Breathe Page 8

  “Siete pronti per ordinare, sir? (Are you ready to order, sir?)

  “Sì. La madonna ci sono i Ravioli con Mela e avrò il Filetto di Manzo del Re.” (Yes. The lady will have the Ravioli con Mela and I will have the Filet di Manzo del Re.) Again, perfect Italian.

  That's so hot.

  “Grazi.” Albert nods to both of us and walks away with our menus.

  Lincoln watches Albert leave while eating a piece of the prosciutto wrapped asparagus then brings his eyes back to me. “So, Grace, what do you do when you’re not being a hot little socialite?” He is clearly obsessed with this question, which gets me to let out a small giggle.

  Wait...he just called me hot again. This night just might be the best ever.

  “Well, let’s see.” I’ll give him the truth without telling too much. “I went to Princeton, like Daddy and one of my brothers, and majored in journalism. After graduating two years ago, I started working at ICON Magazine, but not before spending that summer at our house in Monaco. I spend most of my free time with my family and my puppy, Duritz.” I lean in just a bit like I'm telling a secret. “Yes, he's named after Adam Duritz from Counting Crows.” I lean back again. “And I have Rafe...er Rafe, of course, who demands a lot of my time as a high-maintenance best friend. I think he's actually more high-maintenance than me.” There. That’s a safe answer without cracking any of my glass walls. Hopefully that will tide him over.

  “That’s it?” He snickers.

  Damn.

  “What do you mean that’s it?” I nibble on an asparagus spear.

  “I’m thinking there’s more to you than meets the eye, Grace. More than what we all see in the magazines and Page Six or the gossip sites. More than I can get from Google.” His eyes are going straight through to my core.

  Stupid, sexy mind reading tricks.

  Plus, I’m sure as hell he’s asked Miles about me already and Lord knows my brother can’t keep his mouth shut. Miles usually tells people just enough to satisfy their curiosity where I’m concerned, but to a friend, he might indulge more.

  “Okay. If you must know more...” I pause to try and gather my thoughts quickly. So, here it goes. “I listen to all kinds of music and I love to read naughty romance novels. Not the kind with Fabio on the cover, the other kind. I believe Adam Duritz is a damn lyrical genius. I own all of the Counting Crows CD's. And yes, I still listen to CDs. Swearing is a constant in my vocabulary. I love the color pink so much that I wear something somewhere on my body every day in the color. Audrey Hepburn is everything. I love sappy movies, piano bars and karaoke. I have a lady crush on Amy Poehler. Jelly Bellys are like addictive little pills. Don't judge me, but my favorite actor is Steve Buscemi. I go to every Broadway show I can. Diet Coke is such a severe addiction I may develop ulcers soon. I think Red Bull really can give you wings. My hair is naturally this blonde, like my mother's, I just highlight it to give it a little something extra. Puppies make me feel gooey inside. And my one true secret that only Thomas knows,” I lean into table and whisper, “I know how to ride a motorcycle.” I put my pointer finger up to my lips in a shushing action. That little nugget has to stay silent or Daddy and my brothers will have simultaneous heart attacks. “I know. Living on the edge, right?” I pull my finger away from my mouth and grin. “Oh, and I love lilies.”

  Clearly, I talk too much when I’m nervous.

  I'm out of breath and my armpits feel sweaty.

  Lincoln smiles and chuckles. I’m sure he thinks I’m a weirdo.

  I hear a faint noise.

  It's a glass wall breaking into shards.

  Real stupid, Grace.

  “Okay. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

  Umm...what?

  He slides his arm across the table leaving his hand palm up, still staring straight at me. “What else can you tell me about you? I’d like to know more.” He gives me another smile and I assume that it is a silent request to hold his hand. I accept and lift one of mine from my lap and place it in his. And there it is like every other time our hands have touched...the tingles.

  Does he feel it too?

  As I gaze down at our clasped hands I notice how well they fit together; my delicate right and his muscular left. I notice a few scrapes and bruises on the knuckles. Very manly. Even his hand is sexy. I can feel myself flush again.

