Monday afternoon, Lincoln met with one of Living Loud's oldest non-Loud clients for lunch at a well known and fashionable sidewalk cafe where the menu was vegan and the patrons were attractive.
It was a blazingly hot day in the city and the punishing rays of the sun beat down upon the metropolis like a death laser in an old James Bond movie. Lincoln had been up since five that morning and a headache was beginning to form behind his left eye, the short walk from the car to the cafe leaving him drenched in sweat. Dang Los Angeles heat, he didn't think he'd ever get used to it. Inside, the place was open, brightly lit, and, most importantly, air conditioned. Sitting at a table next to a window overlooking the street, goosebumps raced up his arms and the damp fabric of his shirt clung uncomfortably to his chest like a second skin. He pinched it between his thumb and forefinger and pulled it away from his tacky flesh, but it came back to rest on it the moment he let it go, and he sighed in defeat.
Across from him, Kristy Gillespie happily went on about her latest role in a big budget action film set to premiere early next year. A tall, slender woman with chestnut hair shot through with muted blonde highlights, crisp green eyes, and cute freckles that all the Hollywood make-up artists were mystifyingly intent on covering up, Kristy had been with Living Loud longer than even Lincoln himself and was the very first client put directly under his charge, and for that, he was endlessly thankful. A lot of girls (and guys) that LL had represented over the years were implacable divas who made him and everyone around them want to kill either them or themselves, but Kristy was as placid and down to earth as you could want. She'd grown up a minister's daughter in rural Ohio, hunted and fished as a girl, and wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty. The young woman was patient and understanding and had never, to Lincoln's knowledge, thrown a hissy fit over some go-fer getting her a mocha latte instead of an espresso, and while that might not seem like a particularly impressive hurdle to clear, it was actually one few people in town at her level of success could truthfully boast of. Though she had been in Hollywood and getting big parts for a long time, Kristy had blessedly never lost that sheen of girlish wonder that all callow not-stars in L.A. had and she spoke to everyone as though they were her best friend, whether they were a studio exec or a lowly stage tech.
She didn't remind Lincoln of any one of his sisters specifically, but she did remind him of them generally, and he always enjoyed working with her.
And now she was leaving.
"I was offered a contract with another agency," she had admitted after they ordered, unable to meet his eyes. Lincoln figured something was up when she called that morning and asked to see him. Some clients shoved themselves up his butt and never left him alone, but Kristy wasn't one of them. She was a bright and motivated girl who had all the ambition in the world; people like that didn't need their hand held, they went out and did things on their own.
Like joining another agency.
It happened, she said, on set. The talent rep for her co-star, a major Hollywood actor and former teen heartthrob who'd gotten his start on an ABC sitcom a decade and a half ago, approached her and started selling himself. You're on your way up, he said, it's time you join a real talent agency.
Hearing that made Lincoln's blood boil, although it really shouldn't have. It was a fact that while small talent firms such as Living Loud had their place, eventually, certain clients would find that they just needed to move on to something bigger, something with deeper roots and wider connections. They required a level of representation that a burgeoning company simply couldn't offer them, and so they went somewhere that could. It had happened before and it would happen again, an expected and natural part of doing business in Hollywood, and when those clients, the ones on an upward trajectory like Kristy was, inevitably came to him (and it was always him first, for whatever reason), he took it as a professional blow, but never a personal one.
This time was different, though. He liked Kristy a lot and she'd been around so long that seeing her go, never to return, was almost like losing a friend.
He would never express that sort of sentimentality out loud though, not to Kristy and certainly not to Lori. He suspected his sister felt the same way deep down, but she never said anything and he followed her example. They were running a business here and it wouldn't do to become too attached to the clients. What good would it do but make Kristy feel guilty, anyway? In the end their relationship was simply a partnership of mutual benefit, when one got right down to it, and if another party offered better, it was only logical for her to make the switch. Clients come and went, that's just what they did. It was only family that was forever...and hopefully Living Loud would be, too.
"It was really cool," she gushed. "I was like whoa." The young woman giggled with delight, and Lincoln nodded politely. He had zoned out and had no idea what she was talking about but he did his best to pretend he was following.
"I bet," he said. "I've never been on a set for a movie that big myself, so I think I'd be pretty blown away too."
"You should come down one day," she offered, twirling a lock of her hair around her index finger, "Filming's going to wrap soon so it's your last chaaaance," She sang, trying to tempt him.
Lincoln took a drink of his juice and smiled. "Maybe. I'm really busy lately though and I gotta do your paperwork ASAP. I can't exactly play hotshot leading lady at the moment," he joked, "I think I'd better leave that up to you."
