by Simply BWWM
“No,” she said under her breath, but that didn’t solve her current problem.
When Lincoln had taken her hand and leaned in close to whisper in her ear outside the hotel, she’d been thrust back into the memory of her dream. She’d covered it up by laughing and claiming she was ticklish, but the truth was that her body had responded to him as if the encounter in her dream had really happened. She wanted him, and she wanted him bad.
If she didn’t know better, she could almost believe that Lincoln wanted her, too.
Stop, she told herself as she replayed the afternoon over and over in her head. It had felt good when Lincoln held her in his arms, comforting her when she felt like she was falling to pieces. But Lincoln was a good man, and she couldn’t risk reading into his touch, no matter how right it felt.
Her phone chimed just then, pulling her out of her musings and back into the moment.
Dinner is served, the text from Lincoln said, and all at once, Charity was starving. She hurriedly got dressed, leaving her dry hair clipped up away from her face.
She wasn’t prepared for the spread on the table or the candles that encircled the vase with the single rose in it.
“Wow,” she said. “When you said you wanted to treat me to a nice dinner, you weren’t joking. Are these real dishes?”
“Were you expecting takeout boxes?” he asked, pulling out a chair for her beside his.
“Yes,” she said. “But this is amazing.”
“It’s almost like being in a real restaurant.”
She smiled. “Thank you.”
“You have to stop saying that,” he said with a wink. “You deserve this and more.”
“How are you still single?” she blurted out, then instantly regretted it.
He laughed, throwing his head back slightly, as shocked by her words as she was.
“You’d be surprised how hard it is to find women who are genuinely interested in the life I lead. Women who want a billionaire don’t want to break a sweat, let alone hike for hours in the wilderness. And women who would enjoy a more primitive existence haven’t experienced enough of the world to hold a decent conversation. It’s a tough balancing act, but when I’m sure I’ve found the woman who completes me, I’m never going to let her go.”
He was intense now, leaning forward, his hand beside a linen napkin folded in the shape of an elegant swan.
“She’d be a lucky woman,” Charity said, then changed the subject. “This food looks so amazing. I’m not sure whether to eat it or photograph it.”
Lincoln chuckled.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those that has to take a picture of every meal and post it?”
“No. I hardly use social media at all. I have to set a reminder so I can remember to plug my business at least once a week.”
“I noticed you don’t post much.”
“You noticed?” she asked, surprised.
“I checked you out.”
“How did you know my screen name?”
He shrugged.
“I have my ways,” he said, teasing.
“Or you just narrowed it down from your most recent followers.”
“Or that,” he agreed, chuckling again. “Although, I have so many followers, that would’ve been next to impossible if you didn’t have your name in your screen name.”
“True,” she said. “With that many followers, it’s a wonder you don’t have any stalkers.”
“I do. At least, I think I might at least have some super fans with boundary issues. I’ve seen a few faces on the trails that look really familiar, but they don’t ever come up and talk to me.”
“That seems suspicious.”
“I thought so, too, but what are you going to do? It’s part of being a social media influencer.”
“That’s why I like to keep mine low key,” she joked.
“If you posted more selfies, you would have a million followers by next week.”
“I’d rather gain followers on the merit of my work.”
“I do like your work. You’re very talented.”
“Thank you,” she said. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ in that.”
“Not really. But there are better ways to use social media. You’re talented, but you’re also gorgeous. It’s a combination that draws people. You want to use social media to help people discover your work, not the other way around.”
“That makes sense,” she said. “I might give it a shot. I guess I just want my work to speak for itself and pandering to the crowd seems like I failed, you know?”
“I don’t think I could do what you do. I can’t even draw stick figures.”
“Actually, that’s why I got into graphic design in the first place. It helps to be able to draw, but anyone willing to work at it can do graphic design.”
“Do you have another job?” he asked between bites.
“No,” she said.
“That’s quite a risk.”
“I’ve been told the same thing a lot, but the truth is, I either go all in or not at all. I couldn’t be a graphic designer part-time. I need to be devoted to my work.”
“I understand,” he said. “I know that Will likes to poke fun of my trust fund, but in all reality, most of what my father left me was tied up in The Moore Corporation.”
“What’s up between you and Will?”
“We have a bit of a rivalry,” Lincoln said. “We’re both extreme outdoor adventure vloggers. He’s basically my only competition.”
“I get that, but it seemed a little more personal than that.”
“You’re right. We used to be best friends, and when I started my vlog, we did it together.”
“What happened?”
“Accounts like that are slow to start, and Will just couldn’t wait. I kept telling him that when it took off, it would be practically overnight, and if he could just hold on and invest some time in it, everything would be alright.”
