“She’s human; no one is nice all of the time. You’re a case in point, aren’t you, with your accusations yesterday and your current surly mood? However, when you’re drunk out of your mind, you’re quite entertaining, if not mildly inappropriate.”
He regards me for a few seconds, and his expression is somewhere between chagrined and defensive. “I don’t like the city. Or my immediate family, apart from my grandmother. I don’t want to be here, but I don’t want to make my grandmother’s life difficult, so I have to stay.”
“You’ve made the not-wanting-to-be-here part rather clear.” I set my phone in my lap, abandoning the social media account setup for the time being. “What does ‘hmm’ mean?” I ask again.
“It means hmm. I haven’t quite figured you out yet. Other than a hefty salary, I’m not sure why you’d put up with my brother for as long as you have. And my mother is a shrew, so it makes me wonder if yours is too.”
I look away, unable to handle his intensity. I love my mother, but she’s made some poor choices in her life, ones that have had an impact on who I am and how I view honesty and trust. As for his mother, until recently, I haven’t had to deal with Gwendolyn much during my time at Moorehead. She’s cold, but then lots of women in business present that way. I certainly don’t come across as warm and fuzzy, and for good reason; show Armstrong an iota of warmth, and he sees it as a green light for sexual advances.
“Having the Moorehead name on my resume will give me opportunities in the future. Your family donates to all the major charities, so I’m hoping after this I’ll be able to secure a PR position at one of them.” Then I’ll be able to do something meaningful.
“So, you want to work for a charity organization?”
“Yes.”
“Those positions don’t come with the kind of salary my family is paying you,” Lincoln says.
“It’s not about the money. My current salary will help me build a nest egg so I can eventually set up my own foundation. It’s about making a difference, not adding to my bank account, something I thought you might understand.”
He nods and taps his lip. “My family doesn’t donate because they’re altruistic. They do it because it helps the bottom line and gives them a tax break.”
As much as I don’t love Moorehead Media’s news slant, I at least thought they were genuinely invested in the charities they support. And maybe they are, maybe Lincoln’s wrong and he’s saying it to get a rise out of me.
“How can you say that? Your mother’s on the board of almost every notable charitable committee there is in the city.”
“She doesn’t do it because she cares; she does it because it gives her connections and makes my family look good.”
“And what about you?”
Lincoln drags his attention away from the window. “What about me?”
I’ve done all the research the internet will allow on Lincoln. What’s out there makes him look like a golden boy. “You’ve spent the past year in Guatemala working with foundations that support sustainable communities, and before that you were in China. Is that to make your family look good?”
Lincoln snorts derisively. “My whole family is a bunch of assholes. Except my cousin Griffin. And his brothers, they’re all good people.” He taps irritably on his leg.
“Griffin Mills, of Mills Hotels?” That family is richer than God.
“Yeah. I’m sure you’re familiar with the name, given what happened between my brother and him.”
I’m definitely familiar with Griffin since it was his ex-fiancée—who wasn’t an ex at the time—that ended up pregnant with Armstrong’s baby. It was the reason Fredrick hired me, actually, but I don’t bother to tell Lincoln that. “You’re close with Griffin?” That’s what Fredrick intimated last year, anyway, and the few pictures of them together in China seemed to confirm that.
“Yeah. He’s more like a brother than a cousin. We’ve worked on a few projects together over the years, but he’s heavy into the family business, so it’s harder for him to find the time.”
I probe a little more, trying to understand who this man is and what makes him tick, because it’s certainly not a suit fitting or the city. “Did you all grow up in New York together?”
Lincoln nods. “Yeah. We’re the same age, so we spent a lot of time together when we were young. If you haven’t noticed, Gwendolyn isn’t exactly maternal, so Armstrong and I were dealt with by nannies, and the other half of the time we were at our cousins’ house. At least until I was ten, and they shipped me off to boarding school.”
“Why boarding school?”
“To get me out of Gwendolyn’s hair? Who knows? My parents were fighting a lot at the time over my father’s inability to honor his marriage vows. Anyway, they put me in some program for the academic elite, or whatever. The tuition was probably absurd. It was better for me in the long run, since it got me out of that house and away from my family. Apart from holidays, I never really went back, until now, anyway.”