investment in my new idea will be substantial, but you’ll be rewarded ten-fold.” I finger the edge of the sheet. “I present to you, The Fire Tour by Asher Foster, sponsored by Rizon Vanilla Vodka.”

  I tug on the edge of the sheet to reveal the poster board. It’s a mock-up I had made of a promotional poster that will be used to market Asher Foster’s next tour.

  The man is a worldwide rock star who is set to launch his North American tour two months from now. The Rizon logo is prominently displayed on the poster, along with a banner at the bottom that states that Rizon is the official vodka of the tour.

  “Asher Foster?” West is on his feet. “Is this an idea, Linny, or are we talking negotiations are pending and this is a potential reality?”

  I drop the sheet on the floor. “I’ve spoken to Asher myself. He’s on board. He’s working out the details with his management team and the touring company, but it’s as good as done, provided you can come to an agreement on terms.”

  West moves toward me but stops himself before he rounds the conference table. “Holy fuck. This is incredible.”

  Trent stands, his gaze locked on the poster board. “I’m in awe. I don’t know what to say.”

  I feel a rush of pride. I wish my dad were here to see this, but he’ll hear about it. Not only from Mitchell, but I’m confident West and Trent will sing my praises to him.

  Mitchell clears his throat again, this time rising to his feet. He wobbles in place. “Linny?”

  I look over at him. My stomach drops at the sight of the smirk on his face.

  He taps his finger against his forehead. “I just remembered something.”

  Whatever it is, it can’t be related to my presentation. “Mitchell, why don’t you head to your office? I’ll text Hal to get you some coffee.”

  He waves his hand in the air as if he’s swatting my words away. “Didn’t you meet your husband at an Asher Foster concert in Las Vegas? That’s where you met Corbin, right?”

  I stare at him in disbelief. He doesn’t know about Corbin. The only person who does is my dad.

  “Wait. That’s wrong. It wasn’t an Asher Foster concert. It was definitely a rock concert though.” His words are slow and slurred.

  I open my mouth to say something, but I’m at a loss.

  “That was the night you eloped, right?” He rubs his bloodshot eyes. “You two hooked up after the concert and then made it official in one of those little wedding chapels on the strip.”

  My gaze shoots to Jeremy, but his face is impassive. I can’t read anything in his expression.

  “Mitchell,” I manage to get his name out, but can’t form another word.

  “This is why our dad won’t let her go back to Vegas.” Mitchell laughs, his hand resting on his stomach. “She loses control if she drinks too much and he has to clean up her mess. You need to keep the vodka as far away from her as you can.”

  I grip the side of the table for support as I watch Jeremy walk out of the room.

  “She loses control if she drinks too much?” Trent looks at Mitchell. “You’re as drunk as the day is long, bud.”

  Mitchell drops back into his chair.

  Trent turns to me. “Don’t let him bother you. The only thing Jeremy and I care about is the presentation and you killed that. I’ll reach out tomorrow to get all the details.”

  I look up and into his face.

  “You surprised the hell out of us both today.” He smiles at me. “You should be proud of yourself.”

  I don’t feel anything but loss. The man I’m falling in love with just walked out of this room and I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.

  Chapter 45

  Linny

  I stare down at the phone in my shaking hands.

  I can’t text Jeremy to explain any of this. Calling him doesn’t feel right either.

  This is a conversation that I need to have with him face-to-face.

  I left Mitchell alone in the conference room. I didn’t have anything to say to him. He had said it all in front of West.

  I drop into my office chair and scroll through the contact list in my phone until I spot his name.

  Dad.

  The man who promised that he’d never tell a soul that I married a man I didn’t know.

  He was the only person I called back then when I realized what I’d done. He was on the next plane to Las Vegas with a recommendation from his lawyer for a divorce attorney in Nevada.

  He took care of all of the paperwork. He handled every discussion with Corbin Burnell, the man I exchanged vows with.

  It was my dad who swore on his life that he wouldn’t even tell my mother.

  Yet, Mitchell knows.

  A knock on my open office door draws my attention back up.

  It’s a man. He’s vaguely familiar to me.

  He’s tall with broad shoulders, dark hair and blue eyes. He’s dressed casually in jeans and a dark blue V-neck sweater.

  “Can I help you?” I try to look past him to where my assistant should be, but I don’t see anyone.

  “You’re Lincoln Faye, right?” His hand is outstretched as he approaches me.

  It takes every ounce of energy I have to push to my feet. “Yes, I’m Linny.”

  “Linny,” he repeats my name back as he takes my hand. “I’m Rocco Jones. Jeremy Weston and I are business partners. We’re friends. He’s told me a lot about you.”

  I study his face, taking in his strong jawline. I saw him at Nova with West. It was the evening I was there having dinner with Roland.

  West was so close to me that night and I didn’t know it.

  Now, it feels like he’s a million miles away.

