Page 74 of Whistleblower

“Eden,” Linc says.

I dump the confetti pieces on an empty bread plate and push it to the edge of the table so the waiter can collect it and dispose of it.

“Would you be open to sharing dessert? Because if we want the chocolate soufflé, we have to order it now. I’m assuming they make it from scratch, which will take a while.”

“Eden?” Linc asks again, nodding toward the bread plate littered with pink notecard scraps. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, it doesn’t matter what the answers are—I’m in. If you want to be with me, I want to be with you too. No conditions.”

“It’s not just kids. I’m not allowed to get married, either.”

I shrug. “Changing my name always seemed like such a hassle anyway.”

“I’ll have to leave a lot.”

“As long as you come back.”

“I’d have to move you sometimes, for my peace of mind. A new home every few months.”

“I’m good with travel.”

He shakes his head at me, seemingly in amazement. Bring it on, Linc. I’ve got an answer for everything.

“Your life with me wouldn’t be normal.”

“I’m an organizational leadership consultant for an off-the-record division of the FBI that unofficially employs assassins. Yesterday, I conducted a very illegal interrogation and helped stop a massacre by hand-feeding a criminal Doritos. My home is riddled with hidden cameras to catch a stalker in the wind who likely wants information about a terrorist scheme I helped uncover. And last but not least, last night, I let you fuck my cleavage until you came on my chest. I don’t think I do normal anymore.”

Without his gaze leaving mine, Linc raises two fingers in the air. Our waiter appears out of nowhere, likely more motivated by the promise of a very large tip.

“Yes, sir?” He’s sweating while holding a large tray in one hand filled with plates for another table. Linc smiles at me wide, his perfect teeth gleaming against the dim lights of the very romantic Italian restaurant.

“Will you please put in an order for a chocolate soufflé? My girlfriend wants dessert.”

TWENTY-SIX

EDEN

Linc’s home is like a mausoleum. It’s eerily minimalist, and that’s coming from a minimalist myself. He has so little furniture that my words are echoing off his dark gray walls. Outside of the barren, drafty ambiance, his place is magnificent. I shouldn’t be so surprised at the grandeur of the interior, seeing as the drive from the privacy gate to his front door was a good quarter mile of beautiful, hand-laid cobblestone, curving in a roundabout at the front of the entry.

Being from Silicon Valley, I am no stranger to men who are incredibly proud of their over-the-top homes. On my past dates, the walk from the car to the front door was a boring lecture on all the lawn and security upgrades they made to the property. We’d get through the door and I’d spend another ten minutes covering my yawn as I was informed that the kitchen marble is incredibly rare and was imported from Venice on a tugboat.

Linc’s home is brag worthy, but he’s not interested in peacocking. The only thing he keeps bragging about is how beautiful his new girlfriend is and how he’s going to rip her dress to shreds.

I’m torn. I want his raw, animalistic passion…but I also really like this dress. It’s a perfect mix of sexy and classy, and of course I brought out the showstopper for my first date with Linc. He’s A-game worthy.

Passing the foyer, we enter Linc’s kitchen, which is the size of my entire apartment.

“White or red, Bambi?” he asks, examining bottles on a metal wine rack.

“White, please,” I say distractedly, taking in the luxurious kitchen. Linc abandons the rack and opens a tall cabinet which turns out to be a hidden fridge. “Linc, are you rich?” I ask with my brows cinched in curiosity.

Uncorking a bottle of what looks like White Zinfandel, he pours two glasses and then points to the living room area behind me, silently instructing me to take a seat and get comfortable.

After handing me a glass, he sits down next to me on his oversized black leather sectional. His knee is touching my thigh, sending glorious anticipatory jitters up my leg. The kind of jitters you get when you know you’re about to have the best sex of your entire life. Nothing will match this night for the rest of my life, I’m sure of it. Not even another night with Linc, because this is the first time. It’s lust mixed with the tantalizing unknown. It’s the most seductive combination in the world and we’ll only have it once. No pressure.

“What’s rich to you?” he asks before taking a sip from his glass.

“Before my fall from grace, I thought I was doing pretty well for myself, but I could never afford a place like this, especially in this city.”

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