A flash of guilt flickered across her face and she looked down at the table. "I'm really sorry about this," Kristy muttered softly.
"Don't be," he answered seriously, shaking his head, "I didn't mean it that way. I'm happy for you. You've worked hard and it's finally paying off."
She nodded, more to herself than anything. "Yeah...I just feel bad. You guys took care of me and I hate leaving this way. It feels like I'm doing something wrong and honestly, I thought about it so much before deciding."
"It happens," Lincoln consoled her. "We all hate to see you go - I know Lori will, and I do too - but you have to do what's best for you, and I completely understand your decision."
That was the truth. He didn't blame Kristy for wanting to move on. Her star was rising and in a few years she would likely be very, very famous, the kind of actress people still talked about decades after their death. It would be stupid of her not to take the opportunity, and while he was a little disappointed that she was going, he would be even more disappointed if she didn't. He genuinely cared about the girl and wanted her to succeed.
Sighing again, Kristy darted her eyes up to his. "I'm gonna miss Living Loud. I owe you all so much."
Lincoln started to speak, but missed a beat when she gently crept her hand over the back of his. "Especially you," she added and brushed her thumb over his knuckles. "You've been really good to me, Linc. Looked out for me..." She uttered a soft laugh. "Almost like a dad or older brother or something."
He honestly didn't know how to respond to that. It wasn't like she was wrong. Lincoln was a big believer in the golden rule: given that he had sisters of his own and knowing how he'd want them watched out for were someone else in his position, he likewise made sure to look after all the girls at LL with particular care. Admittedly, he was slightly less attentive to the men. They could handle themselves a bit better in the biz, in his opinion. It might sound sexist, but it was true. Guys in L.A. got screwed over and taken advantage of with no less regularity than their female counterparts, but young women like Kristy were vulnerable to not only that but to physical danger as well. He thought back to that scummy promoter groping Luan and a chunk of ice dropped into his stomach. Maybe some men went through the same thing, in fact they surely did, but he couldn't help but feel more viscerally about it when it happened to girls, especially ones he was supposed to be responsible for...
Was that wrong of him? He didn't know. Even if it was, Lincoln couldn't help it. It was just how he'd been raised.
Admitting all of that to her didn't seem like a good idea, though. Kristy was nice, but she ultimately wasn't his family or even a friend, not really. She was a client and surely didn't need or want to know the ins and outs of Lincoln's psyche and motivations anymore than he wanted to share them. If he were to explain his feelings, would she understand them, or would she think he was some kind of sexist? It was hard to tell. They had talked a million times over the years but, like with Lisa, their conversations rarely went very deep. Lincoln knew about her family and her likes and dislikes, but not much about who she really was when it came right down to it.
"I try to do what's right," he finally said after hesitating, "And having my own sisters, I just...I can be protective, I guess." The young man admitted sheepishly.
Kristy squeezed his hand and the back of his neck prickled. Her touch was light and tender and made him feel slightly awkward, but not exactly in an unpleasant way.
"I really appreciate that," she nodded. "You have no idea how much it's meant to me, Lincoln. I'm going to miss you." A puckish smile danced across her pink lips and her eyes sparkled with an inner effervescence that pierced his chest like the tip of a knife.
She was so damn beautiful, he thought to himself quietly. If he was lucky, maybe one day he'd find a girl just like her. A guy could dream...
"I'll miss you too," he finally blurted out, unable to help himself, and winced as he immediately regretted it. Just what was he thinking, getting sentimental in front of a client? Sticking with platitudes like he'd been doing before was the correct way to play things. After all, this whole meeting was just a formality to begin with, something Kristy had arranged to end things with Living Loud more gracefully than by simply mailing them a notice of intent. Despite any appearances to the contrary, this wasn't a heart to heart, it was business.
He was getting too caught up in the moment, Lincoln realized. Some professional he was. Sigh. It'd probably be wise for him to make his excuses and leave before he really started making a fool of himself.
Her face lit up with happiness and she ghosted her fingertips over his knuckles. "Do you...have a little extra time?" She asked, her eyes half-lidding. "Maybe we could go back to my place and have a drink. Like, a last toast to our time together, you know?"
Before he could focus on the way she was holding his hand, the young man was distracted by her offer. A drink, he marvelled dazedly? In the middle of the day? He wouldn't have figured Kristy for the type. Still, much as he would have liked to take her up on it, it just wasn't possible. Even if he did have the time, which most assuredly wasn't the case, Lincoln would still be obliged to decline; he had to keep clear-headed for work. If he came back to the office soused after already taking a long business lunch, there was no telling what Lori would do to him.
