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BOOK: Burned
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Lincoln pushed her sister's chest into the dress while the woman worked the laces from behind. “Why would you binge-eat with your wedding around the corner? Now the dress is too small, and there is no room to let it out.”

Regan pushed her sister away. “I’m a size four. I’ve always worn a size four, and my stress eating has not caused me to gain any weight.”

“Regan, you’ve put on at least ten pounds! Have you not noticed the dress doesn’t fit anymore?” Lincoln fussed at her sister.

Regan stepped out of the dress handing it to the seamstress. Today was the final fitting for Regan’s upcoming nuptials to Orlando Torres. “Is there any room to let it out on each side?”

The woman scrunched her face. “Not really. However, we do have the same exact dress in the showroom. The bride never wore the dress, but it’s a size eight. Why don’t I get it for you to try on?”

“A size eight!”  Regan shouted. “No way will I fit a dress that big. If I have to stop eating altogether, I will fit this dress. I will lose the five extra pounds by the end of the week.”

Lincoln flopped in the plush chair, amused by her sister’s denial of the extra weight. She released a sad sigh. Regan was getting married for a second time, and she had yet to do it once. Anthony had hinted at the possibility of being engaged, but it didn’t happen on her birthday or during the holidays. It seemed likely he would never propose and that she was wasting her time with him.

She looked at her bare ring finger. Her biological clock was ticking, and he wasn’t getting any younger. There was a ten-year age difference between them, not to mention his job as a firefighter was dangerous.

Her attention went back to Regan as she stomped off the platform. “I don’t need a bigger size! I have always worn a size four, and I will go to my grave wearing a size four.”

“Get over it, Regan. You know wedding gowns run small, and wearing a size eight would be humongous on you. Although your butt could take up the extra space,” Lincoln said, looking at Regan as she bent over to put on her pants. “You have put on a bit of a spread back there.”

Regan stood upright, buttoning her snug-fitting jeans. “You’re not helping.”

 “I’m sorry. I think you’re making too much out of nothing. You’re beautiful, and Orlando loves you the way you are. He won’t care if the dress is four sizes bigger.”

 Regan tossed a wad of tissue paper at her sister. “Shut up before I change my mind about your dress and make you wear something tacky and ugly.”

“Our dresses are back already, and mine is a perfect fit,” she smirked.

“Yeah, well not all women are built like 10-year-old girls. Some of us have curves.”

Lincoln frowned. “That isn’t funny. I was playing with you about your weight.”

“Girl, you know I’m kidding. You have a great body.”

Lincoln stood up to view her profile in the mirror. The wall of mirrors reflected the image Regan joked about. She was tall, small-breasted, and super slender. “I wonder if the way I look is why Anthony isn’t interested in me anymore.”

“You’ve always been slender, and Anthony is crazy about you.”

She shook her head. “Not lately. So, are we ready to go?”

Regan took her by the elbow. “Lincoln, what is going on between you and Anthony?”

Lincoln blinked to stop the tears from forming in her eyes. “I think he is seeing his ex-girlfriend again.”

“Do you have proof he’s seeing her?”

“No, I don’t have proof, other than I never see him anymore. You know how he used to stay with me on his days off; now he goes home.” She fiddled with the neon orange paint covering her fingernails. “Has Orlando mentioned anything about Anthony?”

“Not a word. And I don’t believe he would since I’m your sister. Lincoln, you should talk to Anthony instead of accusing him of cheating. What if you’re wrong?”

Lincoln folded her arms across her chest. “What if I’m right?”

Regan took her sister into her arms to comfort her. “If my first marriage taught me anything, it is to talk about what is bothering you. Accusing Anthony of infidelity could damage your relationship for good.”

“I want to talk to him, but I don’t want to hear he’s dumping me. I’ve invested two years in this relationship, Regan.”

Regan stroked her sister’s black silky hair. “I’ll ask Orlando if he knows anything. It might be something else going on with Anthony. I can’t believe he would cheat on you. Stop worrying about nothing.”

Lincoln tucked her head on her sister’s shoulder. “Thank you.”

