Page 1 of Layla Meets Her Match

CHAPTER 1

LAYLA

I place a bright red block, this one with the number two on each of its sides, on top of the tower I’m creating with my eight-month-old daughter Margot. She claps and giggles when I move to pick up another one. This is our tallest tower today. Seven blocks. I know it doesn’t seem like much, but when Margot knocks them down almost as fast as I can stack, it’s an accomplishment.

I reach for another block, this one green and with the number seven, and try to hold back a smile as I carefully add it to the tower. If I laugh, Margot gets excited and down goes the tower.

“We’ve made the world record!” I say, tempering my excitement a little. Margot claps and bounces, leaning toward the tower, but she lets it stay intact for now. I keep an eye on her as I grab another block.

She leans forward onto her hands, coming very close to the tower. I’m pretty sure this is the end.

Yep. She swipes at it with a pudgy hand, sending blocks scattering across the floor of the living room. I let out all the laughter I’ve been holding back, and Margot echoes my laugh. I reach over and scoop her into my arms, unable to resist kissing her chubby cheeks any longer.

The front door swings open, and my cousin Landon walks in, holding hands with his fiancée, Mila Dash.

“Uh! Uh!” Margot calls to get their attention, holding her hands out. We’ve lived with Landon since I brought her home from the hospital, and he’s been the dad to her that she’s needed. Besides me, I think Landon is her favorite person in the world. And some days that’s up for debate.

Mila responds immediately, of course. Given her obsession with my adorable baby, she’s top three on Margot’s list. (Okay, who isn’t obsessed with this amazing baby? I dare you to try to think of someone.) Grocery bag in hand, Mila still makes a beeline straight for Margot rather than the kitchen, where Landon has gone to put away the groceries from the bags he carried in.

Mila bends over. “Hello, sweet doll,” she coos, planting her own kiss on Margot’s cheek. “I’ll come back for you,” she promises when Margot still reaches for her. “I have to help Landon with dinner.”

She goes to the kitchen, smiling at Landon as she slides past him and sets her one grocery bag on the counter. I snuggle Margot closer, watching them move around the kitchen together. There’s an ease to this, like it’s almost a dance, as though they can sense the exact location of the other. They’re perfect for each other, and they wouldn’t be together if it weren’t for me.

I had help, of course. Mila’s brother and his wife did their own share of matchmaking. But Landon would have never gone for it if I hadn’t been pushing him, nudging him with texts and hints that he should ask her out. He kept saying he was waiting for Mila to be ready, but I could tell he needed the boosts of confidence that I could give him in being certain that Mila was in love with him too.

They bump into each other, and both grin. Landon wraps his arms around Mila’s waist and plants a quick kiss on her nose and then on her lips. She sighs, and they go back to making dinner together as though the moment is so normal it doesn’t matter.

Jealousy bounces through me, and I can’t stop it, even though I’ve been trying to train myself not to care about what my own future looks like. Dating wise, I mean.

I look down at the most gorgeous baby on the planet. Given that the father-who-must-not-be-named is hotter than I like to admit (or maybe that’s my excuse?), it’s no surprise that Margot Delaford is a looker.

The point is, this part of my future I know by heart—raise this baby girl the best I can and don’t let anything else distract me. The way she got here was a huge mistake; I can’t deny that. But the fact that she is here is not.

I would fall for all of his charm all over again if it meant getting Margot here.

I get up and move to the overstuffed rocker recliner that Landon bought when she was born. Margot yawns and turns her face into my shoulder. A glance at my watch says it’s getting close to her bedtime. I should go lay her down in our bedroom. I have a pile of projects in my inbox to get to. Mila and Landon think I do data entry at night to help pay my bills, but I actually make video ads for phone games. You know the free kind? And then while you’re playing, an ad for another game pops up, and it’s someone telling you how great this other game is. Pay attention next time, because you could be seeing my face encouraging you to download Solitaire Teddy Bear Blast or some such thing. It’s steady work, because apparently my sleep-deprived face is very popular.

Okay, false modesty aside, I know how to use concealer like it’s a magic potion, and I chased acting long enough to get some insider tips on makeup. Thankfully, that’s paying off somehow. And it helps that my face is recognizable enough. Not that people know my name, but I’ve been on a few shows and had a guest acting gig on a popular detective show.

But I don’t want to start on those projects yet. I want to rock Margot to sleep and fantasize about how amazing it would be to have the kind of effortless relationship that Mila and Landon have.

Of course, that’s never going to happen, because I don’t date anymore. I need to focus 100% on raising my daughter. I don’t have the time to fall for another guy who’s going to love me and leave me and turn out to be a first-class jerk-face.

Landon moves into the living room and turns on the TV, tapping the remote until the Rays football game comes on. Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten that they were playing tonight. Landon says they’re in prime time because they’re doing so good thanks to Eli, Mila’s brother and the new starting quarterback. It will be a good excuse to rock Margot for longer while I watch the game. And also avoid my video projects. We have to watch Eli, of course!

“I’m grilling burgers,” Landon says when he goes back into the kitchen. “How many do you want?”

I can’t help a laugh. He asks this every time, like one day I’m going to tell him two or three. To be fair, when we hang out with Eli and his teammates, they do answer in the multiples. “Just one today.” It is tempting to say two or three since the heavenly scent of Mila’s homemade buns lingers in the air after she made them earlier today. One burger, please, three buns.

My phone buzzes from my pocket, and I pull it out to look at it. There’s a new email in my inbox, and I cringe to think that I might need to add another project to the growing list, until I notice the sender is the manager of an apartment complex that has a studio apartment vacancy I applied for.

I tap into the message. “I got an interview!” I whisper-shout. It’s already second nature when Margot is sleeping. “I got an interview for that apartment.” I pump my hand into the air in celebration. The list for the studio apartment just a few blocks from here must be miles long, but my application somehow got me an interview.

“Yes!” Mila and Landon both whisper-shout together, and then they do a quiet dance around the kitchen. I appreciate their celebration. Landon doesn’t want me to move out. Well, he does and he doesn’t. He’s worried about me living on my own with Margot. He has helped me a lot in the seven months since her birth—as much as a dad might, even. Waking up with her in the middle of the night? Check. Walking the floor with her when she’s been extra fussy? Check. You name it, he's done it.

But he and Mila are engaged now, and I’m not going to be their third wheel when they get married and she moves in. Even if they both say they want it that way. (I can’t blame them. Margot is a little bit addicting.)

“When’s the interview?” Mila asks.

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