  “What are you thinking about?” He squeezes my hand.

  I lie. “Nothing really.” I surrender myself to his stare once again and regain what little composure I can. “So, tell me what exactly it is you do?” I know the answer but I need something to talk about besides myself.

  “Well, let’s see.” He pretends to contemplate his answer by rubbing his right index finger on his chin. “As you know I have the bar in Jersey City. I also have one in Boston. That one was my first. I’m a silent partner in a restaurant there with a buddy from Harvard. I also have a stake in a winery up in Maine. Then there's the boxing gym in Brooklyn I co-own with another friend of mine.” He grins at me like he’s telling me his trade secret. “And the best and most recent business adventure I have is the night club here in Manhattan.”

  “Here? Would I know it?”

  “Mercury. On 85th.”

  “Colorblind and Mercury. I see a pattern here. Are you a Counting Crows fan, too?”

  “You caught me. I've seen every concert they've put on in the City or in Jersey since I was seventeen. Those guys are amazing. I get what he feels in each of the songs. ‘Colorblind’ almost describes my life to a tee.”

  I smile at this similarity between us and take another drink. I've always thought that song was written about me.

  “I was at Mercury a few weekends ago with a group of friends.”

  He looks over my shoulder, lets go of my hand and leans back in his chair. Albert brings our entrees and sets each one carefully in front of us. Lincoln gives him a simple nod of acceptance and he scoots off again.

  “I know.” Lincoln says, looking square at me, smiling mischievously, “I saw you there.”

  Chapter Eight

  “You were there that night?” I set my silverware back down on the plate and grab the wine glass instead. I take a large gulp. I'm sure I don’t look very ladylike.

  “Grace, don’t look so surprised. It’s my club after all. I spend a lot of time there.”

  “Sure. Of course.” I take another drink of the wine.

  I felt I was being watched over by more than just Miles that night. Was he the other set of eyes? The thought gives me goosebumps.

  “I talked to Miles that night actually.” He begins to cut and eat his filet like a gentleman. “We hadn’t seen each other in a year or so. I spotted him with Briar and we talked for quite some time. We were pretty good friends back at Harvard, so it was good to catch up.”

  “Where was I when this reunion was happening?” I’m slightly annoyed.

  “Off with Rafe on the dance floor. Not much for Miles to worry about so he hung around me and my friends for a while.” He takes another bite. “He sure loves you, you know. He talked about you a lot that night. I feel I got to know you without us even meeting. He always seems to have an eye on you.”

  “How embarrassing.” I lower my head to hide my red tinted face. “Miles needs to shut the hell up.” If you didn’t know he was my brother you would think he was obsessed with me.

  “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

  “We’re really close even though he's four years older than me. He’s pretty protective with me being the only sister.”

  “Your whole family seems to be that way with you. Tell me about them.” He takes another bite.

  Hasn’t Miles told him enough?

  To not seem like a complete bitch, I oblige him and inhale a small breath. “Well, there’s Daddy. Who I’m sure you know quite a bit about with him having the status he has. Then there’s Parker, my oldest brother. He has a wife, Melanie. They met at Princeton and have two children; Finn is five and Lillian is two. You already know Miles.
Landon, you might know a little. He went to Harvard, too.” Lincoln nods. “He’s two years older than me and has a girlfriend, June. He and my friend Briar kind of had a thing a few summers ago, but that's long over. Then there’s my little brother Asher. He’s fifteen.”

  I lift the wine glass and take a much daintier sip than the gulps I took earlier. “He’s staying with me for a while.”

  “Sounds like the perfect family.”

  “Well, we're not exactly the Rockefeller's. It’s an interesting family to be in that's for sure. Nothing much to complain about, except for the over protectiveness, I guess.” I can’t help but giggle a little at that. “But then there’s my extended family. Rafe and Briar. They’re my two best friends from college. I don’t do much without one or both of them. I try to keep my circle very small.”

  “Am I part of the circle now?”