Chapter Two

Anthony Jenkins was a perfect example of history repeating itself. Another date and as with most of their dates lately, they would come separately. Lincoln arranged to meet Anthony at the Red Lobster restaurant at 2:00 p.m. and was the first to arrive. She requested a cozy table for two and was seated by a window where she could observe the clamor of the lunch crowd, including the tinkling from glasses and utensils making contact with each other. She requested a Coke to drink while she waited for Anthony to arrive. Laughter erupting from a nearby table caught her attention. Her eyes zoomed in on one of the men - it was Nick, who worked with Anthony at Station 30.

She looked away to check her watch. “Where is he?” she sighed, taking a big sip of Coke from her glass.

The server stopped by her table. “Good afternoon, my name is Hollister. Would you like to order now or continue to wait for your party to arrive?”

Anthony was late again, and this would make three weeks in a row that he’d stood her up or was late arriving for a date he had arranged. Lincoln decided this was the last straw. If he didn’t show up today, she was done. Her time was just as valuable as his and she didn’t have all day to wait for him. She had other pressing items on her agenda.

Her stomach gave an embarrassing growl, causing her anger with Anthony to deepen. “Yes, I’ll order now. I’ll have the shrimp special and another Coke,” she said, shaking the ice in the half-empty glass. “Oh, could I also have an order of cheddar cheese biscuits?”

“I’ll get that order in for you right away,” the server said, not moving away from the table.

She looked up at him puzzled. “Is something wrong?”

He inserted the pencil into the pocket of his apron. He stammered a reply, “Um, I may be out of line and ruin my chances for a tip, but whoever is making you wait is a fool. A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t be kept waiting by any man.”

Lincoln felt the blush rise on her cheeks. She tucked her hair behind her ear and leaked a partial smile. “You just doubled your tip. Thank you for making my day.”

“I mean that,” he said as his hazel eyes rested on her. “This is not a permanent gig for me. I’m going to be a journalist. I graduate from Cleveland State in June.”

“Congratulations. My sister is a journalist.”

“See, this is fate. I have something in common with a family member of yours already,” he joked. “If you aren’t too serious with the guy, I’d like to take you out to dinner or a movie and I promise I’ll be on time.”

His broad smile brightened his handsome face. Lincoln put his age anywhere from early to late twenties and not much older. The mannerism he displayed fit his current job as a waiter. There was no doubt in her mind that if he succeeded in his career as a journalist he would definitely become an on-camera personality. His tall, broad frame; sexy, shy smile and dark good looks were made for television.

Lincoln fumbled with the cloth napkin lying across her lap. “Unfortunately, I’m in a serious relationship with him. If I weren’t, I would take you up on that date,” she said, giving him a wink.

He scribbled on a piece of paper and slid it onto the table. “In case things change, give me a call,” he said walking away.

She unfolded the paper looking at it.  “Hollister Gains…hmm,” she said licking her lips. Her cell phone rang as she folded the paper and put it into her purse. It was Anthony calling. She swiped her finger across the screen to answer the call. “What’s the excuse this time?” she asked, not holding back her annoyance with him.

 “I have to go in to work. Apparently, Nick called in sick. I have to cover his shift tonight so the firehouse isn’t short-handed. Baby, don’t be mad at me.”

She turned to look at the men who were still acting up nearby. Nick was laughing boisterously and banging his fist on the table. He didn’t look sick to her.

“So, Nick called in sick?  Well, you do what you feel is right, baby. I know how important the firehouse is to you.”  She kept her voice steady. The urge to scream “liar” crept into her throat, but she managed to swallow it down.

“I knew you’d understand. I won’t see you for a few days, but I’ll call and check in with you. I love you, baby.”

“Be careful, and I’ll see you in a few days,” she said as she hung up the phone. Fuming, she put the phone down on the table. She should have busted him. However, without any proof Nick had not called off work, she let it go.

Tapping a long fingernail against her lip, she pondered going over to ask him what was up. She scratched the idea. If Anthony was pulling a fast one, this tidbit would come in handy later.

She sat back in the chair looking out the window wondering where things went wrong. Last year they were planning a future together, only to have it unravel one thread at a time. Her mother feared that their ten-year age difference would not stand the test of time. As Anthony grew older, she was afraid he would become possessive or mistrust Lincoln when she was out of his sight.

