Rise (Rise & Fall Duet #1) - Grahame Claire Page 0,44

himself comfortable in a chair opposite me as though he had an open invitation into my office. “Problem?”

“No.”

Every nuance of the word said the exact opposite.

“Lincoln, I raised you to handle your own situations but—” he paused for emphasis. “If you stopped being so stubborn, you’d realize I can help you.”

By staying out of my way.

Instead of speaking my mind, I said nothing. I didn’t have the time or energy for this mental dance with him.

“I have a closing,” I said through my teeth as I got to my feet.

He crossed his leg as if he were just getting settled in. “About that.”

I froze with my fingers around the handle of my briefcase. This was a personal property purchase. He should know nothing about it.

“The title company called me concerned about your wellbeing. They received notice the funds didn’t process from your account.”

My nostrils flared. In all the chaos, I hadn’t considered the transaction wouldn’t go through.

“I offered to cover the expenditure, but they said you’d been flagged as unable to purchase tangible property in the United States.” No. Not my livelihood. He spoke innocently, as if he didn’t understand why this would be happening to his son.

It was an act.

A punch.

And it made me see stars, but I had to hold it together until I could get away from him.

“I’ll see to it.”

“You know how I feel about our family name. If you’ve done something to tarnish that, now is the time to confess to me.”

He wasn’t my priest. And I hadn’t done a damn thing wrong except be born his son. Anyone who cared would’ve been on the battle lines with their children, using every resource they had to straighten out this mess.

Instead, he seemed to take some sort of perverse pleasure in seeing me in distress. Like throwing me into a shark tank to see if I could make it out alive as a test to prove I was worthy to be a Hollingsworth.

Whether he liked it or not, I already was one. And my name was the least of my concerns at the moment.

“I have to go.”

“I’m glad to see you’ve taken your counsel seriously. Perhaps you should spend more time with Mr. Zegas and Mr. Whitley.”

I tried to live without his shadow looming over my life. I’d become good at forgetting the constant tail he had on me. But I needed to remember.

Just because he was my father didn’t mean he wasn’t my enemy.

He’d never give me his loyalty.

He wouldn’t help me.

The only thing that could right now was strawberry ice cream.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Lexie

Bang. Bang. Bang.

I squeezed my eyes closed.

Please tell me he hasn’t found where we live.

I crept to the peephole and peered through.

“Who is it?” Eric whisper-hissed.

I screamed.

Eric screamed.

“Lexie,” Lincoln shouted.

“Lincoln!” Eric yelled back. He muscled around me and opened the door. “You’re here.”

Had he known he was coming?

“Why were you both screaming?”

I threw up my hands. “Still no hello.”

“I scared Sis.” Eric was brighter than he had been since the run-in with my father that afternoon. “Then she scared me.”

I may not be pleased to see Lincoln, but if he had this effect on my brother, I’d take it.

He made a satisfied noise. “What are you wearing?”

I looked down at my pajamas. Flannel pants and a fluffy white sweatshirt that looked like it was made out of cotton balls. Oh, and two socks that didn’t match.

“My relaxing outfit.” I blocked his path inside. “If you’re going to be ugly, you and your insults can turn right back around and go.” I’d reached my limit for dealing with nastiness for the day.

“I’m here for strawberry ice cream.”

I blinked up at him. Without my heels, he was a head taller than me. Stress lines radiated from his eyes and mouth. And while he still looked like the same beautiful put-together man he always was, something about him was tired. Like he’d taken one too many punches today.

“You’re in luck. We only ate most of it.” I moved to the kitchen, grabbed the carton from the freezer, and slid it across the counter. Stop noticing how good-looking Beau’s brother is, Lexie.

He looked at it as if he wasn’t sure what to do.

I offered him a spoon. “No need for a bowl when that’s all that’s left.”

Our fingers brushed when he took it. We might both be exhausted, but the electricity that zapped through me at his touch was full of life and fire.

While I tingled, he didn’t seem to notice the shock and dug straight into