"I'd love to, I really would," Lincoln began as she stared at him expectantly, "...But I can't. I have to get back," he finished, sighed regretfully and glancing at his watch. He barely missed her look of hurt and disappointment. "I've got a lot of work ahead of me."
"That's okay," she said, and when he looked back up flashed a smile that wasn't entirely genuine. "Maybe some other time?"
Lincoln hesitated. Kristy was nice, but he couldn't really see himself socializing with her now that he wasn't her agent. All of the mixing and mingling he did was strictly for work, never just because. Setting aside their soon-to-be-very-different social stratas, if he could barely fit his own sisters into his life, how could he justify haphazardly jamming Kirsty into it? The young man maintained few friendships for just that reason, he simply didn't have the time, and picking up one now - if they were to indeed become friends and keep in touch - just didn't seem feasible.
He didn't say any of that, however.
"Definitely." He nodded.
She smiled at him hopefully and then, after a few more shared words, he left. On his half hour drive back to the office, found himself Lincoln meditating on that smile, turning it over and over in his head like a relic both alien and familiar. His stomach twisted like a limp rag and for reasons he could not name, he found himself wishing he took her up on her offer. Kristy was -
He cut that thought off before it could form. She was sweet and that was that.
...He couldn't help picturing holding her in his arms and kissing the tip of her nose, though.
That image brought a sardonic smile to his lips. It was saccharine and juvenile, a childish fancy, and he chided himself for entertaining it. Even so, it followed the young man throughout the rest of the day; he'd glance away from the computer and find it lingering there like the perfume of lovers past.
What would Lincoln Loud be like married to Kristy Gillespie, he wondered?
He had no answer. In idle moments, lying in bed and waiting for sleep to take him, he would sometimes try and create a mental composite of the perfect woman, the one who was surely out there somewhere this very minute waiting for him to fall head over heels in love with her, but he could never quite manage it. The traits and quirks he desired, he'd discovered, were clashing and schizophrenic, violins, steel drums, shredding guitars, and banjos all lifting their voices in a clanging and discordant symphony of contrasts and contradictions. He wanted someone sweet and sunny, like Leni, but also levelheaded and driven like Lori; he wanted someone who always laughed, like Luan, but took things seriously too like Lynn; he wanted a girl who was low maintenance and tomboyish like Lana, but also soft and feminine like Lola. His idea of the perfect woman was a Frankenstein cobbled together crudely with little regard for geometric reality and existing only in one man's fantasies.
In other words, the girl Lincoln Loud wanted was not real and likely never would be. No one person could possess all of those traits, at least not in balance. Anyone he could be with would lean inevitably toward one extreme or another, unable to meet the impossible standard he'd somehow come to harbor in his heart, and he might even come to resent her for it.
That thought depressed him greatly. He envisioned finding a beautiful woman, beautiful inside and out, and never being entirely satisfied with who she was. He saw himself drifting, growing distant, saw her (murky and vague as she was) stealing hurt and confused looks at him, wondering what she was doing wrong and why her husband was so unhappy, why he didn't love her the way she loved him. Lincoln was the soft-hearted type and the idea of doing that to someone made him sick to his stomach. Anyone even a fraction as kind, loving, caring, and thoughtful as the one he'd conjured in his mind deserved better; she deserved to be loved and cherished as she was, not judged and found lacking by a guy like him who hardly even knew what it was he wanted.
...For heaven's sake, now he was feeling bad for a person that wasn't even real! He really was going stir-crazy.
One casual ideation lead to another, and by the end of the day, he was beginning to wonder if he didn't make his ideal woman unobtainable on purpose. Even with Liz, who he'd really liked, there was always that faint, nagging sense that he was trying to force a square peg into a round hole. The young man indulged in a bit of amateur self-psychology. Maybe he was afraid of commitment and that was what was doing it. Or maybe he was afraid of going all in on someone (forever and a family) and being disappointed. Maybe...maybe he was just plain old scared of getting hurt.
"You alright, Linc? You've been pretty quiet all night." A voice broke him from his musings.
He and Lori were sitting at a table in one of those weird fusion bistros so prevalent in Hollywood. He couldn't remember what the place was called even though he was certain he had been there before. It was after sunset and the dining room was filled with the telltale chatter and clatter of the dinner rush. A bar hugged the wall off to his left; glamorous women and handsome men sat on stools and drank mixed drinks as a bartender bustled up and down the line, refilling glasses and taking tips. Lincoln drew a heavy sigh and turned to look at his eldest sibling. Her pearl earrings swayed back and forth like frozen teardrops even though she wasn't moving, and a look of motherly concern that stirred his heart pinched her tired features. Lori was far thinner than mom was, but in that moment she seemed so much like her it almost gave him whiplash.
