Page 44 of 40 and (No Longer) Fighting It
“But… What? How—” She couldn’t even put words together right now. Why had that reporter asked about her time at ICE? Why had he asked about them sleeping together? “Lincoln, I need to know what’s going on.”
“In a minute,” he said, hustling her toward the mansion.
“You’re using your feet, not your mouth. You can walk and talk at the same time.” She needed him to, because what she was imagining had to be way more horrible than what was actually happening.
Lincoln’s lips tightened, but finally he nodded. “Okay.” He took her hand, intertwining their fingers as they continued toward the mansion. “Turns out Shel Blanchard was not writing an article forFood & Winewhen she interviewed us. Or maybe she was and then decided on a different angle.”
“What angle?”
Another pause, the silence only broken by the crunch of nature under their feet. “The angle that you received this job by sleeping with the boss instead of on your own merits. She dug up the records from ICE and your time interning at the Prime, and put two and two together to make six.”
Claire felt her heart rate take off. The reporter back there had known about Shel’s article. Which meant other people did too. Lincoln knew; that had to be why he’d wanted to talk to her. Every person in town, it seemed, was headed to the bluff for the groundbreaking ceremony—heck, her family might even turn up. Had they all read it? Were they all talking about her lack of talent and a sexual relationship with Lincoln getting her this opportunity at the resort?
Could anything be more humiliating?
“Tell me they don’t have pictures.”
Lincoln stumbled, caught himself. “What?”
He was practically wheezing at the thought. “They don’t have pictures of us…I don’t know…kissing? Having sex?” Wasn’t that what tabloids ran when they uncovered a scandal. Claire already felt the violation of being talked about crawling under her skin, but if someone had been sneaking around town taking pictures…
“No pictures, sweetheart.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Lincoln’s laugh was strained. “At least one silver lining, right?”
They entered the mansion, and Lincoln bypassed the bustle that had taken over much of the downstairs and led her straight up to what must be the bedroom he was sleeping in. When the door was closed, he gathered her against his wide chest, his arms blocking out the world. But for how long? How many of the people out there had come to dig into the gossip instead of celebrating the resort? How many reporters would question them? How—
She was going to hyperventilate. Only burying herself harder against Lincoln’s warmth kept her upright.
“I’m sorry, Claire.”
She shook her head. “Unless you asked her to write about this, it isn’t your fault.”
His grunt said he didn’t buy that logic, but whatever. It was true.
She was trying to convince herself too. “Put the blame where it belongs, firmly on Shel,” she reminded them both.
“I requested a retraction,” Linc said.
“They’d probably bury it on the next to last page. The damage is done. No one is gonna want to talk about the truth.”
Lincoln rubbed his cheek against the top of her head. “I’ll fix this somehow. In the meantime, though, I think you should stay up here. We’ll take care of the reporters, answer any questions—”
“No.”
She almost wished she could turn back time and keep that firm denial from escaping her mouth, but it was already spoken, and despite knowing what she was signing up for, she couldn’t take it back. This was her job and her food and her reputation. She wouldn’t leave it to anyone else.
“Yes, Claire. Stay here and let me protect you.”
“You can’t protect me from this, Lincoln.” She pulled back, forcing herself to ease up on the comfort despite really not wanting to. Like, really. “I’m not going to let her steal my reputation. I don’t even know why she did this, but…”
Lincoln rubbed at a brow, and she narrowed her eyes on him.
“You know why she did it? Spill, Chef Young.”
“Uh…” Lincoln sighed, dropped his hand. “She did it because she’s been trying to get me into her bed for months, and when she saw us together…” He shrugged. “I guess it was obvious how I felt about you.”
