CHAPTER 2 JOLENE

Pull yourself together, Bailey.

If there's one thing I've learned over my years as a reporter, it's that there is rarely only one option on the table.

I need a minute to think. To strategize. To find my way out of this mess.

I ignore Rivera's text for now, and I don't mention anything to Lincoln about what I overheard last night. I think the hardest part about all of this is that I literally have nowhere to turn to ask for advice. I guess that's part of the perils of being in a secret relationship.

I don't want to tell Sam about Asher. I don't want to tell anybody about it. The fewer people who know, the better the chances are that nobody will ever find out. And for right now, protecting Lincoln is my top priority. But the amount of guilt I feel over that is un-freaking-real.

I can't avoid Rivera forever, and I'm well aware of that. I head home for a quick shower, and the boys and Sam are already gone. And then I need to get to the office, where Rivera will be waiting for my response.

My heart thunders in my chest as I pull into the parking lot, and I see Rivera's car already there, which causes my stomach to twist violently. I glance at the building. He's inside there, waiting to pounce, and I hate him.

So instead of responding to his threats via text message, I decide to confront him in person.

He's sitting in Marcus's office like it's his own now, and I slam the door shut behind me when I walk in.

I hold up my phone and realize my hand is trembling. "Really, Ryan? Issuing threats to print a story you know will ruin my reputation? You know blackmail is illegal, right?"

"It's not blackmail," he says dismissively.

"It's the fucking definition of blackmail!" I screech at him.

He sighs. "It's business, Bailey. Get over yourself."

"If you run this story while Marcus is gone, you know he'll fire you."

"Which is precisely why I wouldn't be so stupid as to run it myself." He rolls his eyes like he's dealing with an amateur.

"I will not be intimidated by you," I hiss.

"I'm not trying to intimidate you. I'm just trying to strike a deal."

"Well I sent the photos to Marcus along with a screenshot of your texts," I say.

He calls my bluff. "Right. Like I believe that for a second."

I pull up Marcus's contact. I don't want to bother him with this when he's dealing with personal issues, but Rivera is leaving me no choice.

"Are you gonna tell on me?" he asks, mimicking a child's voice as he mocks me.

I blow out a frustrated breath. "I will if I have to. Stop threatening me or you will regret it."

"Resign or you will."

I storm out of his office at his flippant words. He doesn't give a single fuck about me or my reputation, but the truth he hasn't really thought about is what yanking me will do to the team. I've gained their trust over the last couple months, and it's not like Rivera has an open line to Jack Dalton the way I do.

In fact, I sort of get the impression Jack doesn't care for Rivera at all. He seemed happy when I scored the position over my nemesis, and for good reason. Ryan is a douchebag.

He hasn't done anything with those photos just yet, but I have zero faith he'll keep them to himself very long. I just need to lay low, and I probably need Lincoln to take Sam out again, or at least to be seen with her.

I text Ellie.

Me: Do you have time to chat?

Ellie: Busy day today, but I can swing over after I get the kids down. Around nine?

Me: Perfect.

I text Lincoln, too, to see if he can come, but he doesn't reply right away. I know he's busy with meetings and practice and running a football team, so I don't expect him to answer right away.

Which is why I'm sort of shocked that he shows up on Sam's doorstep at the same time as Ellie.

I double check the boys are sleeping, and I meet them in the kitchen. "Ryan Rivera has photos of me going into Lincoln's place last night," I blurt.

"That dumb motherfucker," Lincoln mutters.

"Is he going to use them?" Ellie asks.

"He told me I need to resign my position if I want him to keep them private."

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. "Okay, implications. One," she begins, looking at me. "You lose credibility since your best friend is supposedly with him. Two, both your families will find out. Three," she says, turning to Lincoln. "You look like a cheater since you're with Sam." She sighs and taps her chin. "Goals…for you both to keep your jobs and keep your reputations clean. Lincoln, I'll need you to be seen with Sam. No arguments."

"But—" he begins.

She shakes her head. "No arguments with me, but what I mean is no arguing with her on your date. Just be seen and get out. Five minutes is all we need—enough time for a photo opp. Hell, go to the grocery store, I don't care. Just be sure to tip off the paps first. But then lay low and stay focused. Jolene, stay out of Lincoln's place. We'll start there, and I'll figure out a follow up plan. Anything else?"

I shake my head. "Thanks for meeting with us."

"You're lucky I live close." She stands and turns to leave.

"Thanks, Ellie," Lincoln says, and we walk her out. We stand by the front door a few beats, each of us studying the other one.

"How was your day?" I ask softly.

"Busy. You?"

"Same." I press my lips together as I wait for him to grab me into his arms and tell me everything's going to be okay. But that's sort of the whole problem. I'm not sure it will be.

"Why didn't you tell me about Rivera's pictures?" he asks.

I lift a shoulder. "I didn't know what to do with it, so I held onto it. I told him to back off, but I'm pretty sure he's not going to listen."

"Think I should have a chat with him?"

I lift a shoulder. I'm not sure if it's a great idea or a terrible one, but one thing is certain. "If he knows you know about the photos, he'll be more convinced than ever that there's something going on between us."

"Fair point." He leans his forehead down to mine. "What the fuck are we going to do, Jo?"

I shake my head, and my forehead rolls along his. "I don't have a clue. But I know I'm exhausted. Want to spend the night?"

"What about Jonah?" he asks.

"I'll lock my door and we'll make sure you're up before he usually gets up. I just need to be in your arms tonight. Okay?"

He nods. "Yeah. I need that, too."

It's a much better night's rest than the one before, and my alarm goes off a little after six. I usher Lincoln out to the couch, where he falls back asleep for a bit while I take my shower, and I feel a little better today knowing Ellie and Lincoln know about Rivera and it's one less thing I have to worry about on my own.

After I finish getting ready, I head down the hallway toward the kitchen when I hear the unmistakable sound of my son's giggles followed by a manly, loud, boisterous laugh.

I can't help the smile that spreads across my lips and the warmth that radiates in my chest.

"What are you two laughing about?" I ask as I walk into the room.

"Nothing," Jonah says at the same time as Lincoln, and a twinkle lights both their eyes. I glance at the television and see Minions on again, and I just get the strangest inclination that this big, bad football coach who commands every room he walks into was imitating minions to my seven-year-old son's absolute and utter delight.

"Hour until the bus," I say lightly to Jonah as my first warning that he should start the process of getting dressed and brushing his teeth. I head to the kitchen and pack lunches for the boys. Sam saunters in looking tired, and I hand her a cup of coffee as she offers a bleary thanks and leaves to get dressed.

I get breakfast going, too—pancakes and bacon for everybody, and then we're down to thirty minutes. "Thirty minutes and you're still not dressed," I call to Jonah from the kitchen. I can see him from here, and he's still watching Minions with Lincoln and now Cade, who is fully dressed with his teeth brushed, has joined them. "Breakfast in three minutes."

"Okay, little dude, you better go get ready," Lincoln tells Jonah. Little dude? Adorable. "I'll time how long it takes you. Ready? Go!"

I've already said it twice and the kid has basically ignored me, but Lincoln says it once and Jonah scampers off to his room to get dressed.

It's like pure magic.

I've never been able to find the solution to having enough time to get dressed and eat breakfast in the morning. Every morning, it's the same rush, and I've searched and searched for some solution to that.

Apparently, that solution is none other than Lincoln Nash.