"Yeah, I'm fine," he shook his head, "Just...got a lot on my mind."
Lori sighed and sat back. "I hear you there. I spent the day on the phone with Howard Goldblatt."
Lincoln instinctively winced. Howard Goldblatt was the head of ROK Pictures. One of those old school Hollywood execs who wielded more power than God and handled it with the grace and even-handedness of Mussolini, Goldblatt was simultaneously feared and reviled as well as respected across the industry for turning ROK into a cinematic powerhouse in only seven years. Whispered rumors painted him as a stern autocrat who could reduce a blockbuster star to tears in 100 words or less, routinely ignored labor laws, and worked his employees to the limit of their endurance. He was ruthless, cutthroat, and inflexible, and dealing with him was the secret dread of every agent, talent rep, and momager in the biz. Lincoln pitied anyone who had to suffer through an encounter with Howard, much less his own sister, someone he knew to be fair, kind-hearted, and good. "How did it go?" He asked carefully.
"It went alright, it was just draining. That man's never happy with anything. Sometimes I think he nitpicks just to hear the sound of his own voice." She shook her head, "Anyway, what's up with you?"
A waitress came over and sat their usual drinks in front of them, a margarita for Lori and a Long Island for Lincoln. When she was gone, he said, "Nothing, I've just been thinking.'
He was reluctant to open up to his sister about his love life - or lack thereof. To him, that was intensely private and maybe even a little shameful.
"About what?" She asked interestedly.
"Nothing," Lincoln said, "It's nothing."
Lori crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her brow. She was channeling Rita Loud again; that was the same look their mother wore when she knew you were lying to her and expected you to come clean...or else. Lincoln could never say exactly what or else constituted because that look, a mixture of reproof, annoyance, and menace, was always enough to drag the truth kicking and screaming from him. Lori couldn't pull it off quite as expertly as mom did, but she still managed it well enough that he squirmed under her gaze. "Really, it's nothing." He insisted.
"What - is - it." she asked again, enunciating each word slowly.
At first Lincoln resisted admirably, but in the end he had no choice but to give in. Sighing in defeat, he wrapped his hand around his glass and stared down into the brownish liquid like it was a bleak and forlorn future. "Just...I've been thinking about, like…" a hot, embarassed blush crept up the back of his neck. The admission stuck in his throat like a barbed knot and he swallowed reflexively against it. He was making this into a bigger deal than it really was, he knew, acting like a shy little boy and not the (relatively) self-assured adult he was. He took a deep breath and looked up at his sister, who watched him with mild worry. "I've just been thinking about my love life. It's kind of...well...dead."
It wasn't like he'd expected Lori to laugh at him or anything, but he was still somehow surprised when instead she took a deep breath and nodded her commiseration. "Yeah, join the club. I feel that way sometimes. I just throw myself into work and it goes away."
"That's what I've been doing," he complained, "But it doesn't really solve anything."
Lori tilted her head to the side, conceding his point. "No, but what else can you do? People like me - people like us - don't really have time for love, Lincoln. We can either tear ourselves up over that or we can live our lives." She flicked her eyes to the table and meditated for a moment. "I get lonely and I wish I had someone but I can't put in the time to build a relationship, you know? Some women can go pick a rando guy up and be happy with that but not me."
"Yeah," Lincoln agreed, "I'm not like that either."
"I have a dating profile online," his sister confessed, then laughed. "That's kind of like a dark secret."
He knew all about it, actually. That was because he had one too and one day, they'd matched with an 84 percent compatibility rate. He'd read her intro and details and thought wow, she sounds great, then saw her picture, cried out in alarm, and instantly blocked her. The young man often wondered if she'd seen his.
"Sometimes I'll go through it, notice guys I like, and put them on my favorites list, but every time I think about messaging someone I just start asking myself...like...would going out with him, on dates, be a hassle?" She frowned. "Would it interfere with my life? The answer is always yes." There was a hint of resigned sadness in her voice that wounded Lincoln.
Maybe because it sounded an awful lot like his own.