  I blush. “We'll see how this night goes.”

  He laughs. “That Briar is quite protective of you as well, huh? She seems like a hard ass. I respect that.”

  “She is. She helped me through something our sophomore year that I don't think I could ever repay her for. Let's just say the guy never knew one girl could make his balls hurt so bad.”

  “I'll remember that. And to cover my balls around her.” He laughs again. “And Rafe. He's a good guy?”

  “He’s the best friend I’ve ever had.” I always feel the need to explain my relationship with Rafe to everyone. I mean, not many people understand it. “We met our freshman year at Princeton. He sat in the seat next to me in a class we had together. We became fast friends. He understood me like no one else did. It wasn't about being friends with Grace Stratton. It was about us, and what we had in common and how we were with each other. He barely knew who I was anyway; he's from the west coast. It was about being friends with just me. His friendship snuck up on me and scared me at first by how quickly we latched onto each other. We've been inseparable since. He knows everything about me; the good, the bad, and the ugly. He’s never let me down and never held me to a higher standard because of the family's status. He doesn't expect anything from me either. No one has ever treated me the way he does, like I’m normal. He's my Rafe.” I shrug. “And he’s never left me. I've had a lot of friends come and go because of who I am. They get what they want out of the friendship and take off. He's not like that and has always been there when I've needed him. He’s fought for me and I’ve fought for him. It’s what we do.”

  I’m out of wine. I need more wine.

  Lincoln notices my staring at the empty stemware and pours more into it for me.

  Sexy voodoo mind tricks.

  “Sounds like my kind of guy.” I can tell he likes the thought of Rafe now. I nod in agreement.

  “What about you? You know about my family now. It’s only fair I hear about yours.” I hate talking about me. I’m craving some Lincoln info.

  He gives me a sideways smile. “I have two parents.” He tries to joke, but I don't get it. “My sister Hayes is something, huh?” I snicker this time. “She can talk to anyone at any time, in any situation. She has a twin, Harrison. They’re both twenty-six. And then there’s the little man, Kennedy. He's almost eleven.”

  “Oh. A ten-year-old?”

  “Yeah. He's a great kid.”

  “What about the other two? Tell me about them.”

  “Hayes works as a buyer for high-end clothing retail. Harrison works in Washington, DC, so he's not around too much. He’s on track to follow in my father’s footsteps.”

  “What does your father do?”

  He gives me an inquisitive look. “You mean you don’t know who he is?”

  “Should I?” I’m confused. I quickly search the data-base in my brain, but I don’t recall any Prescott’s.

  He takes a pause and sighs. “He’s Grant Prescott. An ex-senator from the great state of New Jersey,” He says sarcastically making an irritated face. This must be a sore spot. “I grew up with him in politics. It’s in our family’s bloodline. His father was in the House of Representatives in the eighties.” He quietly laughs to himself. “I mean, he did name us kids after former Presidents. I majored in Politics at Harvard because that’s what he bred me to do. Harrison did the same at Yale just like my father, but he actually went into it as a career. Hayes never had any interest in politics in the first place so she was always safe. After graduation, I realized it wasn’t for me. I wanted more than that life. And I had other obligations that were more important than wheeling and dealing with politicians.” He stops abruptly and continues eating, as do I. After a few bites in silence he adds, “My mom accepted it. She always wanted me to do something I loved. Dad is still disappointed and hasn’t gotten over it even though it’s been more than six years since graduation. We’ve had many disagreements about the life I lead now. My obligations still stand, but I continue to help him out with some of the family business. More for my mom's sake than his.”

  “Why is he an ex-senator? Did he lose his seat?”

  “He didn't run in the last election due to...” He stops to clear his throat. “Due to family issues. He only does consulting now. His hobbies fill up the rest of his time.”

  The mood has gotten heavy. I can't think of anything to say to lighten things up.

  Light bulb!

  “So, Linc.” I lay my silverware on the plate and look at him with a smirk of my own. “What do you do when you’re not being a hot shot entrepreneur?”

  Yep...two can definitely play this game.