  “Jeremy told me about the great job you’ve done on the Rizon campaign.” He studies me. “I’d like to discuss the possibility of us working together.”

  I should be overjoyed, but work is the last thing on my mind.

  “I had a meeting two blocks from here, so I dropped in to see if you had a few minutes now to talk,” he goes on, “I know it’s presumptuous, but I thought it was worth a shot.”

  I rub my forehead. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones.”

  “Rocco,” he corrects quickly. “It’s Rocco.”

  He tugs his phone out of his pocket when it chimes, scanning the screen. “It’s Jeremy.”

  My heart skips a beat.

  “Is he alright?” I ask in a breathless whisper, my voice cracking.

  His gaze wanders from his phone to my face. “He needs to see me. He says it’s urgent.”

  I swallow back a sob.

  His features soften. “You’re her, aren’t you?”

  A tear streams down my face. “Who?”

  “You’re the woman he met.” The corners of his lips lift into a smile. “You’re the woman who put that smile on his face and that hope in his eyes.”

  I nod. Fear rushes through me that West has lost hope in us since he heard Mitchell talk about my mistake in Vegas.

  “I’m going to meet him now.” He shoves his phone back into his pocket. “I don’t know what he’s told you about his life, but Jeremy’s a fighter. He’s battled some shit that no one should have to and he’s always come out on top. If he’s as crazy about you as I think he is, whatever is going on between you two isn’t going to get in his way.”

  I should take comfort in his words, but I can’t.

  I’m the one who didn’t
tell Jeremy about my past. He should have heard it from me, not from Mitchell.

  He slides a business card from the back pocket of his jeans. “Here’s my card. Give me a call when you’re ready. We’ll meet for a coffee and talk shop.”

  I watch him leave my office, wishing I could follow him, but I can’t. I have to give West time with his friend, and I have to face the one man who promised he’d always protect me.

  I wipe the tears from my face, pick up my phone and head straight for my dad’s office.

  Sooner or later he’ll show up and I’ll be there waiting with all of the questions I need answers to.

  Chapter 46

  Jeremy

  I should be drowning my sorrows in a bottle of Rizon vodka right now, but my palm is cupped around a coffee. I’m at the café around the corner from Linny’s office.

  I couldn’t make it past this point, so I barked at Trent to get back to the office to take my meeting with a supplier, and I landed here.

  I reached out to Rocco because he’s the only person I know who will help me make sense of this.

  He walks through the door with a smile on his face.

  For fuck’s sake. Why does he have to look so happy when I feel like my world is upside down?

  He stalks over to the counter and places an order.

  The barista strikes up a conversation with him. I can’t hear a word, but her body language says it all.

  She wants more than the few dollars he shoved into the coffee mug in front of her marked tips .

  Rocco’s used to the attention. I am too, but the difference now is that I don’t engage women in idol chatter anymore. I don’t seek out the in that will move things from a casual conversation to a casual fuck.

  I haven’t given in to the temptation in months because of Linny.

  I close my eyes against the urge to call her.

  I want answers.

  I want her.

  Jesus, all I want is her.

  “Jeremy.”

  I open my eyes to see Rocco lowering himself into the seat across from me, two cups of coffee in his hands.

  He slides one to me. “The barista made you another on the house. She said you looked like you could use it.”

  I glance down at the side of the cup and what’s written there in blue ink.

  Heather.

  Followed by a New York based phone number.

  I huff out a laugh. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?”

  “I just met her.” He takes a sip of coffee. “She’s beautiful, Jeremy.”

  “Heather?” I push the cup aside. “I’m not interested.”

  “Linny.” He taps his fingers on the tabletop. “I just came from her office. She’s as torn up as you are.”

  “What the fuck were you doing at her office?” I narrow my eyes.

  “I was two blocks over at a meeting and thought I’d drop in to meet the marketing whiz launching our vanilla vodka.” He exhales harshly. “She was shaking when I walked into her office.”

  “So you put two-and-two together?” I question. “Or did she come out and tell you that we’ve been seeing each other?”

  “Her face gave everything away.” He shakes his head. “She looked like someone grabbed her heart and squeezed it until it shattered. When I told her that I had to leave to meet you, I could see the pain.”

  All the air in my lungs feels like it escapes in an instant. I don’t want her in pain. I want to protect her.

  “It’s none of my business, but I’m here if you want to talk about what happened,” he offers.

  I called him down here because I need something from him. I don’t know if that’s advice or just an ear to listen to me.

  Either way, I’ve got to start talking.

  “I found out today that she eloped in Las Vegas at some point.” I pinch the bridge of my nose to ward off an impending headache. “It surprised the hell out of me.”

  “That marriage is over?”

  “It better be,” I shoot back. “I’d never fuck a woman who is attached to someone else. I’d never touch a woman with a husband.”

  Rocco knows my history. He knows how I feel about cheating.

