Page 51 of Layla Meets Her Match

I laugh. Ella, my social media manager, texted me this morning about my Instagram handle getting tagged in the gossip accounts trying to interpret what Jack showing up at Layla’s apartment means and what my relationship with Layla is. None of Layla’s neighbors sold pictures with me in them, but they must have let it slip that I did show up. In any case, I think there’s some kind of neighbor loyalty there that somehow extends to me.

“You want my publicist to put out a statement that we’re just friends?” I ask. I can’t think of another way to quash the love-triangle speculation. As far as I know, Layla hasn’t said anything on her end either.

She frowns at me, and then the expression disappears. “I’m still fine with them speculating about us. As long as you are,” she adds hurriedly.

“Ella thinks it’s great for me. And since most people are under the mistaken impression that Jack is some kind of real-life hero, she says they’re all invested in the battle of the nice guys.”

Layla laughs. “It’s so tempting to leak something that shows how not nice of a guy he actually is. But considering my only worry in this social media storm is that they’ll connect Margot to him, I’d better keep my mouth shut.”

“We could leak that he’s trying to get you to take a part in the next Phantom Hex movie and the director sent him over. I know a guy,” I offer. If it would send rumors flowing a different direction and protect Layla and Margot, I’ll call in a favor with Nick right now.

She tilts her head at me in contemplation. “You know a guy?”

I realize what I’ve said. I don’t want Layla to find out that I talked to Bruno Rattan about her. She still got the part all by herself, but I’d hate for her to second-guess any of it. My pull was so minimal. Miss Sophie did way more than I did when we talked to Bruno. Heck, Layla’s fans that did all the shipping on TikTok between Layla’s character and Detective Leclair did more than me. I just gave the whole thing a little push.

“My dad has a good friend that works at one of the studios. I have dinner with their family every once in a while.”

She nods, still contemplative. Her phone buzzes again, probably Mila, and she looks down at it, distracted from whatever she was thinking. I focus on the road while she texts Mila back.

“Hmmm,” she says after a moment, and I glance over at her.

“What’s up?” I turn the Bronco into the parking lot for Harmony Homes and round the first building to park on the side of it. This door is closer to Dottie’s apartment.

“Dillon told Landon about his theory about the spray, so they went to investigate the bakery truck after we closed today,” she says. Her expression is grim. The mention of Dillon reminds me that she had a theory about the poisoning.

“Did they find something?” I ask.

She presses her lips into a fine line. “Dillon’s surer than ever that it was a spray. They found traces of it on one of the counters in the truck, like the mist of spray landed just outside where the boxes are packed.”

I suck in a breath. “Someone was inside the truck when I got my stuff?”

She puts her hand on my arm. “This kind of confirms what I wanted to talk to you about. To warn you.”

I don’t comment on her hand on my arm since I don’t want her to move it. I also resist the urge to cover it with my hand and then interlace our fingers together. “Warn me about someone trying to poison me?” I raise my eyebrows at her.

She lets out a short chuckle. “I don’t know if you’ve realized, but Astrid has a thing for you. Probably because I pushed football players instead of actors at her so hard that she realized you were the ultimate catch. And …”

She chews on her lip, distracting me from everything she’s saying. Something about Astrid being into me, which I can handle more carefully. I do appreciate the heads-up from Layla, but what does it have to do with the poisoning?—

“Wait. You think it might be Astrid?” The words spill out in shock.

“Based on what Landon and Dillon just found, I don’t know how else to explain it. It wasn’t me or Mila. I’m sorry if you have feelings for Astrid. That sucks to find out.” She’s chewing on her lip again, but her words have me reeling back.

“You think I might have feelings for Astrid?” I’m not even a tiny bit smooth right now, and all I can think is that I have to make sure Layla understands that I have zero feelings for Astrid. Maybe not even friendly ones if she’s trying to hurt me or Mila.

She shrugs a couple times, looking down at her lap, her expression uncomfortable. “I didn’t know, really … I just wanted to make sure, just in case.”

“I don’t have feelings for Astrid at all. I didn’t even realize—Layla.” Words spill from my mouth, and there’s no stopping them. “Layla,” I repeat in a rush. “I’m completely in love with you.”

She blinks. “In love with me?”

The fact that it surprises her makes me laugh out loud. “Layla, I don’t come to the bakery truck every day to support my friend’s sister in her business, although that seems to be a perk. Or maybe not, considering everything that’s happened. I come to the bakery truck every day to see you. And I know that you might not be ready for a relationship yet, and that you’re trying to get on your feet after the mess that Jack made, but I just need you to know that I’m going to be here whenever you are. Days, months, years. Pathetic, I know, but it’s true.”

She stares at me, and her eyes well with tears. She starts shaking her head vigorously. “Not pathetic, Linc. Not at all.” She leans closer. She hasn’t said anything yet about how she feels about me, but the emotion that my admission has caused is a good sign, I think. “What else have you done for me?” she asks gently. “Besides being a ridiculously large tipper?”

She arches an eyebrow at me, and her soft expression has turned a little bit sassy. Sassy enough that I’m about three seconds from leaning the rest of the way across the console to meet her lips. She hasn’t given me the go-ahead though, so I struggle to hold back.

“Uhhhh,” is the best answer I can come up with given the state of my mind.

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