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“Well, I need to be good for myself.”
Disappointment hits me like a tsunami.
“For now, Violet, I will be good for you. Patience.” Lincoln releases the brake pedal and pulls out of his parking spot outside my house. “Where to, Ms. West? Navigate me.”
He throws me a cheeky wink.
“Along to the end of the street and turn right.” I make myself comfortable.
I should have brought spare panties with me; they feel soaked already.
Verbal gymnastics with Lincoln is my favorite new sport.
CHAPTER 8
Violet
Lincoln and I haven't stopped chatting since we sat down at our ocean view table.
He’s interested in my work and must have asked me at least thirty questions. What I do, how we figure out the companies we want to gain, the types of businesses we buy, he was interested in it all, and how I play my part in the overall business was a big part of our conversation.
He’s the first man to take an interest in my life and work.
We have filled every minute with chatter, and I’ve laughed so much at his funny traveling stories, the quirky people he has met along the way. He met a girl named Katie who used an iron in her bedroom to straighten her hair as her hair straighteners had blown up and she fried her hair, forcing her to get it cut. Then a guy who forgot clean underwear, so he washed it in the hostel they were staying in but since there was no way of drying them in the morning when he needed them, he put them in the microwave and set them on fire and the whole hostel was then evacuated.
Lincoln informed me he wasn’t a fan of the hostels, not after he found a nest of cockroaches under his bed. He checked himself into local hotels throughout his travels instead. He wasn’t pompous about it; I understand where he was coming from. I enjoy a little luxury too.
Some of the crazy things he’s done while traveling, I openly admit I couldn’t do. He did the Grand Canyon Skywalk Glass Bridge and the worst of all is the Stratosphere SkyJump in Nevada. He casually said he jumped off the 108th floor of the building in the middle of Las Vegas. It turned my stomach thinking about it.
Thirty feet high up a wooden pole was nothing for Lincoln. He's a daredevil and has certainly made the most of his traveling experience, daring to do things I can only dream about.
He’s shown me some photos of the places he’s visited and it’s been a perfect night. Easy, fun, and as the time ticked by, I’ve become more and more attracted to him.
He’s not pretentious or trying to prove to be someone he isn’t or after me for anything, and that I find totally refreshing. He doesn’t let me get away with anything either and calls me out on my bullshit.
When it was time to order dessert, my sister’s voice rang in my head, telling me not to order, but Lincoln wouldn’t let me pass it up. He ordered for me and made it very clear it was a nonnegotiable. Telling me off for saying I had already had chocolate earlier was apparently not an excuse. According to him, there is always room for pudding. He maintained there is a separate space for it; it’s been scientifically proven, and it’s called dessert stomach. I must look that up, so I finally have proof for myself. Dessert is my favorite part of any meal, but something I rarely order.
After dessert, I plucked up the courage to ask what he does back home.
I’m currently sitting with my mouth wide open.
I lean further forward. “Your father and you own a five-star hotel? In Scotland?”
“Yes.”
“With your grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re a director?” I sit back in the teal-blue velvet restaurant dining chair.
“Yes. All three of us own it. The only privately owned, family-run five-star hotel in Scotland. We’re currently working toward becoming six-star rated. We’ll be the only one in Scotland.” He looks excited about that. “You should have dug a little deeper trying to find the information you were looking for about me. Google would find the good stuff. Not social media.”
I have to force my jaw not to drop to the ground.
I can’t work him out. “Why the hell are you working for S&M Gym?”
“Boredom. I told you, I like to work.” He shrugs his shoulders as if his explanation makes any sense. For the record, it doesn't.
