Chloe nodded. With one hand, she raised her fingers to her mouth and gestured that her lips were sealed.
“Good to know.”
“Okay, I need to get back to work. Behave yourself, Linc. I have a feeling you’re in over your head.” Chloe braced her hands on the desk and leaned in. “Jordan isn’t one of us. Not like you think.”
Narrowing his gaze, he asked, “What in the hell do you mean?”
“Listen.” Chloe sat back down in the chair, and he sensed a lecture coming on. “You and Jordan are best friends and always have been, but you’re a guy. And you don’t see what girls do. The way women in your social circle look at her because her mother was our maid. Jordan has access to you, and people in our world resent her.”
“Again, you mean other women resent her.”
Chloe nodded. “Jordan might dress in designer clothes, and she knows how to hold herself and behave at the club, but nobody sees her as anything other than the help’s daughter.”
Anger filled him at the truth of her statement. “What kind of bullshit is this our world?” he asked with quotes around the words.
Sure, her mother and his father believed they shouldn’t even be friends, but he’d had no idea there were more people who bought into the antiquated notion.
Chloe glanced down, her cheeks flushed. “It’s something insecure bitches use to distinguish themselves from smart, beautiful women like Jordan who make their own way in the world and do it well.”
At least his sister didn’t buy into social class distinctions. What a load of crap, and Linc ground his teeth in frustration.
“Jordan’s mother feels the same way. She’s always telling her she doesn’t belong with me. Not even as my friend.”
Chloe’s expression turned sad. “What about you? If you had to walk into a charity event or the club with Jordan on your arm, knowing what people would think and say, how would you feel?”
“Proud.” He knew the answer without thinking.
His sister’s smile was all the validation he needed. “Then go for it and I’ll be right by your side.” She came around and hugged him again. “Love you, Linc.”
“Love you back. Now go work.”
Chloe walked out and Linc glanced around his office. Chloe had given him a lot to think about when it came to Jordan. So much more made sense to him now. The morning after they’d last been together, he’d walked into the kitchen as she’d been hanging up the phone after a call from her mother.
He’d sensed immediately things had changed. As usual, Tamara had probably filled her head with her negative feelings about their relationship. If Tamara knew he was sleeping with her daughter, she would lose her mind. And Jordan knew it.
On top of that, according to Chloe, Jordan also felt she didn’t fit in. He shook his head at the thought. As if money made a person a decent human being. Jordan was worth ten times more than a dense, shallow woman like Angelica. So was Chloe. Money had nothing to do with it.
One thing was certain, Linc didn’t care what anyone thought.
Now how to convince Jordan?
* * *
Jordan packed her things up for the day. She hadn’t had a minute alone with Linc. He’d had back-to-back visitors throughout the afternoon, which wasn’t unusual. At the moment, he was on the phone with a potential lender, so she left him a text on his phone letting him know she was leaving and she would see him in the morning.
She headed out and decided to take the subway instead of an Uber or company car, needing the fresh air she’d get as she walked the three blocks to the station. She’d been light-headed this afternoon and a little queasy and had attributed it to only eating half her yogurt for lunch. After listening to Angelica’s play for Linc, she hadn’t felt like eating.
Knowing she was too tired to prep food, she stopped at the grocery store near her apartment and picked up a couple of precooked meals before going home. At least she’d have them for the week. Once home, she put the meals in the fridge and changed into a pair of soft sweats and the tee shirt she’d stolen from Linc. Nobody had to know she slept in it whenever it didn’t need to be washed.
She microwaved and ate the pasta she’d bought and settled herself into her couch, suddenly tired. When her cell rang, it woke her, and a glance at the phone told her she’d fallen asleep for over an hour.
She answered the call, which was her doorman. “Hello?”
“Good evening, Miss Greene. Mr. Kingston is here.”
She really should put him on her permanent list, but she liked the heads-up before anyone came over. It gave her a few minutes to … whatever. Clean up. Look in the mirror. “Send him up, please. Thank you.”