Lincoln wakes up around seven—I might’ve crept back into bed at six fifty-five after freshening up and acted as his personal alarm clock. Relieving stress before we create more seemed like a smart idea. We order in breakfast, make fresh coffee, and sit at the kitchen table where I’ve spread all the files out.
“Okay, question, how old were you when you graduated from Harvard?”
“Undergrad or MBA?”
“Either? Both?”
“I was twenty-two for my undergrad and twenty-four for my MBA, why?” He bites the end off the sausage speared on his fork.
I refrain from commenting on the semi-phallicness of it. “Hold on, I’m trying to see if something connects.” I filter through the dates on the bank statements, looking for the ones I highlighted. “Okay. So that’s about a decade ago, and you went there for six years, correct?”
“Yup, sounds about right.”
“Do you know what tuition cost back then, and how much was covered by your scholarship?”
“Umm.” Lincoln taps on his chin, right where his little dimple is. I don’t know why I’m so obsessed with that particular feature. “Wren?”
“Yeah?” I drag my eyes back up to his.
“Distracted by the sexy?” He points to the dimple. “Maybe I should consider growing a beard again to keep it from being such a problem.”
“I was thinking. And don’t you dare or that laser appointment will happen faster than you can blink.”
“You’d think after all the orgasms you’ve had in the past twenty-four hours, you’d be nicer to me.”
“I was fully responsible for making my own orgasm happen this morning. You just laid back and enjoyed the ride.” I point to the computer screen. “Now focus, please. Your scholarship, what did it cover?” I pull up a browser on my phone and look up tuition costs at Harvard for an undergrad ten years ago. I get a list of top Ivy League colleges and their rising tuition costs over the past decade.
“My undergrad scholarship covered tuition in full, and I’m pretty sure it covered fifty percent of my MBA.”
I glance up. “That’s impressive.”
He shrugs, cheeks flushing. His embarrassment is cute. “School and me got along. I liked learning.”
“Me too.” I probably would’ve had the biggest crush on him if we’d met in high school. Smart, and a chin dimple. All the ovaries exploding everywhere.
“So, it looks like tuition would’ve been about thirty-five grand a year, but your scholarship would’ve negated that, so it doesn’t line up the way I want it to.”
“Doesn’t line up how?”
“These withdrawals. I wondered if they were tuition-based. They start the same time you went to Harvard, but the numbers don’t add up.” I turn the files toward him, so he can see what I’m talking about.
While he looks them over, I check out the tuition costs associated with the top schools in the country. “Hold on a second.” I grab the files, nearly knocking over Lincoln’s coffee. “Here! Oh my God! Look as this!” I stab the highlighted withdrawal and the tuition for Princeton. “These match exactly.”
“I didn’t go to Princeton.”
“Did Armstrong?”
“No. He went to Harvard too, and this is four years too early for him.”
I slump back in my seat. “Dammit. It’s probably a coincidence.”
“Maybe.” Lincoln flips through the bank statements and scrolls through the chart on yearly tuition hikes. “Except it matches the cost of tuition four years in a row. One year I can see being a coincidence, but four?”
“It seems highly unlikely.” I shift closer. “So, whose education was he paying for? What about Gwendolyn?”
He shakes his head. “She was involved in charity stuff and event planning when I was a teenager. Her and my aunt used to host all the events for Moorehead and Mills Hotels.” He rubs between his eyes. “Who would you put through college, especially Ivy League, apart from your kids?”
“I don’t know, Linc, but I know someone who might be able to find out for us.”CHAPTER 24DIG DEEPERLINCOLNMy head is spinning as we make the short trip to Dani’s—who I haven’t met in person yet. I’m shocked when she opens the door. She doesn’t appear old enough to be a PI, but then maybe the innocent look is exactly what makes her a good one. I guess I’m about to find out.
She throws open the door. “Girl, I have a drama llama dancing around my apartment!” She looks past Wren to me, and she lets out a low whistle. “Wow. I thought all those pictures were airbrushed or something, but clearly you really are this hot without any help.” She makes a circle motion in the air beside her head, maybe referring to my face. “You’ve got some excellent genetic engineering going on. Good work, bestie.” Her hand shoots out. “I’m Dani, Wren’s best friend for forever. If you happen to have any single family members apart from your asswipe of a brother, I am totally available. I’m not looking for anything serious either. Straight hookup is fine with me.”