“I get it. It was the same when I started my graphic design company. My best friend was panicking about rent and bills, practically begging me to get another job. I had a part-time job at first, but I pretty much lived off my savings for a long time. I still paid my part of the bills, but there was a solid month that I ate nothing but ramen and cereal, and Shanice was concerned.”
“But you kept at it,” he said with a warm smile. “And now, look at you.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” she laughed. “I’m still struggling sometimes, but for the most part, I do well for myself.”
“And you wouldn’t be this far if you hadn’t held out.”
“I wouldn’t, but I kinda get where Will is coming from. It’s easy to hold out when you have a trust fund and money isn’t an issue. There were so many days that I thought I would fail, and I skipped a few meals. But I knew that ignoring my dreams was more painful than a little bit of hunger.”
“Some people are short-sighted.”
“They are, but you can’t blame them. I can design on an empty stomach. I bet it’s a little harder to climb mountains when you’re hungry.”
“It can be dangerous, but I made sure that Will had money. I created a job for him with my vlog brand. I paid him to go on these adventures with me, and when it took off, he would be part owner and get half of all revenue.”
“But he bounced before that happened.”
“Less than a month before it took off. He left in a huff and told me he didn’t want to go down with my sinking ship. He started his own vlog, and the first post was a video where he talked about my foolishness and how he was glad to get out when he did.”
“That sounds charming,” Charity said with a wry grin.
Lincoln chuckled.
“It gets better. After the vlog started making money, he tried to sue me for profits, claiming that I was only doing well because of him. His blowup called attention to my vlog from his followers, and since he mentioned me by name, I decided to repost the video on my account to encourage my followers to live the
ir dreams no matter what. His case was thrown out because his video was damning. There was no way for him to convince a judge that he was still invested in the company when it went viral. I’d offered to settle with him before court, but he laughed in my face. He walked away with nothing. By then, my father had died, and I sold my shares and stepped away from the board of directors, and I was finally able to start living life on my terms. It was the best decision I ever made, stepping out of the old man’s shadow.”
“I’m sure it felt like that, but I know that most parents just want to make sure that their kids grow up to be successful. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it.”
“That’s really nice of you,” Lincoln said. “But that’s not true in my father’s case. He was controlling. I never could protect my mom from him; I was really young when she died. But as soon as that man was in the ground, I cut all ties with everything he’d saddled me with, and I never looked back. I hope he’s rolling in his grave right now.”
Charity wasn’t sure what to say, so she took a bite and watched his face and the emotions that played across it. He wasn’t sad about his father’s death, but she could see that he had held onto a lifetime of resentment and something more that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
He was still brooding when she finally spoke, treading carefully.
“That’s why you went off when you saw George attacking me,” she said.
It wasn’t a question.
“It was. I heard him berating you, and I felt like I’d stepped back in time to the house I used to live in. My father never laid a hand on my mom, but he was always in her face, tearing her down every chance he got. I was too young to do anything then, but when I saw the way George was going at you, and I heard what he was saying, I knew that this was my chance to do something.”
“You didn’t have to,” she said quietly. “You could have walked away.”
He shook his head.
“I couldn’t have. I couldn’t leave you alone to face that monster. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself.”
Charity’s lip quivered, but she bit back the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. She’d spent the past two weeks trying to push the events of that day from her mind, but it all came crashing back. This man sitting across the table had saved her life, and he wanted nothing in return. If she hadn’t contacted him, she probably would’ve gone the rest of her life without seeing him.
“There’s something so humbling about a man saving your life and wanting nothing in return,” she said when she could speak.
He smiled, the expression almost sad.
“But, I do want something in return,” he said, taking a slow sip of his wine.
Her stomach dropped, and images of the two of them tangled in the bedsheets swirled in her head. She couldn’t help but smile.
“And what is that?” she asked, still smiling.
He set the glass down and looked her straight in the eye, his gaze unwavering.
“I want you to live your life to the fullest, and I want to make sure that no one ever treats you like he did again. I know when this is over, you’re going to go back to your life and I to mine. I want to know that you won’t ever know the fear that I saw in your eyes that day. If I can trust that, I’ll be happy. That’s all I want.”
“Me too,” she said, but it was a lie.
All she really wanted was for this time with Lincoln to last forever.
Chapter7
Will sat across the desk from the large, imposing man in the tailored suit, reading the stack of papers in the cream file folder, then closing it and looking up.
“The terms seem reasonable,” Will said. “I’m not sure what I’m being hired for, exactly.”
“Mr. Harrington,” the man began, leaning forward, his blond hair perfectly styled without a strand out of place. “My son has been missing almost three weeks now, and last night, they finally found his car.”
“I heard about that,” Will said. “Do they suspect foul play?”