  He laughs. “Lots of things.”

  Touché.

  Damn, he’s good at this game.

  “Truthfully, I work hard and a hell of a lot so there’s not much time for anything else. But when I’m not working, I spend it with Kennedy. Or my other buddies; mostly at the gym doing guy stuff.”

  “Guy stuff? Sounds very macho,” I say playfully.

  “Well, I’m a macho kind of guy.” I’ve got him smiling again.

  He tells me about his two best friends, Calvin and Brody, and what it’s like to run his different businesses. He asks about the magazine and working for Daddy. We talk and laugh and drink (two empty bottles prove that). We’re purely enjoying each other’s company.

  Albert comes to the table right on cue as we finish our meal. “Tutti i dessert per i due di voi questa sera, sir?” (Any dessert for the two of you tonight, sir?) Albert asks.

  “Any dessert for you tonight, Grace?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Non questa sera. Grazie, Albert.” (Not tonight. Thank you, Albert.) Lincoln replies as he takes his credit card out of his wallet and hands it to him. Albert once again nods to us and goes on his way. “So, do you need to get home or can I convince you to stay out with me for a while.”

  I feel flush again.

  Hell, yeah.

  “I can stay out for a while.”

  Albert comes back with the slip for Lincoln to sign. He does and Albert leaves us for the last time tonight. Lincoln stands, comes around the table behind me and pulls the chair away from the table so I can stand. Taking my hand, we walk towards the door stopping at the coat check to retrieve my coat. He takes it, moves behind me and helps to shrug it on over my narrow shoulders. He grabs my hand once more and we exit onto the sidewalk on Lexington Avenue. He leads me north.

  “Where are you taking me?” I ask curiously. I’m feeling warm from the wine, or from him. I’m not sure, but either way I like it.

  “I thought maybe we could go to Mercury. It’s Monday so the crowd will be smaller and more intimate.”

  “Sounds good to me.” I’d do anything to keep this night going. I'd go to the fucking moon if he asked me. I want more of him. More of his glances. More of his voice. More of his hands. More of his hotness.

  Just more.

  THE SIX-BLOCK WALK was not as bad as I thought it was going to be. Lincoln thought the clear night was too beautiful to waste and insisted we walk to our destination. Fall in the City is beautiful, but coo
l when the sun goes down. I didn’t mind the cold, however, because it meant I could cuddle up to Lincoln while we made our way to his club. With his arm around my shoulders, he pulled me into him to keep me warm while keeping his other hand free to smoke a cigarette.

  Mmm. Warm indeed.

  We came up to the main entrance of Mercury and, of course, just walked right in. But not before Lincoln gave the giant man standing out front a firm hand shake and a pat on the back. Once inside he escorted me through a door in the back corner and up a flight of stairs. We walk past several offices and then enter what I assume is his. He helps me out of my coat once more and hangs it on a rack next to the door.

  “Would you like to go out there?” I can sense the excitement in his voice. “I want to show you off.”

  Stunned, all I can say is, “Yes.”

  He takes my hand again. I will never get tired of holding this man’s hand. Leading me back out into the open we head towards the bar along the right-side wall.

  “Hey Trish. Busy night for a Monday, huh?”

  “Oh, hey boss. Yeah. It’s great.” The model looking bartender replied as she accepted a kiss on the cheek from Lincoln across the counter. He still hasn’t let go of my hand. “What can I get you?”

  He turns to me. “What would you like to drink, Grace?”

  “Anything is fine.” I’m a bit distracted, taking in the cool, modern atmosphere. The wide-open space is lit with stylish, contemporary pendants hanging from the high ceiling. Several small tables are scattered on the outskirts of the glowing dance floor. Random couches, loveseats and oversized chairs are strewn about in no particular manner. The long bar is lit from underneath and has metal bar stools lining the front of it. On the other side is a good-sized stage where Linc says he has cool local bands play. The colors are pale, but with the lighting, the club looks like nothing I've seen before. When I was here before I never really paid attention to the look of it.