"I have one too," he admitted. "And I kind of do the same thing. I look at profiles and that's pretty much it. I've sent a few messages, but I don't really get any replies." He let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Every so often, when he snapped awake to the incredible emptiness of his life and the loneliness became too much, he would message women. Ten, twenty at a time, casting the net far and wide so that he'd at least catch something. He didn't know if he would ever follow through in asking one out, but alone and craving female contact the way a flower craves sunlight in the waning days of autumn, a brief and superficial conversation was fine. Just a chat about the weather, that was enough for him.
Most of the time, he didn't get it. He would send dozens of messages and receive one response if he was lucky. Was it him? Was there something horribly wrong with his approach? He didn't think he was ugly or possessed an exceptionally off-putting personality, but who could really know that about themselves for sure? It was definitely possible he was sending out some kind of vibe.
"No one really messages me back and..." He tried to remember, "I don't think anyone's ever messaged me first."
Lori hummed. Strange. "I get tons of messages, but most of them are from guys who clearly want one thing and one thing only."
Now Lincoln felt even worse. "At least you know people are interested in you for something. No -"
He was going to say no one's interested in me at all, but he realized at the last second how self-pitying that sounded. Forget it, might as well keep that kind of whining to himself.
He couldn't have guessed how little his reservedness actually mattered. The young man had been working side-by-side with Lori for three years and lived with her his whole life, and she could read him like he was an airport paperback. "Oh, yes they are," she rolled her eyes.
Her absolute conviction, as though she had confirmed, inside knowledge of what she was saying, knocked him off balance, and his heart bounced in place. "They are?"
She laughed. "Really, Lincoln?"
The question came out with an incredulous twist, the kind you'd give to someone who was obviously playing dumb or plainly fishing for compliments. "Yes, really." He pressed her anyway, insistent she explain herself.
"Most of the girls we represent have a crush on you." His sister deadpanned when she realized he was being serious, "And they don't exactly hide it."
Despite his suspicions to the contrary, Lori wasn't playing a joke on him. It was all true. To be fair, the possibility wasn't as farfetched as it initially seemed when one actually thought about why the girls at the agency might feel that way: after all, Lincoln was, frankly, the first really stable male figure a lot of their younger female talents had had in their lives, and so it was somewhat inevitable something of the sort might happen. The very nature of Hollywood and show business centered around social worship and that meant it attracted kids with abandonment issues looking for affirmation like honey attracted flies, and with Lincoln being a somewhat older, mature guy with his life at least superficially together, who was always there to look after and take care of them, not to mention being pretty damn cute besides, well...
All of this, of course, had gone completely unnoticed by the young man himself. "That's news to me." He blinked in surprise.
"That's because you're a guy and guys are dumb," Lori shrugged airily. "No offense."
The waitress came over and took their meal orders. "BS. What do you mean they don't hide it?" Lincoln probed after she left. "I mean...they haven't said anything. Am I missing something here?"
A big part of him was reluctant to believe her assessment. His big sister wasn't one to console a despondent friend or family member with white lies, generally speaking, but still. Besides, what did Lori know anyway, when you got right down to it? She stayed in her office, he was the one who dealt with the clients - male and female - face to face. He knew, she didn't.
At least, that's what he thought.
"Of course they don't say anything," Lori scoffed in a tone indicating that that should be self-evident. "That's not how most girls are, especially ones their age. They send you signals. They laugh too hard at your jokes and touch your arm and play with their hair and stuff. God, Lincoln, only you could miss those cues." She shook her head in dismay at his obliviousness.
Lincoln furrowed his brow. "They don't -"
Kristy Gillespie flashed across his mind.
Didn't she touch his hand and play with her hair during their meeting that very afternoon? Wasn't her smile just a little too...bright? Didn't her eyes sparkle with something not unlike attraction?
W-well, maybe they did, but she said she appreciated the way he looked out for her. She liked and respected him, that's all. Some of their other signees had done similar stuff, just like Lori said - hanging off his arm, play hitting him and the like - but he still didn't think that meant they were necessarily into him. Some guys believed that any woman who was even the least bit nice to them wants to have sex, but not Lincoln. He was grounded and realistic, women are people and people are friendly sometimes. Not every little smile or hand pat had a deeper meaning, and, honestly, dudes who thought that they did had always struck him as egotistical.
He said as much, and Lori rolled her eyes again, a bemused little smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "Honestly Lincoln, a lot of that feminist stuff from TV and social media is actually pretty bad advice." It was the kind of frank admission that could get her in trouble if she said it in less trusted company, but this was Lincoln. Unlike most people she knew in town, her brother was one of the few she could be truly candid with without having to worry her words might end up as a quote on some blog. "Women don't really make the first move, otherwise guys might get the wrong impression and think we're easy. It's still kind of up to the man. And that means you've got to be able to pick up what we're putting out. If a girl is into you, she'll show you that she likes you but she won't say it unless she really likes you. Like...she wants to marry you likes you."
