Page 143 of The Tryst

Maybe someday soon.

For now, we’re living our best life together.

Her friends are here tonight too. Harlow and Bridger are bowling with Ethan and a bandmate of his. Jules and Camden are on their team too.

My brother returns from grabbing a beer, parks himself by my side, and takes a drink. “You’re up,” I say, nodding to the lane.

But he doesn’t answer. He’s staring at Layla’s friend Jules a lane away. She picks up a bowling ball, then laughs at something her redheaded friend says.

Jules glances toward him and dips her face to hide a smile.

What in the hell is going on?

“Yo, Uncle Finn! It’s your turn,” David calls out.

My brother blinks like he’s clearing off a fog. “Right, thanks.”

As he pops up and grabs his ball, I remember something he said months ago.The other night, I met up with my friend Tate for dinner. His daughter was there. She’s in her mid-twenties, I guess.

Everything clicks. Jules is Jules Marley. Holy fuck. Her dad, Tate, is Finn’s best friend.

Then, my brother nails a spare, and I swear he steals another glance at the woman a lane away.

* * *

In the morning, I zip up my carry-on, then head to the door. My driver waits at the curb to take me to the airport. I’m keynoting at a conference in San Francisco, and I expect Layla to give me a playfully stern send-off. Maybe something likeImagine me in the audience uncrossing my legs.

But when she emerges from the bedroom, her brow is knit.

Her lips are parted.

Her breath is coming fast in worry.

Something’s wrong.

I drop the bag and cross to her. “What is it, sweetheart?”

Shakily, she shows me her phone. I read the text from Mia.

Hey, hun! Can we chat this morning? There are some things I need to talk to you about.

That’s ominous, but I stay upbeat for Layla. “It’ll be fine. Whatever it is, we’ll sort it out,” I reassure her.

“Will we? What if I lose my job? I love this job.”

“I know you do,” I say, “and you’ve been great at it.”

Facts are facts—the Mia Jane brand has grown tremendously since Layla joined. They’ve opened more stores, including one on the same block as Gin Joint, Layla’s favorite hangout spot with her friends. Mia’s also expanded her lines and become a bit of an online sensation with young people. The numbers are hot. The brand is vibing.

“But this doesn’t sound good, Nick,” she says, worry thick in her voice. “What if she’s firing me?”

“She’d be a fool to fire you. I mean that completely.”

She fidgets with her rings. “What if she’s shutting down the company?”

“You’ll find another job. You’re in demand. You’re Lola Jones. Do not ever let anyone forget that.”

She exhales and nods. “I’m Lola Jones.”

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