  “She’s not the type to fuck around on someone,” I say the words easily, confidently. “I’d bet everything I own that the marriage was over as quickly as it happened.”

  “I’ll pass on that bet because I think you’re right.” He laughs. “You’re the best judge of character I know. You can read people. If your gut is telling you that it’s over, it’s over.”

  “I feel things for her that I’ve never felt before.” I take a sip of coffee to swallow past the lump in my throat. “I think I’m in love with this woman.”

  Rocco blinks. “So what the fuck is the problem? Why aren’t you telling her this?”

  “If hearing her secret shook me to the core, how the hell is she going to react when she hears mine?”

  He glances at me. “If she loves you as much as you love her, she’ll see those secrets for what they are.”

  I laugh. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’ve been hiding a part of your life that you should be damn proud of, Jeremy.” He picks up his coffee cup. “There’s no shame in what happened to you and your reaction to that.”

  I worked through the shame years ago. Now, it’s guilt that I wrestle with.

  “I’m proud to be your friend.” He leans back in his chair. “Linny will be proud of you too. Talk to her. Give her a chance to prove how much she cares about you.”

  It’s a gamble, but I have to take it.

  I don’t want Linny finding out about my past the way I found out about hers.

  I need to tell her. She has to hear it from me.

  Chapter 47

  Linny

  Hours have passed since I got to my dad’s office, although it feels like days.

  It’s past seven p.m. and he’s still not here. I finally gave in thirty minutes ago and sent him a text message.

  Linny: I’m at the office. You need to come down here.

  My dad’s response was swift considering the fact that he hates texting.

  Dad: I’m dead tired. What’s wrong? I’ll send Mitchell to take care of it.

  I laughed aloud, the sound vibrating off the walls and out into the empty offices beyond.

  Everyone cleared out by six p.m, many of them stopping in the open doorway of my dad’s office to ask if I needed anything.

  They all looked confused. It’s not surprising since they caught me sitting in his chair behind his desk.

  I’m still sitting here.

  The last message I sent was twenty minutes ago.

  Linny: It’s urgent. Only you can handle this.

  It only took a beat until his next message popped up on my screen.

  Dad: I’m on my way.

  I’ve spent the past few hours rehearsing in my mind what I’ll say. That’s been punctuated by memories of my childhood.

  My dad taught me how to ride a bike in Central Park. He sat in the bleachers of my high school gymnasium cheering Harmony and me on during all those volleyball games.

  He watched me graduate from college, and he was the first person I cooked dinner for in my new apartment.

  He’s always been my best friend and confidante.

  I hear the elevator ding its arrival on this floor. He’ll walk past my empty, darkened office and then notice the light shining into the corridor from his.

  I take a deep breath as his footsteps near.

  “I’m here. What is it?” Sweat peppers his forehead, his cheeks flushing. It’s obvious that he put in some effort to get here as quickly as he could.

  I’m on my feet in an instant. “Thank you for coming, dad.”

  He clucks his tongue. “You don’t look panicked. Is there an actual emergency that warranted me coming down here at night?”

  I step closer to him; close enough that he can see the redness of my eyes. “It’s an emergency to me.
”

  “You’ve been crying.” He moves quickly toward me. “What happened? Did you lose the Rizon account?”

  No. I lost every ounce of trust I had in you, dad.

  I glance down at the black sweatpants and college sweatshirt he’s wearing. This is how he looked at night when he used to tuck me into bed when I was a child.

  This is the man I miss.

  “You told Mitchell about Corbin.”

  He reaches for something to steady his balance. His shaking hand lands on my forearm. “Linny.”

  “Why?” It’s a simple question, but the expression on his face is anything but that. He looks as though a train is barreling down on him at breakneck speed and there’s no time to jump out of its way.

  “He said something to you?” he asks somberly. “I made him promise never to mention it.”

  I laugh unexpectedly. “You made me the same promise.”

  “I know.” His voice is dull, emotionless. He moves away from me seeking out one of the chairs in front of his desk. Lowering himself into it, he glances at me again. “Families shouldn’t have secrets.”

  I take the chair next to him, crossing my legs at the knees. “He’s not my family.”

  His eyes search mine. “He is.”

  I shake my head vehemently; tired of playing the good daughter who accepts her father’s second marriage and everything that comes with it.

  I stuck around. I stayed when Bethy ran because my dad wanted an heir to take over the family business.

  I made nice with Diane and tolerated Mitchell because I could see the joy in my dad when he was around them.

  “He is your family. Mom, Bethy and you are mine.” I clutch my hands together in my lap.

  His eyes well with unshed tears as he stares at me. “Mitchell is your brother.”

  “Stepbrother, “ I spit back. “I don’t even consider him that. He’s my competition.”

  His hands fly in the air in a wide arc. “To hell with it. I’m so goddamn tired of the lies. All of the lies.”

  His words stop me in place. “What lies?”