Lincoln remained unconvinced. "You're generalizing."
"I'm telling you," Lori insisted. "You know, I think Bobby's little sister really screwed up your idea of how dating works back when you were kids and she clobbered you until you agreed to be her boyfriend." He was about to protest that that wasn't what had happened before she continued, "That's not how it usually goes. If you want to be with a girl, you gotta be proactive about it, and you have to understand why we're acting the way we are. She might be showing you how she feels and you won't even know it!"
Lincoln considered it for a moment, then sighed and threw his head back. The young man still didn't know if he fully bought what his sister was selling or not, but now that he re-examined some of his past interactions in the light of this new information, he could clearly see where maybe, just maybe, a few people had been interested in him, and he felt stupid for not noticing at the time. "Why do women have to be so complicated?" He moaned.
"Why do men have to be so clueless?" Lori countered. "It's really not that hard, you know."
"Yes it is," he complained.
"Look, I'll show you. We'll play a game." The blonde decided to prove her point. "You be you, and I'll be a girl that's flirting with you. Just do what you normally do."
"...Alright." He thought about it for a bit before ultimately agreeing; the whole thing sounded a little weird, honestly, but he was too curious to find out where exactly he was screwing up to turn Lori down.
"You ready?" She asked, quirking a brow.
"Sure." He nodded.
With that, Lori closed her eyes, took a deep, steadying breath, then opened them again.
"Omigosh!" Lincoln recoiled as his sister promptly clapped her hands together and squealed in her best valley girl accent, and right before his eyes, with just a few adjustments to her posture, expression and voice, she seemed to wondrously transform from an overworked, business-minded executive in her early thirties to an ingenue fresh out of highschool. "So it's official now, right? Like, 'official' official? God, sorry, I'm making such a fool of myself. It's just that I can't believe I actually have an agent! It makes it feel like...like I made it, you know?" She preened happily, doing a great impression of half the girls at the agency, "I'm so thankful to you guys for taking a chance on me, I won't let you down!"
"I, uhh...I mean, yes, of course." He blinked, trying to find his footing in the roleplay, still a bit taken aback at how drastic and sudden Lori's change in mood was and how quickly she could improvise. "We really see something in you and we believe you're going to be a success." The young man instinctively read off the standard boilerplate, as familiar to him as the suit he wore. To be fair, it's not like it wasn't true; he knew Living Loud wouldn't take on someone they didn't believe in, even hypothetically.
"Aww! Thanks so much, Mr. Loud!" Lori reached out and put her hand over his.
"Please, call me Lincoln." He smiled genially, falling into her pace without even noticing it. Then all at once he seemed to have suddenly realized what he'd just said and blushed hotly, his sister's eyes sparkling with mirth.
"Lincooooln~" She intoned sweetly, like she was trying out the fit, and he squirmed in place. The way she said his name made his heart race despite himself. Geez, had Lori always been such a good actress? She'd really missed her calling...
"So, umm..." His sister pretended to stumble over her words, pulling her hand back to tuck a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, fingers curling around a few loose strands, "To be honest, I'm still pretty new in town and I sort of don't live in the best area. I know it might be weird to ask, but, well...do you think you could take me home? I'd feel a lot better if a guy walked me to my door." She batted her eyes, "Plus, I can make you something nice to eat! You know, kind of like a thank you for signing me! And, like, it'll give us a chance to get to know each other. I mean, I'm gonna be under you, right?" She asked hopefully.
"Well..." Lincoln tried to think of how he'd act if this was all real, staring at the table contemplatively as he processed what she'd said. "Since we just got you signed, I really should get your contract filed before anything else." He knit his brows, then brightened as though he'd just had a brilliant idea. "Let me send Chunk to take you instead, he's one of our people. Trust me, no one will mess with you if they see you with Chunk." He lifted his eyes to look at her and smiled kindly. "Don't worry, there'll be plenty of time for us to get to know each other in the future. As for dinner, it's sweet of you to offer, but really, you don't have to sweat this whole thing so much. I promise, we're getting just as much out of this partnership as you are."
At first, Lincoln thought he'd played the whole thing pretty smooth. Nevertheless, from the way Lori gawped at him when he was done, the young man couldn't help but get the distinct impression he'd just screwed up.
"Lincoln!" She suddenly yelled, dropping the act, "I COULD NOT have been pushing any harder! What's the matter with you!?"
