Swing (Landry Family #2)(68)

“Well, it is,” she laughs, “but . . .” She slides into the booth across from me. “Did you know I owned two eateries before the Smitten Kitten?”

“No.”

“I did. I had a little place in Nashville that was tucked next to a deli. Cute as hell, but terrible location. Then I had a little café here in Memphis that I couldn’t get off the ground.”

“I had no idea,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “How did you get here?”

She smiles, picking a chunk of my croissant off and popping it in her mouth. “I’d closed shop three years before. I was working as a paralegal and had an appointment on this side of town when I saw this building up for sale. I was so drawn to it. I could see myself in here, baking and decorating and cooking my life away. I was terrified to tell my husband.”

“Why?”

Pepper looks at me like I’m crazy. “Because I’d failed at this game twice! How could I expect him to want to take the chance on me a third time? It was insane, even to me,” she sighs. “It was all I could think about. All I dreamed about. I could see the menus in my head and smell the coffee roasting. Eventually my husband got to the bottom of my little daydreams and told me to go for it.”

My jaw drops. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” she smiles. “Well, not just like that. He told me to learn from my past experiences and to go into this one smarter. And I had to give him an epic blowjob. Look at me now!” Her hands extend from her sides, motioning to the café. After a few long minutes, she drops them. “That’s what you need to do, Danielle. Learn from your past experiences and go into this one smarter. Maybe Lincoln Landry will be your Smitten Kitten. Or maybe you’ll be his,” she giggles. “Either way.”

“How’d you get so smart?” I can’t deny her words do soothe me, make me feel a little less frantic about this new situation.

“It’s genetic. Now I need to go make another batch of cupcakes for a party this evening I’m catering.”

“I need to go too,” I say, gathering my things. “I think I’m going to head to Lincoln’s.”

The words make me giddy, the thought of seeing him makes me happier than I could imagine I could be.

“Have fun,” Pepper winks before scurrying into the kitchen.

Oh, I fully intend to.





Lincoln

I IMAGINE THIS IS WHAT Graham feels like. Tucked in a shirt that buttons up the front and threatens to choke you, uptight as hell as you walk into a meeting. Only difference is that my brother likes this shit. I hate it.

Give me a bat and a ball and I don’t care who watches or who I have to talk to about it. I can dissect numbers and stats all day. Need someone to study a batting stance and give you a dissertation? I’m your man. Hell, I’ll even wear a suit and tie and charm voters or patrons of a charity and I’ll make you a ton of money. But make me talk about money? I’d rather play basketball.

Coming off the best couple of days of my personal life, I’m swinging open the doors of the Arrows building with a whole lot of nerves. I think it’s worse because I’ve been so relaxed lately.

Just like that, I’m grinning.

Now this, this must be what Barrett feels like. Happy. Content. Excited about the future.

Greeting the receptionist and ignoring the eyes she makes at me, I hit the button on the elevator. Even this reminds me of Dani. As if on cue, my phone rings and I see her name lit up on the screen.

Dani: If you didn’t mean for me to use the key, too late. I’m sitting on your sofa with a pink mug of coffee and hazelnut creamer. ;) Can’t wait to see you. Go get ’em, tiger.

Me: Tiger, huh?

Dani: I like when you growl.

Me: I like when you scream my name.

And when you whisper it.

And when you think it.

Dani: I hope to do all three within a few hours this evening. Hurry your ass up, Landry.

Me: Going in. Phone off. Talk soon.

Flipping my device off and shoving it in my pocket, I take a deep breath and push open the door to the General Management office. The secretary sends me through.

The carpet silences my steps as I take forty-six to the back conference room. Billy Marshall and my agent, Frank Zele, face me. They stand as I enter and shake my hand.

“How are you, Lincoln?” Billy asks

“Good. How are you?”

“Doing good, thanks.”

Frank and I greet each other and we all take a seat.

“How was your holiday?” Billy asks.

I grin. “Excellent. Went home to Savannah.”

Billy doesn’t look at me or acknowledge my response and that concerns me. Greatly. He’s always so talkative—the guy could talk for two hours about a bright, sunny day. Now he won’t look at me? My shoulders stiffen as I clasp my hands in front of me and await the verdict. Frank gives me a look, one that further chills my hopes.

“So,” Billy says finally. “I’m just going to get down to business, if that’s okay with you?” He looks at me and his features are hardened. This isn’t the guy that threw a Fourth of July party last year on Tybee Island and let me take out his brand new fishing boat. This is Billy Marshall, General Manager. I’m just not sure what I am today and that scares the ever-loving fuck out of me. Glancing at Frank, he’s poring over a stack of papers in front of him.