I stare slack-jawed at the woman who birthed me, and wonder how I managed to make it out of that house without turning into my brother. It’s no wonder he’s the way he is. “His bank account?” Sarcasm and venom lace the words.
She raises her chin in defiance. “His loyalty.”
“You threatened to bleed him dry if he left and told him he’d never see his children again. There was no loyalty there. Maybe he pitied you, or maybe he feared that leaving us with you would destroy us. He took the only option you gave him. You divided his entire life, and if you attempt to blackmail Wren, or me, or anyone else I know, I will expose you for the manipulative con artist you are.”CHAPTER 26ANOTHER FRESH STARTLINCOLNI’d like to say the weeks following the confrontation with Gwendolyn were easy, but that would be a lie, and I’ve dealt with enough of those for a lifetime. I bought out her company shares—turns out she wanted the money more than the headache of having to deal with me on a regular basis.
My brother imploded, as he often does, and ended up going on a bender that landed him in prison, thanks to an indecent exposure charge, reckless driving, and a DUI. Since the contract with my father had long expired and the one Wren signed for Gwendolyn was considered void once she was bought out, there was no obligation for Wren to help manage what was or wasn’t leaked all over social media. When Armstrong screws up, he doesn’t half-ass it. No amount of bandaging could keep him under the media radar.
While my mother was busy trying to manage the mess from the sidelines, I gave a public statement indicating my brother was struggling with the demands of Moorehead and the loss of our father, and he would be taking some time off while he sought help. In doing that, I recognized that I was fully prepared to embrace the role of CEO of Moorehead. And in a lot of ways I already had, I just needed to acknowledge it outside of my head. Leaving New York wasn’t an option anymore, not with a company that needed a real leader, and of course, New York had Wren.
Senator Sterling obliterated any chance at being blackmailed when he blew the lid off his own “scandal.” It was a well-orchestrated media leak in which paperwork regarding paternal rights and Wren’s birth father agreeing to sign his over appeared on one of the biggest gossip sites.
He followed up the media firestorm with a press conference in which he openly spoke about his love for his daughter and his wife, and how they’d dealt with the circumstances at the time. It wasn’t easy for any of them, but being the charismatic, devoted family man he is, the senator was able to spin the entire thing so he shouldered the blame and made Wren their saving grace. He followed it up by setting up a charity event to revitalize an adoption center in Haiti that had been destroyed in a recent hurricane. His poll numbers have skyrocketed since it all came out.
Two weeks after the media circus, I decide Wren and I need a break from everything, so I book us a weekend at a cabin three hours upstate. I’m in the middle of going through her bag to make sure she has all the things I like—it’s totally fair, considering she pretty much dresses me every day like I’m an oversize toddler—when my phone rings.
“It better not be work-related.” I snatch the device up from the bed, and my heart stutters as the name Hope appears on my screen. Jacqueline gave me her number and I reached out recently, but until now, I haven’t heard from her.
Wren comes up behind me and wraps her arms around my waist, one hand slipping low as her lips move against the back of my neck. “Do you need me to answer and say you’re indisposed?” Normally I’d be all over whatever she’s offering, but right now, I have to take a rain check.
“I need to get this,” I choke out.
“Is everything okay?” Wren ducks under my arm and looks at the screen. “Oh my God.” She takes me by the shoulders, turns me around, and forces me to sit down. “I’m right here if you need me. Go ahead and answer.”
I swallow, take a deep breath, and bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Hello, hi, um, is this Lincoln?”
“It is.” God, my mouth is dry. “This is Hope?”
“Yes. Yeah. Sorry. I, uh … got your message last week. I’m sorry it took me so long to get back to you, I just … this isn’t … I don’t know how to do this.”
“Me either, so I think we’re on even ground with feeling awkward.”