"S-sorry," He shrank down into his seat, chastised.
"Unbelievable," The blonde huffed. She genuinely needed a moment to compose herself, so flabbergasted was she by the way her brother had chosen to conduct himself during their pretend encounter. "The boss in me wants to give you a raise for your professionalism, but the woman in me wants to fire you for what you've been doing to those poor girls. Keep it up and you're gonna ruin their confidence! Do you know how bad a wrecked confidence can be for a young actress? It could screw up their whole careers!"
"I didn't know!" He protested sheepishly.
"Well, now you know!" She slammed her fist against the table softly.
A moment passed, and though Lori tried admirably to hang on to her indignation, she couldn't help how her scowl began to waver and shake. Before long her stern act fell apart and the blonde held a hand to her face and started cracking up. He blushed; her display simultaneously made Lincoln feel like the biggest dork in the world, yet happy somehow. He liked to hear her laugh.
"You're such an idiot..." She sighed, wiping away the small tear that had gathered in her eye once her giggle fit finally passed (a good half a minute later), letting out one last accidental titter before catching herself and clearing her throat.
"Leave me alone," He grumbled meekly. His sister just chuckled.
"Really though, it's true you're kind of the office heartthrob, Linc." Lori said seriously, "Heck, I bet that boy next door face of yours has sealed the deal for us with a prospect a time or two before. Even I have to admit it's hard not to trust it, and that's with me knowing what you're really like." She smirked and in response Lincoln stammered. What do you mean 'what I'm really like', he wanted to ask, but she cut him off before he could, "If you put in a little bit of effort, you could hook up with someone from the agency easy. Of course, that's against company policy and I'd have to reprimand you." His big sister teased, a playful light glinting in her eye.
Lincoln laughed helplessly. "I won't," he promised. "I don't think I'd be happy with any of them anyway."
"Oh? Why not?" Lori asked curiously, idly stirring her drink with her straw, "They're so pretty."
He shrugged one shoulder. "They're not really my type."
"What's your type?" She folded her hands together and leaned in, more than a little interested in her goofball little brother's estimation of himself.
He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then said, "I don't know. I want all kinds of different, you know, things and I don't think one person could ever really embody them all."
Lori hummed, leaning back. "What are you looking for?"
He told her, just as he had thought about it a million times before, but consciously omitting any comparisons to her and their sisters for fear it might come across wrong. When he was finished, the blonde pursed her lips thoughtfully to the side and hummed again. "So you want your cake and you want to eat it too."
It wasn't a question but a statement.
"Pretty much." He conceded.
"Well, that's your problem." She said like it was obvious, which, he supposed, it was. "You're too picky. I get that those are all qualities you want, but you have to sacrifice sometimes. You can't have everything, I mean, that's just not realistic. If I could sit down and build my perfect guy, he'd have clashing personality traits too, but I can't. I have to buy off the rack." Here she flashed a wan smile to lighten the mood. "You just have to pick the ones that are the most important to you. That way you can actually find someone instead of spending your life waiting for a Princess Charming that'll never show up."
Lincoln stared down into his Long Island, turning over her words, and sighed. "You're right," he said. He took a long drink, then sat the glass down with a thud. Condensation dampened his palm. "I don't even know if I want her to be real, though. I want someone but, like you said, I'm too busy and I'm kind of..." He hesitated, "I don't like rejection. It sucks to put yourself out there and get shot down."
"I get that," Lori agreed gently, "But that's life, Lincoln. When the horse bucks you off, you dust yourself off and climb back on, otherwise you'll never get to Dodge."
Lincoln grinned. That was something Pop-Pop used to say. "I guess," he said. "I just need to find the time."
"You and me both," Lori groaned. "I don't see myself having room in my life for all that for a long, long while. Maybe not even until my forties."
"You work too hard," Lincoln chided her.
"I have to," Lori grinned, "Because you sure don't."
Lincoln laughed. "Buzz off. Hey, speaking of work, what's up with Lola? Are you ready for me to file her paperwork and set a date for her to leave?"
"Yeah, go ahead." His sister nodded. "Get that squared away first, then how much do you have left on Kristy?"
He thought for a moment. "Just the 3oD forms and the severance sheet."
