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“And you think breaking it off with him is going to make it somehow better?”
I stare up at the ceiling, spinning my wheels, trying to figure out how I can get through this with the least amount of damage possible. “I don’t know. There’s no answer I like, Dani. I don’t want to drag him into this. Gwendolyn will destroy my family either way, and she’ll turn Lincoln into a martyr. The public will eat it up, and Lincoln will be right in the middle of the mayhem. And all for what? Because he wants to look into a damn penthouse with a fetish room? It doesn’t make any sense. None of this does.”
“Okay, let’s put feelings and emotions aside for a second, which I get is hard since you’re clearly in love with the guy—”
I immediately go on the defensive. “I’m not—” I can’t finish the sentence because she’s right. Somewhere along the way, I fell for Lincoln, for his cynical attitude, for his unapologetic lack of fucks given when it comes to status, for his altruism and his generosity. I drop my head in my hands. “I’m so screwed right now.”
“Let’s not panic, yet. We need to look at the facts and assess them with logic.”
“Easy for you to say, your life isn’t a billion shades of messed up right now.”
“I think the Mooreheads’ penchant for drama is rubbing off you.”
“This isn’t a joke, Dani.”
“I’m not trying to be funny. Just hear me out. Gwendolyn knew about the penthouse, and probably has for some time. So there are two possibilities we’re working with. Either she’s the one with the fetish, or she knew about the mistress. Regardless, she has something to hide. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t be trying to stop Lincoln from looking for answers.”
“So what do I do?”
“You find out what she’s hiding and blackmail her right back.”
“I can’t blackmail my boyfriend’s mother.”
“I’m not sure you have another option, Wren. Not if you don’t want Gwendolyn to blow the lid off your family’s secret.”
“I can’t let that happen.” I take an extra-big gulp from the carafe. “God, what if my mother didn’t say anything?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if Gwendolyn tapped my phone? What if she’s been listening in on all my calls? Maybe that’s how she knew about me and Lincoln. Oh my God! What if there are cameras in Griffin’s penthouse? What if they’re in mine? What if she’s seen what we do behind closed doors?” The thought alone is terrifying, and actually a whole lot gross.
“Honestly, Wren, stop freaking out. All anyone has to do is look at the pictures of you and Lincoln together, and they can guess what’s going on. He looks at you like you’re the beginning and the end of his world. You would have to be legitimately blind not to notice how enamored he is with you.”
She has a point. I’ve seen the candid pictures. “Okay, fine, but that doesn’t explain how she knew I went with Lincoln to the penthouse in Lower Manhattan unless—oh my God. Lincoln gets alerts when someone enters that building, and if Gwendolyn knows about it, then she must get alerts too. Is that possible?” Which makes me wonder if she knew about his first visit to the penthouse.
Dani takes the carafe of wine from me and sets it on the table. “That makes logical sense.”
I rub my temples, trying to understand how quickly my life has been upended. “I don’t get it. How could she know about the penthouse and be okay with it? How is someone ever okay knowing their spouse is cheating on them?”
“I don’t know, Wren. Maybe they had some kind of arrangement. She has to be hiding something if she’s throwing out blackmail, though.”
“Now I just need to find out what.”CHAPTER 20BAD VIBESLINCOLNMy conference call took three times as long as I would’ve liked thanks to how much Wentworth Williams likes to jerk off his ego. But the end result was positive, so the time wasted is something I’ll gladly forfeit. The deal I struck with Williams Media means I no longer have to fire twenty people, and I’m pushing a brand-new initiative that will focus on things I actually care about, like helping people. It’s a win all the way around. The best part? Amalie—Armstrong’s former fiancée—will be heading up the initiative.
Financially, we’re putting out more than we’re getting back, but I think it’s a smart decision in the long-term. Also, my conscience feels lighter, especially after I call G-mom and tell her the news. I may be in my thirties, but it still makes me feel good when she tells me she’s proud of me.
Unfortunately, there’s still a weight in my gut that hasn’t eased up since the visit to my dad’s secret penthouse, and it’s grown exponentially this afternoon.
