揧ou hear them from here??I look at her.
揗y grandma was deaf my whole life. I used to stay with her while my mom was at work. She taught me to read lips. The crazy beard beside him says he抎 give up his other leg and both arms to see his son again.?
揙ther leg? Does that mean he gave up one leg already??
揑 don抰 know. Can抰 tell from here, but the best I can follow, it seems like maybe he did,?she says.
I don抰 need her lip reading to process what happens next.
Lincoln drops a hand on the stranger抯 shoulder. He says something with a gentle, heartfelt expression. His head is tilted down, and Eliza can抰 read his lips.
But the other guy smiles for the first time since we抳e been here, and Lincoln doesn抰 immediately move his hand. The billionaire jackass certainly doesn抰 treat the homeless guy like an untouchable.
I抦 stunned.
Also, a little humbled.
...hadn抰 I called him entitled? Repeatedly?
But catching Lincoln Burns in this parallel reality makes it harder to hate him for his rotten behavior.
That抯 not a good thing.
It抯 like I can feel a big, jagged piece of my defenses falling down and crashing to bits.
They抮e talking again. I paw at Eliza抯 arm like a hungry puppy.
揥hat抯 he saying now??I whisper.
揃ossholio抯 asking梟o, more like begging梩he homeless guy to...come home with him? What the hell??
Yeah, I抦 lost.
Charity is one thing, but that makes zero sense.
It抯 hard enough to reconcile this scene with the self-absorbed fiend from the coffeeshop and the prying tyrant at the office. But this is beyond anything I imagined.
Everything I thought I knew about this gorgeous, bad-tempered freak is officially upended.
I don抰 need Eliza to read lips to know the homeless man isn抰 impressed by this invitation. He lurches up and shoves Lincoln away with what looks like harsh words. Then he disappears inside the tent behind them and zips it up.
I glance at Eliza. 揙uch. Was he a dick about it when he invited the guy to come stay with him??
She shakes her head slowly.
揌e wasn抰. Not at all.?
揃ut棓
Eliza shrugs. 揑 don抰 get it either.?
With an angry look, Lincoln picks up an old coffee can beside the tent and shoves a wad of bills in it before slamming the lid back on.
揌e gives them money, too??
揕ooks like it,?Eliza whispers.
He puts his hand in front of his face like he抯 keeping the sun out of his eyes and surveys the line of trees at the back of the park. When he turns our way, I duck down, even though I think桰 hope梬e抮e too far away to see.
揙h, crap. What抯 he doing??I whisper.
揘ot sure,?she says.
But the second he starts toward us, panic.
揇id he see us? Eliza? There抯 no reason for him to come this way...?
揑 don抰 think so.?
揧eah, well, I抳e seen enough. Time for that bike ride!?I run back a few paces to grab my bike, hop on, and pedal as fast as I can through the trees to get the hell out of here.
I抦 not even sure where I抦 going. I just need to stay out of sight, to avoid being caught by Burns after I eavesdropped on such an intimate moment.
I barely remember to look back to see Eliza behind me, straining to catch up.
Monday morning, I drag myself out of bed and get dressed.
I抦 about to bike to Sweeter Grind when I remember that抯 not my job this week.
I can go straight to the office today, get to work, and梕njoy a visit to the principal抯 office, apparently. One look at my phone has me frowning. It抯 barely the buttcrack of dawn and Lincoln Burns is already in my texts, scolding me.
Come straight to my office when you arrive, he says. I have your breakfast. We need to talk.
Awesome.
What now? I send back, my fingers punching the screen.
Lincoln: We抣l talk when you get here.
Awesome again, staying mired in suspense.
Twenty minutes later, I get to the office as fast as my body can move those wheels. Anger is a hell of a workout.
Burns leans against his office door, filling the space like an annoyed bear protecting its den.
揘evermore,?he says coldly. 揃reakfast inside.?
揟hank you.?I give him the world抯 fakest smile.
I walk into his office, brushing his massive chest as I slide past and hold in a sigh.
No bad case of the Mondays ever felt so dire.
He closes the door behind us and moves to his desk with a single word.
揝it.?
揧our wish is my command,?I say flippantly, flopping down in the chair across from him. 揥hat抯 wrong now? You said my work was stellar.?
He slides my coffee and cinnamon roll across the table like some grizzled cop in the movies giving the hotshot rookie his badge.
揧our work is unimpeachable. That抯 not why we抮e here,?he tells me, pushing his massive hands against the desk.
He抯 good at this whole intimidation act, I抣l give him that. Too bad for him that抯 never really worked on me.
揥hy are you so pissed then??I ask.
揚issed? Is that what you think??
揈r桰抦 not sure what we抮e talking about,?I throw out, taking a huge bite of cinnamon roll heaven. Mostly so I have a reason to not look at him.
He opens his desk, pulls out a napkin, and slides it over.
揧ou have frosting on your mouth.?
While swallowing, I take the napkin cautiously and wipe my face, trying to decipher that look in his eyes. God, what is his deal today?
Is this about the park?
His nostrils flare as he draws in a deep breath and says, 揊or someone who doesn抰 like people rummaging around in her personal life, you have no issue digging in mine. How interesting.?
Boom. Hammer, meet head.
The way he calls it interesting certainly feels like a cranial blow.
...so he might be a tad better at the whole intimidation schtick than I gave him credit for.
揢mm梱ou mean because I called you close to midnight on Friday??I try, praying that抯 it. 揕ook, bossman, I抦 sorry. I thought it was fine because we just talked.?
揇o I hire dumbasses, Nevermore??he grinds out.
I抦 taken aback by the question and sit up straighter, mostly so I don抰 rock back in my seat.
揢m, no??I blink. 揑抦 not sure what you抮e getting at...?
Is this some weird backhanded insult? Is he calling me a dumbass?
揧ou know what I抦 talking about. And because you抮e not a dumbass, that means you抮e a terrible liar,?he growls.
Holy hell.
I scratch my chin, averting my eyes before I meet the steel trap of his gaze again.
揗r. Burns, I have no fricking clue what you mean. But let抯 say I did梬hich I don抰梑ut if I did, we抎 be even because you dug first...wouldn抰 we??
揘o, ma抋m. We are so far from even you couldn抰 get there by jet.?He lifts one big hand and places it in the other, loudly cracking his knuckles.
揅an you just tell me what you think I did??I sputter. 揑 just...I don抰 like games. Spit it out.?
揝talking the boss is a serious offense.?
My heart skips. I hate how my blush betrays me more than words ever could.
揥hat? Because of my Google-fu??An exaggerated laugh falls out of me. 揗aybe don抰 wind up on the internet and I won抰 read about you??
I know I抦 playing with fire. But I抦 going to make him say it.
If he saw me, I want to hear it from his lips.
揌ow about you and Tweedle Dum following me to the park on your day off? Ring a bell??His voice is a quiet storm.
Yeah, I抦 so not ready.
His look cuts me in two, so hot and glaring it抯 like he抯 stripping me naked right here in this office.
揟he park...what makes you think it was me??
揧ou抮e whispering, for one, and that isn抰 something you do,?he says, stabbing up a finger midair. 揟wo, you don抰 think the blond ponytail gave it away? I抎 know that hair anywhere, Nevermore. Do not bullshit me.?
揥ait, wait, wait,?I mutter, waving my hands frantically. 揟hat抯 your evidence? A blond chick in a city of almost a million people happens to be at the park with you, so it must be me? And that must mean I抦 stalking you? I抦 in awe. I never thought I抎 meet Sherlock Holmes.?
He isn抰 impressed.
Neither am I, honestly.