The severance sheet was the final document Kristy Gillespie would sign as a client of Living Loud. It dissolved her contract and officially released her from the agency. Since she had four months left on it, she would have to pay a ten thousand dollar fee or fight it in court. He didn't think she would take that route on her own, but he could imagine her new rep at the Steinem Group whispering into her ear and urging her to sue. It was a fool's errand; the language was airtight and any attempt to get out of the contract any way besides paying the fine or waiting it out would come to naught. Lincoln knew because it had happened before. It would just be an excuse to get LL to tie up resources in litigation, in any case. Show business was ruthless and the big agencies were always looking for ways to trip up smaller competitors before they could gather enough momentum to become a threat.
"I'll finish with Lola's stuff tomorrow and see if I can squeeze Kristy's in." He decided.
Once Lola's paperwork was filed, she could leave any time. He was thinking the 28th. That would give her a few days to settle in before the season started. Giovanni emailed him a circuit schedule and he read it until he remembered every date by heart: the first show was in Milan on September 10 and the final one was in Paris on November 2. There were also practices and public appearances and "receptions", parties thrown by the host city where the girls could meet and mingle with the politicians, prominent citizens, and the wealthy. Those gatherings, while fussily formal, always made Lincoln nervous. He didn't fully trust the men who attended to be gentlemen. They had money and power and in his experience those were exactly the type to try and simply take what they wanted, be it by hook or crook.
Which brought him neatly to his next issue. "Who are we sending with her?"
Every time one of LL's clients went overseas, Lori sent a talent management agent with them. They acted as a manager, bodyguard, and business intermediary. Lincoln trusted all of the agents currently under LL's employ but couldn't decide which one he wanted to accompany Lola. He wouldn't agonize over it so much if this were just any client, but it wasn't, it was his little sister. She was also a special case even setting aside their relation: she could be a handful and whoever went needed to know how to deal with her. His first choice was Chunk, for his patience and unflappable professionalism, but was he really the right fit?
"Chunk?" Lori asked, as if reading his mind.
Lincoln ticked his head from side to side, undecided. "I don't know. He's probably the best one for the job but...yeah, probably Chunk." He tried to convince himself.
Their food arrived shortly thereafter and they chatted about work and, eventually, once they'd had a few drinks, started reminiscing about their childhood and their time back in Royal Woods. It occured to Lincoln that those were the only two things he and Lori ever really discussed, and his mood soured. Of course it was, what else did they have to talk about? Neither one of them had a partner, children, friends, or hobbies outside of their job. Lori didn't bowl on Thursday nights and Lincoln didn't hang out with the guys on the weekends. Hell, they didn't even go to church. Both of them were islands unto themselves and made constant excuses for why they couldn't have personal lives when, Lincoln knew, if they would only try, they could, even if it was just attending a weekly cooking class or something. It was no wonder the two of them were both so lonely and reduced to messaging strangers online and commiserating with each other over late night, 'I'm-too-tired-to-cook' restaurant visits after work; neither of them got out of the house and met people enough to do anything else. You can't have a social life when you're permanently between your office and your apartment.
By the time they parted an hour later, Lincoln was thoroughly spent. At home, he undressed and showered, his movements stiff and robotic, and when he was done, he sat in the living room with his laptop. He traded a few messages with Lily, who was always happy and excited to get to talk to any of her siblings, but that ended when her bed time approached and she was reluctantly forced to hand over the phone and go take her bath; the girl had to get up early since in the summer she played on a soccer team put together by the Royal Woods community center. She was good and really liked it, or so he'd heard. Lily also did very well in school and loved math, science, English, and history. Mom joked that she was the perfect middle ground between Lisa and Lynn, physically active while still academically inclined. Lincoln missed her and wished he was around to share in her life and make memories with her the way he had his other sisters. Somehow it felt like he was playing favorites and Lily had gotten screwed out of experiencing the loving family mayhem all the rest of them had simply by virtue of the sin of being born last.
Ugh, there was that gnawing guilt again...
That night, the young man laid in bed and struggled to find succor in sleep, but for some reason his mind refused to shut down and restless energy pumped through his veins. He thought of Lily, and of Lori, of Kristy and Ronnie Anne, he thought of work, always work.
Maybe he needed some time off, or to stop doing overtime so much. He could leave the office at four'o'clock instead of staying until seven every night. His workload never diminished no matter how late he stayed anyway, so why not shave a few hours off his day? What was it that his sister had said at dinner? 'If you want something you have to go out and take it.' Lincoln wanted…
What?
A girlfriend?
A social life?
Both?
He thought about it, carefully and deliberately, but in the end decided that he just didn't know. He did want both of those things, but the prospect of having them didn't fulfill him the way he felt they should have. Something still felt like it was missing, but to the young man's frustration, no matter how much he searched his heart, he simply couldn't seem to figure out what it was.