Chapter Eight: Sweet-Talker
Lincoln
The following afternoon, as I'm briskly walking to another blind date courtesy of my mother, I can't stop thinking about Sienna.
I didn't want our lunch date to ever end, and even though she kept it strictly professional after our moment in the alley, I enjoyed hearing everything she said as she talked about her upcoming projects with me and the plans she had for the future of Stone Media Entertainment. There hasn't been a woman that's had me this interested in...hardly ever, from what I can remember.
Am I feeling this way because Sienna is a woman I probably can't have? Is it because she's a challenge? Deep down I know that can't be true because just the mere thought of putting my hands all over her body lets me know there's no way in hell I'd ever be able to stop. Sleeping with Sienna wouldn't just be a one-time thing, and it scares the living shit out of me.
Letting out a sigh, I push open the door to an overly expensive French restaurant in Le District, ignoring the twinkling lights and the aroma of garlic bread as I scan the tables. It takes me only a minute to spot the prospect. Long blonde hair, bright blue doe eyes, and a slim figure that is wrapped in a high-neck baby pink dress.
"Hello," I greet her, and when I lean in to give her a hug, I smell daisies. A ton of them. Marc Jacobs for sure.
"It's so nice to meet you," she gushes. I purposefully don't pull her chair out for her and sit adjacently, not even bothering to put my napkin down on my lap. I can tell just by looking at her that she knows her etiquette, and it's important to her. She does a quick glance at my napkin as she fluffs out her own, furrowing her eyebrows together when I just continue to sit here. "Your mother has told me so much about you."
"And how is it that you know her?"
"Oh, I work with her at the DAR. Together we've planned the most talked about events of the season. Last year, at the museum of modern art, we..."
I let her continue talking, only half-interested. Daughters of the American Revolution. How unsurprising. It's as if my mother hasn't heard me yawn during those functions of theirs I'm forced to go to, and I'm getting ready to fall asleep as the woman, who is still nameless, continues to yap about it.
"I'm Kendall," she says, almost as if she can read my mind. "Normally I don't go on blind dates, but your mother insisted, so..."
I lean forward to rest my elbows on the table, earning another look of disapproval from her. "And what is it that you learned about me that intrigued you so much, Kendall?"
I'm waiting for it. Waiting for the answer that all of them give, and without a second thought she says, "She told me you have an extremely successful business and that you're the most eligible bachelor in New York."
Our waiter approaches, and Kendall orders the most expensive wine on the menu, no doubt testing if the rumors about me are true. I give her a fake smile and lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. "I hate to break it to you, but I'm not looking for a woman to marry, or date."
"Then why come?"
I shrug. "Because my mother forced me to."
"You're almost thirty years old. Your mother doesn't have to force you to do anything."
Blunt, coming from a DAR member, but I don't let her comment get to me. She doesn't understand how much my mother and I have gone through in the past two years. As annoying as she may be, she's just looking out for me, and I'm not going to find another reason to upset her or make her life harder than it is. Going on these stupid dates for ten minutes out of my day isn't something I necessarily want to do, but I'm doing it to make her happy.
I take out my wallet and leave a couple hundred on the table in cash, giving her another smile. "I'm not ready to settle down, especially with someone who only agreed to come on this date for the simple fact that I run a successful business. I hope you find your Prince Charming, Kendall, but it most certainly isn't going to be me. Enjoy the rest of your lunch."
And with that, I leave her sitting alone at one of the finest restaurants in New York.
***
I'm not surprised when my mother calls me only two hours later.
"Lincoln Benjamin Nash," she hisses through the phone, "what was wrong with Kendall? The poor thing called me up crying and explained that you left her sitting alone at Stefano's."
Grabbing a hand towel from the floor, I wipe the sweat dripping down my chest and hook it around my neck. I just finished a boxing workout in my home gym, my preferred method of relieving stress, and I'm panting as I reply, "She wasn't my type. I paid for her meal. Don't worry."
"It's starting to seem as if no one that I choose is your type, Lincoln. Are you..." She clears her throat. "Am I choosing the wrong type of person?"
I bark out a laugh. "Mother, if I were gay, you'd be the first to know, and I'd expect nothing less than for you to line up eligible bachelors at my door. I'm into women, just not the ones you're selecting." Sienna and her curvy body float into my mind, how ready I was in that alley to kiss her. "I'm sure you'll find someone eventually that will pique my interest."
In my closet, I look at the perfect rows of ties sprawled out neatly on velvet-lined shelves, attempting to select the one that I'll wear tonight for Sienna's party. My blood has been racing all day at the thought of seeing her. When we come within a two-foot radius of each other, the sexual energy is too much to bear, and at one point I know I'm going to break.
"Can you at least try to manage through the entire date before you turn your nose up next time?" she asks as sweet as can be, even though there's a lingering threat behind it.
I decide on a red tie, the color that I've been imagining Sienna's lingerie to look like before I set it to the side and turn toward the suit wall. "I'll try," I drawl, with no intention of actually doing it. "Would a visit from me soon make up for it? I have time next weekend. We could have dinner?"
She laughs, and I smile at the speaker. There was a time when I thought I'd never hear her laugh again. "Has anyone ever told you, dear son, that you are an absurdly excellent sweet-talker?"
"Once or twice."
"Well, dinner sounds lovely. Your brother is coming into town, so it'll be a good time for us all to catch up."
"What? Why?"
She sighs, and it's the same one I've heard over and over again since dad passed. "I wish the both of you would just get along again. You used to be so close."
"That was before I found out he wanted to sell dad's company." I hold the tie up to my neck again to be sure, nodding to myself in approval. "He doesn't think I can do this. Sometimes I wonder why you gave the CEO position to me and not him."
"Your father wouldn't have wanted to sell it," she replies after about a minute. Her voice is somber now, and I regret ever getting upset in the first place. "I have faith in you, sweetheart. You'll turn things around. Just give it time."
"And if Jett tries to get you to sell?"
"Then I'll tell him I'm not ready. Just come over for dinner and we'll discuss it all then. If you're truly that desperate to save the company, you should call Kendall. She and her mother have connections with men who would love to invest in Nash Enterprises."
"Mother," I warn.
"Okay, okay, just think about it. I'll text you the time for dinner after I speak with Jett. I love you."
Muttering a love you too, I push my phone into my shorts pocket just as it goes off again. An email from Sienna.
From: sstone@stonemedia.com
Subject: Tonight
Hello Lincoln,
Just reaching out to make sure you're still coming tonight. If you changed your mind, I'll need to rearrange the tables.
Sincerely,
Sienna
CEO
Stone Media Entertainment
To: sstone@stonemedia.com
Subject: Excited
Sienna,
We're emailing each other on weekends now?
Of course, I'm coming. I wouldn't miss it.
See you soon,
Lincoln