Rise (Rise & Fall Duet #1) - Grahame Claire Page 0,24

either.

“You make time for what you want to do.” Another of Eric’s pearls of wisdom.

Lincoln appeared to be at a temporary loss for words as he let that nugget soak in. “You must have a dog, considering you’re in the dog supply industry.” His tone dripped with triumph. The you of his statement didn’t feel as if it included my brother.

What he should’ve said is “Lexie, how do you consider yourself an expert at preparing dog food when you don’t have one of your own?”

That was what he meant. And it was fine if he wanted to be judgy like that.

I perked up and shielded my eyes. “Oh, I think I see Mrs. Johnson. It’s been lovely to see you as always, Mr. Hollingsworth, but we must get back to business. You understand.” I flashed him the fakest smile I could muster. One that meant go away, ass.

He continued to block Eric’s doorway. “When do you have time in your schedule for a visit to the tailor? Would Sunday morning be suitable?”

“Yes!” Eric answered without considering anything else.

And because of his excitement, I couldn’t protest. That wouldn’t be fair to him just to spite Lincoln.

“I’ll text you the time I’ll collect you.”

“We aren’t trinkets,” I said smartly.

He tilted his head. “No, you most certainly aren’t.”

“Lincoln, I’ve been waiting for you for fifteen minutes. Don’t waste more of my time carousing.”

He stiffened at the harsh words and seemed to steel himself before he turned around. When he stepped away from the van, the older version of Lincoln stood on the sidewalk. So that’s where he learned that pissed off expression.

Wordlessly, Lincoln stalked away in the direction of Mrs. Johnson’s building. From the moment of locking eyes on his father, I’d been unimpressed. Pretentious. Jerk. Two words that seemed to sum him up, if I had to. I’d lived with people like that.

You’ll never amount to anything, Lexie. You . . . and him.

As much as I despised our horrid parents, maybe they weren't as bad as Samuel Hollingsworth. Maybe.

Chapter Fourteen

Lincoln

“I’ve buried this as deep as I can, but it isn’t going away.”

My father paced in my home office space. I wanted him gone. Out of my sanctuary.

What would it be like to have the kind of relationship where I welcomed his presence? One where we had dinner and chatted about . . . whatever it was most relatives discussed.

At least have the courtesy to be gone before Beau returns.

For once, I was grateful for the late hours she’d been keeping.

Who is Mrs. Johnson?

I didn’t know any of the neighbors in my building because I had the luxury of avoiding them. My private elevator went to my private garage and my three levels at the top. Today was the rare occasion where I used the front entrance because I’d walked from the underground subway station. Beau had insisted we use that mode of transportation to get a better feel for the area around the property I wished to purchase. Despite she hadn't been with me when I left Daniel’s, I’d taken the subway home anyway.

Thick fingers snapped in front of my face.

“Are you listening to me?”

No. No, I was not. But it would be better to remain silent than admit that. And who the hell snaps their fingers at a forty-one-year-old man?

“I’ll see to the matter.” Although I’d put it off as if that were my profession. I rescheduled two meetings with attorneys and refused to let the events of a couple of days ago enter my mind. Except my sister, Daniel, and my father were determined to keep it front and center.

“If it weren’t for me, you’d be in a cell at the moment.”

It’s a wonder I’m not in one because of you.

I spun in my chair and looked out at the park view. The days were getting longer. People milled about, enjoying the slightly warmer air. I’d taken for granted the ability to move about as I pleased.

Freedom.

“You’re behaving as if Teague’s nuptials mean nothing to you.”

I wheeled back around. “His wedding has nothing to do with this.”

“I’m certain he’d be devastated not to have his brother stand up for him because he’s in prison.”

I mashed my lips together, hating that he always knew the exact thing to say to get what he wanted.

I’d never forgive myself if I missed Teague and Pepper’s wedding. Never.

“I’ll be there,” I grated out.

“Not if you don’t take your defense more seriously.”

“Did it ever occur to you that I’m innocent?”

He waved his hand in