Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85274 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Lincoln chuckles. “The chef I’m looking to hire is upstairs making an array of dishes for me to sample. I’d love a second opinion.”
“I’m starved,” I shamelessly lie. Sienna and I literally just ate dinner before we came here. But I want more time with Lincoln. How can we develop a friendship without spending time together?
“Okay, but I need her real quick,” Sienna says, thankfully not calling me out on my little white lie. “Can she meet you in a few minutes?”
“No problem,” Lincoln says. “See you in a few.” He graces me with a soft smile that makes my belly tighten.
“Oh, wait!” I say, holding out the container in my hands. “This is for you. A thank you for helping me with my essay. It’s homemade soup.” Occasionally, when we have the money for the ingredients, I make meatball minestrone. It’s Sienna’s favorite—mine too—and we can eat the leftovers for days.
Lincoln takes it from me and lifts the lid. “Smells amazing. You made this yourself?”
“Yep,” I tell him, imagining that one day, when we’re together, I’ll make meatballs for him. Men love food, and I’m a great cook. “All you have to do is heat it up. It’s delicious.”
“Thanks,” he says. “Meet me in my office when you’re ready to go upstairs.”
When we get in the dressing room, Sienna pulls me to the side, glancing around to make sure no one can hear what she’s about to say. “He’s too old for you. You know that, right?”
She’s sounding like a broken record. When I mentioned to her how he helped me with my essay, I made the mistake of also saying he’s nice and I like him. He’s different from the men our mom brings home to fuck. And he’s way more mature than the guys at school.
“Age is just a number,” I counter stubbornly. It’s not like I expect him to be with me now. I’m aware that at my age, he doesn’t see me like that—hence my goal to form a friendship with him.
“Unless it’s a number under eighteen,” Sienna says with a stern face. “Then, it’s statutory rape.”
At her words, I roll my eyes because Lincoln isn’t that type of guy, and I wouldn’t risk hitting on him right now. I need to be smart about things if I want him to give us a real chance one day. “I’ll be fifteen soon. Eighteen is only three years away.”
I looked it up, and as long as I’m eighteen, we can be together.
And once I’m legal, all bets are off.
CHAPTER THREE
ELLIE
The Past
“Ellie...what are you doing down here?”
I glance up and wipe my eyes when I see Lincoln standing in front of me in the corner of the hotel lobby.
“I wasn’t ready to go home yet,” I admit with a sniffle. “Bad night.”
He sits next to me on the bench and asks, “What’s wrong?” Then waits patiently for me to answer.
So much has happened recently. My mom stole money and drugs from a client and took off, leaving Sienna and me to deal with the fallout—the fallout being our home and car getting torched and a million-dollar bounty on Sienna’s head. Lincoln’s brother, Micah, saved the day by marrying my sister and moving us into his penthouse, which is in the hotel he and Lincoln own.
I left for the summer to attend dance camp—thanks to Micah paying for it—and came back to find my sister and her husband madly in love.
Micah paid for me to start at a new school—a fancy school of the arts—where I thought I was making friends, only to learn tonight that several of them have been talking shit about me behind my back.
“Was it that guy you went on a date with?” Lincoln eventually asks.
“It wasn’t a date.” He and Micah called it that because it’s Friday night and Jameson picked me up. Lincoln lives next door to Micah and was over when Jameson showed up. “It was just supposed to be a study date,” I tell him softly. “We were assigned a project and he asked if I wanted to work on it with him. Turns out, it was just a way for him to try to get in my pants.”
Lincoln visibly tenses up next to me, looking around as if the asshole would still be here.
“I don’t know where he is. We were supposed to go to the coffee shop, but instead he took me to a party. He offered me a drink, and when I told him I thought we were supposed to be working on our projects, he told me to lighten up. Said he thought a girl from Booker Park would be more fun.”
Booker Park is where Sienna and I are from. A small, lower income neighborhood in Tesoro. “I thought when we moved in with Micah, we were leaving that part of our life behind,” I admit. “But I guess the saying is true. You can take the girl out of the ghetto but—”