Page 36 of Layla Meets Her Match

Lincoln: When do you start filming the new show?

Layla: Not for a few weeks. My agent says they’re still casting a couple roles.

Lincoln: You excited?

Layla: Of course. But also crazy nervous. It feels like it’s been so long. I think Margot might be tired of learning my lines. And also she’s not great at helping with my cues.

Lincoln: *laughing-crying emoji* I’d be happy to read lines for you anytime. Just say the word.

Layla: That would be awesome. Ty!

Lincoln: I was thinking about our celebration for you getting the part. Since Margot is coming along, I thought maybe I could have dinner delivered here from wherever you want and we could watch some of those old sitcoms together to get you ready.

Lincoln: I figured you might not want to put Margot in front of cameras by going out somewhere. But it’s up to you!

Layla: …

Layla: …

Layla: *sobbing emoji* Lincoln, that’s so thoughtful. I loved our night on the town and even liked people talking about us, but you’re right that I don’t want people speculating stuff about my daughter. Thank you. *heart emoji*

Lincoln: You’re welcome.

CHAPTER 21

LAYLA

Considering it took Lincoln Knight a full fifteen minutes to respond after I ended a text message with a heart, I overthought that message until he responded.

And to be honest, that simple “you’re welcome” didn’t help matters.

He probably thinks I’m coming on to him. Despite all the ways it’s looked like I’m flirting with him, he hasn’t said anything to me. If he liked me back, he’d do that, wouldn’t he? He’d say, “Hey, this is a fun thing we’ve got going on. Wanna go out?”

He has kind of asked me out. Me and my daughter. For a celebration. It’s a total friend thing. The way it should be.

This is how my brain goes around and around as I walk to work on Saturday morning. Margot agrees with me on all points with hearty squeals. Or she could be cheering on the squirrel that follows us for three blocks. Hard to say with an eight-month-old.

When we approach the bakery truck, I see Astrid pacing around several feet behind it, on the phone. She’s scowling, and I’m pretty sure she’s arguing with whoever she’s talking to. I forget my dilemma with Lincoln—mostly—and head toward her. I’m ready to intervene if Kipp can’t take no for an answer.

“You can’t do that!” she says in a high, fearful voice. She looks up, sees me approaching, and ends the call. “Hey,” she says, plastering a smile on her face when I get to her. She crouches down next to Margot and gives her a more genuine smile, making Margot reach toward her.

“Everything okay?” I ask. The wobbly tone to her voice when I walked up has all the hairs on my arm standing on end.

“Totally fine,” she says, her voice calm and making me question what I heard a moment ago.

After giving Margot a quick kiss on the cheek, Astrid stands and leads us toward the back of the truck, where the bodyguard is making a round. She stiffens when she sees him, and I draw in a breath. I know he’s protecting us, but he’s also a reminder of the awful stuff going on with Mila’s truck. She’s been talking about shutting down until the police find out who’s doing this. It has me thinking if my videos can tide us over until I start getting a paycheck from the show.

“What if it’s not just Lincoln that’s getting poisoned items, and we just don’t know?” Mila had asked Landon last night.

Landon and I both pointed out that people would be sure to report that.

She’d settled by making a sign to post on the menu board for the foreseeable future. “Sweet Kisses has been the target of some foul play. If you see anything off, please report to us or the police immediately.” It’s going to make for an interesting day, for sure.

“Astrid, if you need help with something?—”

She cuts me off. “Everything is fine,” she repeats. She pauses at the back door while I get Margot out of her stroller.

“Kipp?” I guess, eyeing her.

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