Page 4 of Missing Linc
Camden takes a beat and then turns to us and smiles.
Lenka thanks him and he walks right out with much less spring in his step than when he walked in.
I turn to Lenka to figure out what she’s thinking, but as usual, she gives nothing away. Not in front of actors. Not unless they’ve been cast and even then she’s sparse with her compliments. She wants her cast to keep striving for better. Every. Single. Time.
“Wow,” she finally says when Camden is out of the studio. “That was some raw talent right there.”
I nod. I can barely articulate my thoughts. But yet somehow I manage to string a sentence together.
“I have no idea what that was, but… I think we found our Justin.”
“He’s it, right? No other even came close,” she says.
I nod again and reach for my glass of water.
“Yeah. He’s it,” I say.
Lenka shrieks, and after we get over how good he was and how well the auditions went overall, we walk out of the building.
“Want me to drive you home?” I ask her.
“I’m okay. Are you sure you don’t want to come out for drinks?”
I shake my head and we part with another hug. Then I get home. There’s no one there, so I jump in the shower.
“What thefuck, Linc?”Makayla shouts, making me jump.
I turn to find her standing at the bathroom door, car keys in one hand while the other is on her hip, her brows forming a unibrow of distaste.
What is it now?
“What?” I ask.
“I saw you. Withher. I saw you with thatbitch,” she says.
“Huh?” I say and turn the shower off.
Even though she’s shouting, I can barely hear a thing.
“Lenka. That bitch wants to take you from me. I saw how she hugged you and looked at you. She was eating you up, and you were standing there like an idiot letting her use you like that.”
And… headache.
“Makayla, what the fuck are you talking about? Lenka is a lesbian. She doesn’t like me. She’s my friend. And we haven’t seen each other in years.”
“You can’t fool me, Lincoln Young. I know what these people are like. They’re pretending to be… a certain way just so they can get close to you and then they snatch you up for themselves.”
I crinkle my face and my lips gape, staring at my fiancée. My one and only. The love of my life.
The bigottest bigot that ever lived.
“What do you meanthesepeople? What do you mean pretending? Is this about Isaac again?”
She licks her teeth and cranes her neck to the side.
“Of course it’s about him. It’s always about him. And that bitch, Lenka,” she hisses.
God, it sounds so awful when she speaks. How did I ever find her attractive? How did I ever fall in love with her?