“They don’t suspect anything,” Mr. Wittman said. “In fact, the police are dragging their feet on this, claiming that George wanted to disappear, which is why the GPS was disabled before he left his home. The sheriff believes it also explains why the car was left in a remote wilderness parking lot at an area that isn’t patrolled.”
“They don’t really check the parking lots since funding was cut last year,” Will explained. “I’ve seen a few abandoned cars sitting there for months before they’re towed, so I’m really not surprised. I guess I still don’t understand what that has to do with me.”
“My George didn’t run away,” Mr. Wittman said, leaning further forward. “Something happened to him in those woods.”
He sat back suddenly, reaching into his desk and pulling out a thick envelope.
“I had some of my interns helping with the search efforts,” Mr. Wittman began. “Mostly printing up flyers with the latest information and such. One of my interns decided to take it one step further. You see, these kids are always on their phones now, and even winning a prized internship with the ADA doesn’t curtail that obnoxious behavior. But this time, her social media addiction paid off.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She went on the instant gram thingy,” he said, and Will held his tongue, not wanting to derail the conversation to correct the older man. “And she looked up posts from that area around the time he went missing, and not only did she find a picture that we believe to be him, she found your account.”
“I didn’t see your son out there,” Will said, suddenly wondering if he’d stepped into a bad situation. “The places I go require a permit, and I didn’t encounter a soul the entire hike.”
Mr. Wittman waved him away.
“I didn’t think that,” he said, turning his laptop to show Will the picture he was talking about. “But as you can see here, that’s my George in the background of this picture at the trailhead near the parking lot, and he’s with a woman.”
“It’s the back of someone’s head and the left of someone who looks like a woman, but the hiking clothes are pretty unisex. If I could see their faces, that would help, but the arm in the foreground covers the companion’s entire head and that man could be anyone.”
Mr. Wittman shook his head.
“That is George, and I think that could be his ex-girlfriend. She is really into nature and was always bothering George to go hiking with her.”
Will scoffed.
“You just described half the women in Seattle,” he said. “Hiking is a big thing here. What are the chances that these people are actually them?”
“That’s why I’m hiring you.”
His assumption that Will was interested in his proposal was irritating, but he was willing to hear the man out for the obscene amount of money being offered. Will could deal with arrogant when there were that many zeros involved.
“Your pictures came up a lot under something called a hashtag, and it’s obvious that you’re very familiar with this area. I want you to look for my son. Start at the head of this trail and maybe you can even track him or something. I don’t know, but I’m sure that he’s there, somewhere. Or he was. I’m looking for clues so I can figure out where to look next, and this is our only lead.”
“Did you call the ex-girlfriend?”
“My wife reached out to her, but the reception was cold. They parted on difficult terms a few months ago, and the woman is really just a horrible witch.”
“Why don’t you have her brought in for questioning?”
Mr. Wittman laughed.
“This isn’t television,” he said. “And I’m not going to tip my hand without something more than what I have. If you can find proof that she was there around that time, even better. But right now, I have exactly nothing to go on, and bringing her in won’t change that. If we scare her now, she may lawyer up and we’ll never get anything out of her. I need proof.”
Will sighed, pushing the folder back ac
ross the table.
“There are hundreds of square miles to cover, and there’s no guarantee I’m going to find anything.”
“That’s alright, too,” Mr. Wittman said. “At least we can rule it out.”
“Why not just hire a search party?”
The man sighed.
“It’s a delicate situation,” he said. “And like bringing the ex-girlfriend in, calling attention to this area might give whoever hurt my son a chance to get away. I need this done quietly and right.”
“And if I find nothing, do I still get paid?”
“Yes. You get what’s in this envelope now so you can fund the search, and when you find him, you get the rest and a bonus.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’m a reasonable man,” he said. “At some point, I’ll have to accept that George isn’t out there somewhere, alone and scared and maybe in need of medical help, and I’ll call the search off. You’ll get paid everything minus the finding bonus.”
“What if he’s dead?”
“If you find him, alive or dead heaven forbid, you will receive a bonus. My wife is beside herself with grief. He’s her only child. She will not rest until he’s home, and if he’s already gone, that’s something we’ll have to work through.”
Will considered it, but something in the back of his mind was screaming at him to walk away. This wasn’t going to end well, and he was starting to think that the money wouldn’t be worth it.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“I could hire your competition,” Mr. Wittmann said with a smile. “From what I gather, it doesn’t look like the man needs any more money, but I’m desperate here.”
The mere mention of Lincoln made Will angry. He knew he was being played, but the thought of Lincoln walking away with that much more money than he already had was the push he needed to decide.
“Alright, I’ll do it,” he said. “But I’m going to need everything you know about George and this woman, even the ugly stuff.”
