* * *
Linc spent the morning in a meeting with Brian and, through Zoom, their accountants. They’d found discrepancies in the business accounts. And now that Linc knew Wallace had been helping his father funnel money somewhere to fund deals nobody had been aware of, things began to make sense. Which didn’t mean they knew where the missing money had gone.
Linc hired forensic accountants to dig deep, and if Wallace didn’t show his face soon, Linc would hire a private investigator to find him, as well. His blood pressure must be sky-high because inside he felt ready to explode in anger and frustration. Wallace had obviously taken advantage of his father’s condition. To what end, Linc had no idea, but he was sure the man had filled his pockets with company money, probably taking a cut of whatever Kenneth had going on.
Lunchtime arrived, and Jordan ordered Linc food while she went out to pump Suzanne for information. He took note of the relieved expression on her face when she told him they wouldn’t be going out for lunch today.
Fine with him. There was always tomorrow.
He intended to use the free time to his advantage. After finishing his sandwich, he rose and slipped his suit jacket on. It was time to confront Beck. It had been a while since they’d had a civil conversation of any kind, and he sure as hell didn’t expect one now.
Over the years, they’d run into each other at charity events and industry functions, but Beck would merely glare. As far as Linc was concerned, he’d already done his mea culpa and had punished himself plenty. He might feel bad but he refused to grovel. His actions back then hadn’t been intentional.
Linc never believed the fact that he and Beck ended up in the same business and competing against each other for building and land deals had been part of some master plan of revenge. Beck had always wanted to make money and use real estate to accomplish his goal. But whether this particular deal with Linc’s father was simply good business or an opportunity to get back at Linc, he didn’t know.
He arrived at Beck’s office in Lower Manhattan, his mood foul not just from the issue at hand but the ridiculous amount of traffic Max had hit while driving downtown. Linc hadn’t called or made an appointment on purpose, not wanting to give his nemesis time to prepare.
Instructing Max to wait, Linc walked into the entrance, impressed despite himself. Beck owned the entire building, which had a 1930s hotel-like feel, with polished concrete floors, black-steel-framed windows, and brushed brass fixtures. It was glamorous and completely unlike the Kingston Enterprises décor. Linc’s offices and the rental models Chloe designed were more traditional than this admittedly cooler look. Chloe had often asked Linc to allow her to mix things up, but he preferred to play it safe when it came to most things. Safe sold.
A doorman directed him to the top floor, where Beck Realty’s offices were located. The rest of the building, he rented to other businesses.
Stepping off the elevator, he was facing a grand marble desk with a pretty woman sitting behind it.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“I’m here to see Mr. Daniels.”
The woman met his gaze. “Do you have an appointment, Mr.…?”
“Kingston. Linc Kingston, and no, I don’t, but he’ll see me.” Linc was certain.
Apparently the brunette behind the desk didn’t agree, her expression skeptical as she picked up the phone and dialed. “A Mr. Linc Kingston is here to see Mr. Daniels,” she said, pursing her red lips. She waited, tapping her nails on the desk. “What? He will?” she asked, obviously surprised. “Thank you.”
Glancing up, she said, “Mr. Daniels’s secretary will be out in a moment to take you to his office.” With that pronouncement, she looked Linc over, now interested in who would get past her to see the king without an appointment.
Linc didn’t crack a smile back. He wasn’t in the mood.
Delicate footsteps sounded, and he looked up in time to see another young woman, this one with auburn hair, walking down a hall and stopping at the desk. “Mr. Kingston?”
“Yes.”
“Right this way, please.” She gestured for him to follow her, and he did, winding his way past other offices and windows with a fabulous view of Manhattan before stopping behind a closed door with Beck’s name on it.
“You can go in,” she said before taking her seat behind her desk.
Linc drew a deep breath and walked in without knocking first and shut the door behind him. He didn’t want an audience for this conversation.
Ready for him, Beck stood behind his desk. “Linc.” A smug smirk settled on his face, visible despite the heavy scruff of beard.
“Beck.”
“I was sorry to hear about your father,” Beck said.
Considering the man stood to gain in Kenneth’s absence, Linc wasn’t so sure, but since he sounded sincere, Linc nodded. “Thank you.”