Page 37 of Layla Meets Her Match

She shakes her head. “No. It’s a director that I’m working with. He’s super demanding.”

I pull Margot into my arms and cast Astrid a comforting look. “That’s hard, but also great that you have a job. Congrats! What is it?” What I heard as fearful was probably just frustration.

She waves her hand. “Just some little job. A commercial for social media or something.” Her cheeks color.

I put a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be embarrassed,” I tell her. “No job is small. I make ad videos for that kind of thing all the time at nights. It’s how I afford to have my own apartment.”

She draws in a breath. “Yeah, okay.”

I slip Margot into my sling and follow Astrid inside to start getting ready for the day. “How about another double date with me and Lincoln?” I ask, hoping to brighten her day. She could use a night out if she’s got a difficult job she has to go and do. “He has a friend.”

Astrid’s cheeks turn pinker. “That’s okay,” she says, grabbing a stack of boxes to fold into shape. “I … there’s kind of someone else.”

“Oh, have you and Kipp decided to be exclusive?” I try to keep my expression neutral and my tone light, even though I disapprove.

“No, no, no,” she says. “It’s not him.” She pinches her lips into a line, but the expression fades. “It’s someone else. I don’t want to say because I don’t think he thinks of me like that.” She shrugs and looks down at the boxes.

Oh, girl. I know the feeling.

I mentally slap myself. It doesn’t matter. I’m not dating right now, and that’s okay. “Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know. It’s Shern from Eli’s house the other night. He told Lincoln he thought you were cute.”

She chuckles. “I’ll let you know.”

I’m not sure how to feel when Lincoln ends up ordering from me about fifteen minutes later when he arrives before heading to the Rays facility for meetings. My heart starts thumping at the sight of him, and I almost want to wave him over to Astrid’s line so I can calm down. And so he doesn’t get the wrong idea about how I feel, of course.

How do I feel?

“Foul play?” he says in a low voice and with a sexy, mischievous smile that I could melt into a pool over. (Oh, seriously. Like I was going to send him to Astrid’s line.)

I chuckle. “We couldn’t exactly say people were being poisoned,” I reply in a low voice. “But Mila also felt bad going about business as usual. She wants to encourage people to report it to her if they get sick.”

The smile doesn’t leave Lincoln’s face as he nods. “It’s smart.”

“Hey, Lincoln!” Astrid says brightly from her station as she swipes a credit card from a customer.

He turns. “Morning, Astrid. How are you today?”

“Really good.” She hands back the credit card, keeping her eyes on Lincoln. “Good luck against Seattle tomorrow. I know that’s a big game.”

“Thanks.” He clears his throat. He looks back to me, and I notice the way he drums the fingers of one hand in a steady rhythm against his navy-blue joggers. “Eli and I talked about getting a suite for you all to watch the game. We thought that would be fun.” His voice rises at the end of each sentence, questioning if that’s something we’d like to do. “That way you could corral Margot if you brought her or whatever, you know?”

I glance back at Mila. “We already told Eli we were in. It sounds way fun,” she says.

“I’d love to,” I say. “I’ll probably get a babysitter for Margot though, so I can just relax and enjoy the game.”

“Yeah.” Lincoln nods quickly. “Good idea. But she is welcome if you decide to bring her,” he adds. “You’re invited too, of course, Astrid,” he says, turning back to her.

A prick of jealousy dances through my chest, kind of like when she was so excited to see him at Eli’s earlier this week. I sweep it away. I don’t need to be jealous of Astrid’s attention to him. First of all, Lincoln and I are just friends, even if my daydreams sometimes pretend otherwise. (This is not out of the ordinary. Women fantasize about pro athletes all the time. It’s not weird.) Second, he’s trying to set her up with someone else. At my request.

I narrow my eyes at the way she chats with him now about how she’ll know where to go, and he responds by saying he’ll text her the details. He has her number?

I shake my head. This is a dumb train of thought to jump on.

“Dude,” the guy behind Lincoln says, making Lincoln jump. “Not to be rude or anything, but are you going to order?”

Lincoln blushes. “Oh, yeah. Sorry about that. I’ll take half a dozen raspberry muffins.” He says the order so fast I almost don’t catch it. I barely have it tapped in before he’s holding up his phone, ready to use it to pay for the order. “Sorry,” he says to the guy again as he steps aside.

The guy blinks at him, maybe catching sight of Lincoln’s face for the first time, or maybe it’s the Rays logo on Lincoln’s oversize hoodie, but now the guy’s cheeks redden. I think because he recognizes Lincoln. He waves away Lincoln’s concern. “No problem. No problem.”

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