The Wrong Picking Number

CHAPTER 38

LINCOLN

Iwalked into the lobby of Daniels International, whistling the newest Sound of Us single as I strode past the front desk. The attendant's eyes widened as she looked up from her computer screen and saw me. She quickly regained her composure and put on a polite smile, but it was clear she wasn't sure what to do.

I could see her eyes darting nervously around the room, searching for someone to help her. I decided to put her out of her misery.

"Is my father in?" I asked, knowing she knew exactly who I was.

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, he's in his office, sir."

I gave her a small nod of acknowledgement and turned towards the elevator. As I pressed the button, I could feel her eyes following me.

I stepped into the elevator as soon as the doors opened and hit the button for the top floor. As the elevator ascended, I grinned. Today had been a long time coming, and I was ready.

I checked the penthouse cameras on the way up, making sure that Monroe was still watching a movie. There was a wide smile on her face as she lounged on the couch in one of my T-shirts, watching Wedding Crashers. I took a screenshot so I could make it my new background on my phone.

She was so fucking gorgeous.

When the doors finally opened on the top floor, I strode confidently out of the elevator and towards my father's office. As I approached the door, I could hear voices coming from inside. Without bothering to knock, I pushed the door open and strode into the room.

"Lincoln, what the hell are you doing here? I'm in the middle of a meeting," he snapped.

"Hey, Bart," I shot out to my father's mousy looking Chief Technology Officer, Bartholomew Taylors. There was sweat beaded on his forehead and his cheeks were red. Obviously, he'd been getting his ass reamed in here. "You can leave now."

"Lincoln, what the f—"

"I have something you're really going to want to see," I replied calmly, knowing that it would only rile him up more. "You could say it's life changing."

My father rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath, but gestured for Bart to leave the room.

Bart practically ran out, and I wrinkled my nose in disgust at his cowardice.

As soon as the door swung closed, it was on.

"You want to tell me what the fuck you thought was so important that you barged into my meeting?"

"I wanted to tell you a story," I said lightly and he growled, his gaze narrowing as he studied my face, finally getting the picture. This wasn't business as usual. He glanced at his watch. "Well—get on with it. You have five minutes."