Harsh. Is this what’s driving Lincoln into hiding? Hostile work environment?
“I doubt that’ll be an issue,” I say softly.
“Have you heard from him?”
I shake my head, mouthing a no.
“Well, probably for the best. He can’t cause more drama that way, but I do hope he clears the air before he shows his face around here again. The tension is so freaking thick it’s stifling.”
“That would be great, but don’t get your hopes up, Anna.”
“He’s barely been back since the day it all went down—”
“I heard.”
“He came in the next day and left early in a rush. He hasn’t been back since and he’s never been out like this before. The message he sent was so vague. Some kind of 'personal emergency.' I sent a response to let me know if he needed anything, but he never even replied.”
My heart sinks in confusion.
I don’t even know how to hash that.
“I think he just wants the scandal gone before he comes back,” I say, echoing my conversation with Cheryl.
“No point in waiting then. This weird extended absence after the incident has got people talking nonstop, especially since you were out for a few days, too.” She sighs like she’s legit overloaded from the drama flying around.
I can’t even blame her.
“Do you think people would look at me again and stop treating me like a pariah if Burns came back?” I ask.
She lays her elbow on her desk and rests her head on her hand.
“No one thinks you’re a pariah, Dakota. They just feel bad for you and don’t know what to say. We’ve never run into this situation before.”
“That’s almost worse.”
She sighs. “I know. I’m sorry. But to answer your question, I think it would lighten things up if he came back and restored some normalcy. It’s pretty cowardly for him to let you deal with the aftermath alone. But like I said, the email was vague, and he’s never been out unscheduled before, so something might be wrong.”
Something is wrong.
He doesn’t want to deal with the dumpster fire he caused, and he doesn’t care if it burns me alive.
“Thanks, Anna. I’ll keep working from here. We can’t both be ghosting the place. But as long as he’s out, I’ll be down here at my old desk. It doesn’t make sense to linger upstairs with no one to assist while I’m still doing Lucy’s job.”
“However you want to play it. I’m sure the acting CEO won’t have a problem either if this turns into an extended absence on his part. Say, do you want a coffee before you head back out? I can order from the place up the street.”
“No, I’m well caffeinated.”
“Go be the best wordsmith ever so that jackass knows you’re better than him,” she says with a ruthless smirk.
You’ve got to love her energy.
Somehow, I don’t think I’m a better anything than a princely CEO.
Once I’m at my desk, I decide to get this over with and text the loser.
Yeah, I know.
I’m supposed to wait. Let him come to me. Play the game.
I’ve already forgotten about him, but if Anna thinks his sorry ass returning will make people act normal around me again, he’s going to hear about it.
Why aren’t you at work? I send.
He doesn’t answer.
Hours go by, and I’m more annoyed by the minute. By the end of the day, I can’t resist a follow-up text.
You could show your face. It’s not a good look vanishing like this. Everyone thinks you’re a coward.
Surprise, surprise. He doesn’t answer that one either, maintaining radio silence.
At five thirty, Cheryl stops by and says, “Don’t tell me you’re staying here all night?”
“I was out for a while. I have plenty to make up,” I lie.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. If you’re behind, we’ll help you catch up.”
“Thanks.”
She looks at me for a long moment without speaking before she finally says, “Maybe someone should call his mom.”
Oh my God.
That’s the last thing I want.
“Why?” I look up, meeting her eyes.
“He’s just never out like this. What if it’s more than Burns having a hissy fit? If you haven’t heard from him, something could be wrong—”
“I doubt that. He made his opinion of me perfectly clear.”
“You’re probably right,” she says weakly before slipping away.
He sledgehammered my heart in front of the entire team, and by not showing up, he’s making it worse. Now Cheryl feels sorry for him.
On the way home, I stop at Sweeter Grind. The jackass might not respond to my texts, but I happen to know he frequents this coffee shop.
I order the largest caramel latte they have and bunker down at a table, waiting to see if he shows up. This is usually one of the evenings when he makes his cinnamon roll runs for Wyatt.
I wait for nearly an hour before I can’t stand it.
No sign of Lincoln Burns.