On the Shore (Cottonwood Cove, #3)(79)

“He gets to go into the interview with you?” she asked.

“He does.” Brinkley chuckled. “I have that story I wrote about him, and they want to print it, as well as offer me a long-term position. But I think with the story being about Lincoln, they requested that he be there, too.”

I had red flags going off that they’d asked me to come along. It was not the norm, and as far as I knew, they didn’t know we were a couple. The one thing Breen fucking Lockhart hadn’t done was expose our relationship, which I was grateful for. Not because I didn’t want it out there, but because I wouldn’t want to do anything to hurt her career. So, in my opinion, it was odd that they’d asked her to bring me along to the interview. Brinkley had a one-track mind, and Sports Today was what she considered the gold standard of her profession, and she wanted it. She wasn’t going to question anything they asked of her, but I sure as fuck would.

“I know you want to work there, but I think it will be hard for you guys to live so far apart,” Tia said as she tucked her hair behind her ear.

“We’ll do whatever we need to do,” Brinkley said.

“Oh, man, you guys are so freaking cute. Well, big news. I broke up with Leo. He never makes time for me.”

I raised a brow. Teenage dating advice was not really my strong suit, and it was the last thing I wanted to talk about.

“How’s the weather?” I asked, and they both laughed.

“We’ll talk about Leo later, when it’s just us,” my girlfriend said. I loved that she’d made such an effort to get to know Romeo and Tia. It meant a lot to me.

“Perfect. Call me later.” She blew us a kiss and ended the call.

“She reminds me so much of myself at that age,” Brinkley said.

“Damn, baby. I would have been all over you when I was a horny teenage boy.”

She moved toward me, standing between my legs as I sat at the kitchen table. “And now you’re just a horny man, huh?”

I laughed. “Only for you.”

And that was the damn truth.





twenty-nine





Brinkley





“I need this to go well,” I whispered as we rode the elevator up to the top floor. We’d stayed at Lincoln’s penthouse apartment in the city last night. He said he wasn’t going to put it on the market until we knew where I’d be living. If I took the job here, I’d stay at his place, and we’d travel back and forth.

“You have nothing to worry about. You have a story they want. A writing style that they’ve already said they were impressed by. You already have a great offer from Football Live, and you have another interview coming up. The ball is in your court. You don’t need them, baby. They’d be lucky to have you.”

“I know, but I want this one. I’ve dreamed of working here since I was a teenager.”

He nodded. “Just hear them out, and don’t settle for less than you deserve.”

“You’d like them to make me a crappy offer, wouldn’t you?” My voice was all tease, but I could tell it had rubbed him wrong.

“I want this for you, as long as it’s right. I’ve told you that we’ll make it work, no matter what happens.”

“I was kidding. But obviously, it would be easier for you if I just came to New York with you.” I shrugged. “I wish they were located out there.”

“Whatever it is, you know that I support you.”

“I know.” I remained a few feet from him in the elevator. “We have to keep things professional right now, but I’ll be kissing you real hard in an hour.”

“Don’t tease me, sweetheart.” He raised a brow just as the doors opened, and he motioned for me to step off first.

I wore my favorite black pencil skirt, a white blouse, and a black suit coat. My hair was pulled into a neat chignon, and I’d changed shoes three times because I wanted everything to be perfect. I’d settled on nude stilettos. I wanted this so badly I could taste it.

I didn’t know why they’d asked Lincoln to come. I didn’t want to make it a big deal because he’d seemed uncomfortable when I’d told him. But I had written a story about him, and they wanted it. That was part of the deal. I’d never worked with a magazine of this caliber, so as far as I knew, this could be perfectly standard to bring a client along.

“You must be Brinkley Reynolds.” The receptionist was in her mid-thirties, tall with blonde hair, and she had a friendly smile. Her eyes moved to the handsome man beside me. “And you’re Lincoln Hendrix. I’m a huge fan.”

I chuckled when Lincoln scowled before quickly forcing a smile. He didn’t want the attention to be on himself today because he knew how much this day meant to me. The woman led us down a hallway and knocked on the door before we stepped into a large conference room.

There were three men in suits who came around the table and approached Lincoln first. They all shook his hand and stood there gaping at him. I sensed his discomfort immediately. I shook it off. They ran a sports magazine, and he was an icon on the field. It was fair that they were excited to meet him.

I wasn’t going to let anything ruin this day.

“This is the star of the show, Brinkley Reynolds,” he said, holding his hand out to me.