That was not the case. Anthony was the one creeping. A sudden sadness fell over her and tears threatened to fill her eyes as she watched a couple outside embrace. This was supposed to be a happy time for her family. Regan’s wedding and her role as Maid of Honor filled her with excitement and ideas she intended to use one day for her own wedding. Lately, Anthony was disappearing, and his secrets about his whereabouts made her suspicious. She didn’t know why, but she felt it had to do with his ex-girlfriend Melanie. That woman would always hold a special place in his heart.

A different server arrived with her food. The woman placed the hot plate of grilled shrimp before her and a basket of biscuits in the center of the table. “I’ll get you a refill on your Coke,” she said taking the empty glass away.

Lincoln managed a half-smile and said, “Thank you.”

The cozy table for two suddenly became huge as she reached for a biscuit. The bread released a warm puff of steam as she opened it to spread butter inside it. She tore off a piece of the biscuit stuffing it in her mouth watching the couple outside greet another couple before heading to the front door of the restaurant.

Slowly her mind drifted to nowhere. She jumped in her seat when she felt a hand rest on her shoulder.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” the hand’s owner said as he smiled down at her.

Lincoln had to catch her breath. Recognizing it was Nick; she smiled back. “Don’t mind me, my mind was a million miles away.”

“I noticed. Remember me? I’m Nick Barona. I work with Ant at Station 30.”

“Yes, I remember you. When I heard the laughing, I knew it was you having a good time over there.”

“We tend to get a little rowdy, but when you work hard, you gotta play hard, right?”

Lincoln nodded. “I guess so. Although, I don’t visualize Red Lobster as being a place to let your hair down,” she chuckled.

“Anyplace I go, I let my hair down. I like to have fun when I’m away from work. Are you eating alone or is Ant joining you?”

The words lay on the tip of her tongue. Nick opened the door for her to question him, but she was afraid to hear his answer. “I’m alone. Anthony isn’t joining me for lunch.”

“This is not a good look. A beautiful girl like you should not be dining alone. Would you mind if I joined you?  I could use a cup of coffee.”

Company was the last thing she was in the mood for, but she motioned for him to take a seat. “Help yourself to a biscuit. I would share my shrimp, but I’m greedy and want them all.”

Nick caught the attention of the server and raised his chin. “You’re in luck—I’m allergic to shellfish.”

Lincoln eyed her lunch growing cold on the plate. She hadn’t actually carried on a conversation with Nick before. Their encounters had been brief, a hello or goodbye here and there. Now, by faking a conversation with him, it would only add to the stress of an already bad day.

However, it wasn’t Nick’s fault. He was following the conduct that firefighters use as a close-knit family. Even though she and Anthony weren’t married, she was considered a part of the family because of their relationship.

She separated the shrimp on her plate with her fork. As bad as this was going to hurt, she had to know about Anthony’s former relationship with Melanie. Opening up that complex issue would put Nick in a bad position, but she’d rather it is him than Orlando or Jon who were closer to Anthony.

Looking down at her plate, she decided to ask the risky question. How he answered was up to him. “Nick, what I’m about to ask you could put you in an uncomfortable position, so don’t feel pressured to answer if you feel you shouldn’t.”

Nick raised his brow and took a sip of coffee. “Well, what do you have to ask me that would put me in that kind of position?”

“I have questions concerning Anthony that need answers. I could go to Jon or Orlando, but they are too close to him.”

“Um, I’m his friend, too. Anyhow, is he in trouble? Tell me, I wanna help.”

Lincoln saw his concern and assured him. “He’s not in any trouble. I want to know about his ex-girlfriend Melanie.”

Nick sat back in the chair and draped his arm across the back of it. “Wow, Melanie. What do you want to know about her?”

“In your honest opinion, how deep was their relationship?”

“I might not be the right person to answer that, Lincoln. I don’t feel right talking about him behind his back; especially when it comes to Melanie.”

Lincoln waved her hands dismissing the question. “You’re right and I shouldn’t have asked you anything. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

“It’s alright. Hell, there was a time I couldn’t stand Ant. We weren’t close or friendly to each other. If you’d asked me then, this would be a different conversation. Since you mentioned Melanie, is she back in town?”

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