to the bitter taste.
Amy, the executive assistant he and Beck shared, tucked her phone between her neck and ear and reached across her desk to throw Linc an unopened water bottle. He caught it, cracked the lid and looked through the glass walls to see his still-slim, still-pretty mother walking down the hallway and, as he always did, said a quick, silent thank-you to whatever force that had driven her into the arms of Connor Ballantyne.
Well, not his arms—as far as he knew Connor and his mom were never romantically involved—but into his house, at least. Moving into the brownstone known as The Den and meeting the kids who would become his siblings was the best day of his life; losing Connor, the worst.
Linc hurried across the office to open the door to her and bent down to kiss Jo’s cheek.
“Hi.”
“Hello, darling,” Jo replied. Her eyes were gray, like his, but hers were the color of gentle rain while his were a darker, edgier granite. “I’m sorry to drop in on you without warning.”
“That’s never a problem,” Linc assured her.
Jo greeted Amy with a kiss and a hug, and gestured to his office. “Have you a minute for me, Linc?”
“Always.”
In his office Jo sat down as he perched on the edge of his desk and folded his arms across his chest, feeling the burn in his biceps. He’d pushed himself last night, storming through his late-night workout, hoping that the exercise would ensure a good night’s sleep. It had helped somewhat; he’d slept for a solid four hours only to be woken up by Shaw having a nightmare. It had taken an hour to get his son to settle again, and by then he was wide-awake.
“Gary has asked me to move in with him.”
Linc jerked his attention back to his mother, trying to contain his shock. “You want to leave The Den? But why so soon?”
Jo rolled her eyes. “We have been in a relationship for more than six months, Linc, so stop acting like I met him two weeks ago! You like him, you told me so.”
That was before he was encouraging you to move out, Linc silently groused. Every time Jo mentioned Gary, her eyes glowed and her cheeks warmed. If he believed in love and all that crap, he’d say his mom was head over heels in love with the ex-banker. Since he didn’t, he looked past all that and saw two intellectually and socially compatible people who simply enjoyed each other’s company. Truth be told, he still didn’t like the fact that Jo was choosing Gary over Shaw, the grandson she’d been helping Linc raise since he was six weeks old.
“I think that we’ll marry eventually, but I—” Jo continued, rubbing her forehead with the tips of her fingers. “I’ve lived in The Den for twenty-five years and I love it, but now I want my own home, Linc. I want a place that’s all mine, and we want to travel.” His mom lifted worried eyes to his. “You know I love Shaw and I was happy to help you when he was a baby because, frankly, you needed the assistance. I still want to help out but—”
“But you don’t want to do it every day,” Linc said and Jo nodded.
Linc cursed. Bad time to defect, Mom! He had a massive company to run and grow. They were rebranding the business, he was considering investing in a diamond mine in Botswana, they had a strike looming at a mine in Colombia, they were opening new stores in Abu Dhabi and Barcelona, refurbishing stores in Hong Kong, LA and Tokyo.
His business life was ridiculously busy and consistently stressful, and he was only able to do what he did because he didn’t have to worry about Shaw. His home life ran like clockwork: he took Shaw to pre-K, Jo picked him up and spent the afternoon and early evening with him, feeding and bathing him if he was running late. It worked so damn well because he trusted his mom implicitly, and he never worried about his son’s emotional and physical welfare. She was irreplaceable.
“I’ve been looking after kids for so long.” Jo shrugged, lifting delicate shoulders. “I’m nearly sixty, Linc. I want to have some fun, take a break, travel. Have a glass of wine at lunchtime if I feel like it. I’m tired, Linc. Can you understand that?”
Linc stood up and walked to the window, conscious of his accelerated heartbeat and his constricted throat. He hated change, especially in his personal life, and now she’d thrown him for a total loop. Keep calm and think it through. As a father of a mischievous four-year-old and as the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, keeping his head while everyone else was losing theirs was how he navigated his life.
He’d had a lot of practice at being the calm port everyone ran to in a storm. When he was eleven, Jo had secured the position to be Connor Ballantyne’s housekeeper and to help him look after his orphaned nephews and niece. His mom told Linc to keep out of the Ballantynes’ ways, but Connor, with his huge heart and lack of snobbery, insisted that if they were going to live in The Den, then they had to live in The Den. They all ate and played together, and Linc attended the same expensive school as Jaeger and Beck. He read in the library, slid down the banister and peppered the magnificent chandelier in the foyer with spitballs.
To his utter surprise and delight, Connor embraced Linc’s presence at The Den, and he never once felt like a third wheel. Maybe that was because Jaeger, Beck and Sage latched onto him, and though he’d been a kid himself, a little less than a year older than Jaeger, he somehow became the person they’d gravitated to. For more than a quarter of a century, he’d been the glue holding the Ballantynes together, and while Beck helped him run Ballantyne International and all four of them held equal shares in the company, he was—despite the fact that he was not a Ballantyne by blood—the leader of the pack.
Linc didn’t mind. When he formally adopted the four of them when Linc turned sixteen, Connor made it clear that Linc was the oldest child, that he expected him to look after his siblings, to look after the company, to do him proud.
He had no intention of disappointing the only father he’d ever really known. But Shaw’s welfare was his first priority, always. How could he place his son’s care in the hands of a stranger? How was he supposed to run this company, nurture and grow it, if he was worried about whether his son was receiving the same attention at home?
Linc opened his mouth to throw himself at her mercy and ask for a time extension but then immediately snapped it shut. As much as he hated change, he couldn’t put his needs above Jo’s. Especially since she’d dedicated the past thirty-five years putting him first.
Crap. Having integrity sucked.
He turned and forced himself to smile. “So, what do you suggest I do?”
Linc saw the shock and relief in her eyes, ashamed to realize that she’d expected him to argue. “You need a live-in nanny.”
Ack. A stranger in his house, looking after his kid. Shoot him now.
“I’ll contact the most reputable agencies and select a few for you to interview,” Jo said before lifting her eyebrows. “Or do you want to do this yourself?”
Linc shuddered. “No, thanks. I’d rather shower with acid.”
His mom cocked her head. “You know what you need, don’t you? More than a nanny?”
Sex? A decent night’s sleep? A skiing vacation with lots of sex and lots of sleep?
“You need a wife,” Jo empathetically stated.
Linc shot her a glare. He so didn’t. Once upon a time he’d nearly acquired one of those and lost her two weeks before they were supposed to say “I do.” For the past four years he’d managed perfectly well without a wife. But he’d had Jo’s help... Dammit.
“I’ve heard all the reasons why you’re not interested, Linc. Women are fickle, untrustworthy, they just want your money or the Ballantyne name. Et cetera...et cetera.”
“Mom.” Linc closed his eyes, looking through the glass wall in Amy’s direction. He had a full day ahead, multibillion-dollar decisions to make, and he did not need to talk about his crappy love life. Amy, as she often did, suddenly lifted