Page 72 of Roses in Summer

Gemma: Why aren’t you answering me?

Gemma: Lincoln, stop ignoring me.

Gemma: God, you’re so fucking annoying.

Gemma: So when can I come over?

I shake my head against the wall, annoyed by the badgering, the constant messages, and her inability to leave me alone.

Lincoln: Gemma, I told you I would mail them. I’m bringing them to the post office on Monday. You just need to tell me where to send them.

Even though she texted me an hour ago, she’s either on her phone or was waiting for my response because no sooner do I send the message than the bubbles indicating an incoming reply pop up. I watch, scowling at what the hell she’s going to come back with.

Gemma: My panties are too expensive to send in the mail, Lincoln. I’ll be over tomorrow morning.

“Fuck,” I curse, annoyance and anger lacing my tone. I don’t want to see Gemma, but if this is the only way to get her to stop texting me about her goddamn underwear, I’ll have to suck it up.

Scrolling through the rest of my messages, I bypass my group text with Grey and Dante, not interested in what either of them has to say right now. My eyes snag on a text from my dad, and I open it quickly, rolling my eyes at the contents.

Dad: Your mother expects you to be at brunch on Sunday.

Lincoln: Why couldn’t she text me herself?

Instead of a reply text, an incoming call pops up on my screen, and I swipe to answer it.

“Hey, Dad.”

“Have you met your mother?” he asks in his Louisiana drawl. “Just humor her and show up on Sunday. We’re going toLa Fontaineat eleven.”

“You know I’ll be there.” I huff.

“Good. Will you be bringing Gemma?” I cringe at his question.

“Mom didn’t tell you? We broke up.”

“She mentioned something, but I was on my way out of the house. Are you okay, son?”

“I’m fine. We ran our course.” I shrug as though he can see me. “Listen, I need to head back into the kitchen. Di threw me out of the kitchen for a minute, and she’s going to need some relief.”

“Lincoln.” My dad’s voice is sharp, a reprimand in his tone. “What did you do to that nice lady?”

I don’t hold back my scoff at my dad’s description of Diana as a “nice lady.” She’s vicious, especially in the kitchen, when she thinks I’m not carrying my weight, if I’m too distracted, or inadvertently causing a distraction. “Nothing. A table asked for a bullshit accommodation, and I didn’t like it. Diana sent me out of the kitchen to cool down.”

“Lincoln, remember your head. You’re irrational when your temper takes hold; you’re like your mother that way.”

“I know.” I sigh. “I’m calm.”

My dad doesn’t respond to my statement, but he does clear his throat just as I’m about to say my goodbyes. Looking out at the alley in front of me, I wait to hear what else my dad is going to come out with before he lets me get back to work.

“I ran into David—Mr. Gregori last week at the United Way gala. A client of his attended and invited him.”

“Oh.” Thanks to all his entertainment connections and influence within the celebrity management world, my father has standing invitations to some of the most sought-after events in the world. I’m not surprised he would go to a charity event, but I am surprised that Seraphina’s dad would be there since he’s a criminal prosecutor.

“He mentioned you were at his home for dinner last week. Why didn’t you mention it?”

I’m twenty-seven years old, but somehow, my dad’s tone feels like I’m a little kid again, doing dumb shit just to get noticed. “Ava and Grey are getting married and invited us all over. It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Was Seraphina there?”

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