Chapter 15

The smell of Mila's bakery truck is one of the most comforting smells I know. Maybe because I've learned to associate the scent of vanilla and cookies and chocolate with the job my friend gave me to help me out. The atmosphere of this truck is all wrapped up in the love and friendship I feel the instant I step in, the way I have every day since Mila hired me. Being away from it for a few days seems to have intensified it all.

A guy I don't know rounds the back of the truck just as I step up inside, and I tilt out a moment to watch him.

"That's the bodyguard I told you about," Mila says from behind me. "Stand down."

I relax and adjust Margot on my hip in the high-end sling that was a gift from Court's aunt Sophie. If I knew where she'd gotten it, I'd give it as many stars as possible. It's soft and comfy and has grown with Margot in a way that makes it easy for me to do stuff hands free.

By the mess on the counter, Mila has been here a while baking. She dusts off her hands on her apron and then reaches across the counter, snagging a couple pieces of light, fluffy bread. She hands them both to me, and I break off a piece of one slice for Margot before taking a bite of my slice.

Mila bakes such good bread that you don't even need to slather it in butter to be in absolute heaven.

The line is crazy from the moment I set out the menu board and settle into my stool. I guess denying Mila's fans her goodies for a few days has whetted some appetites. I don't see Lincoln among the morning customers, but that doesn't surprise me. He and Eli will have meetings and walk-throughs before they hop on a flight for New York. He won't have time to come by today. Besides, since I follow him on Instagram now, I know he was at some Hollywood party last night. There was a selfie of him and Anthony Hurley with an actress in the background that Lincoln's caption said Hurley has a crush on. I bet it was the kind of party Jack goes to now, and I have a pinch of jealousy, wishing that Lincoln had asked me to go with him.

Then I shake that away too. I'm not actually Actress Layla Delaford. That was another life and a future that won't happen now. And I'm not Lincoln Knight's girlfriend either. There's no reason for him to ask me to hobnob with him at some star-studded party.

Nearly every customer asks if everything is all right with Mila's personal emergency, the excuse we used on social media to explain closing for a few days. It's heartwarming to have such loyal customers, and I reassure all of them that things are well.

I'm absorbed in one such conversation when I hear Astrid say brightly from next to me, "Oh, hi, Lincoln!"

My head snaps up and I catch him moving toward her side of the line. He shoots me a reluctant look, maybe because he ended up in Astrid's line and we can't chat for a minute like usual. I wave back.

"What can I get for you?" Astrid asks. "I bet you've been craving some sugar cookies."

I glance over and catch Lincoln grimacing a little. Probably not, I think with a snicker. That's what started this all.

"I saw some cheddar sourdough on the board. I'll take a loaf of that."

Astrid's expression falls—weird. "Of course."

I'm getting up anyway, so I wave her back down when she moves to get the order, and she pinches her lips together. "This will keep things moving," I say in a low voice, gesturing to the ever-increasing line that's halfway down the block right now.

She nods tightly and smiles at Lincoln as the next customer moves up. She asks me to grab another loaf of the cheddar sourdough, and I hand over the two loaves to her when I sit back down.

"So, has Zane mentioned anything about us getting together again?" I hear Astrid ask Lincoln as she gives him his loaf.

His face colors, and I know that's not good news. I scowl to myself. I thought Astrid and Zane seemed to hit it off.

"The last few days have been busy, getting ready for the game this weekend. We haven't had a chance to talk really." He shrugs and gives me a wave.

"Oh," Astrid says. She moves on to the next customer.

"Thanks, Astrid," he says, smiling genuinely at her, and her face lights up at the little gesture. He is such a good guy. Enough so that I ignore the little prick in my chest at not getting that smile directed my way simply because fate put him in the wrong place in line.

"I'll talk to him about it later," I say in a low voice to Astrid when I get up to grab a few more items.

She sighs. "It's okay," she says.

I can't help watching Lincoln head back down the sidewalk, where I can see his blue Bronco parked in the distance. I didn't even get to wish him good luck on his game. I'm sure he's heading straight to the airport after this.

A squeal from Margot in the bouncer at my feet brings my attention to Landon, who's just walked in. "Heard it was busy," he says, picking Margot up. "Can I help for an hour or two?"

"Yes, we could use someone to box up orders," Mila says. "I'm so behind on cooking, I'm zero help right now."

He leans over the counter and gives her a quick kiss. "Good problem to have," he says. "Time for a storefront?" He's been suggesting this for weeks.

"Put a pin in that." Mila shoots him a look. She loves her truck. I don't know if she can give it up. She's also concerned about the investment a shop would be. "Get to work," she teases.

My back is sore by the end of the day, so as soon as we get home, I plop Margot on the rug I bought to cover the nasty floors for some free wiggle room and then lie down next to her, arms and legs splayed out around me. I pull my phone out and keep one eye on Margot rolling this way and that while I send a text to Lincoln.

Layla:Didn't get to tell you good luck for tomorrow!

Lincoln's answer comes faster than I expect. He's probably already at their hotel, relaxing for the night and getting his head in the right space.

Lincoln:The truck was super busy today. I'm so glad that closing down for a few days didn't hurt Mila's business.

Layla:Her cookies are too good. If people knew, they'd probably risk poisoning for them. *crazy-face emoji*

Lincoln: I don't doubt it. The line this morning says it all. How old do you think Margot needs to be before she can start helping?

Layla:She'll be a great runner in a couple years, I'm sure. Or maybe she can take my place taking orders if I ever land something better. Which would be hard. Mila is the best boss.

Lincoln:I wish Mila was my boss, tbh.

Layla:Are your parents coming to your game tomorrow? Do they live close enough?

Lincoln:Yes and yes. They live in Pennsylvania, but they're flying in for the game.

Layla:I bet you're excited to see them.

Lincoln:I am. No educational day trips this time though. We'll probably just do dinner.

Layla:A little bit of a disappointment, I'm guessing.

Lincoln: I think my mom mentioned something about bringing me souvenirs from their trip to Philadelphia last week.

Lincoln:They've been a million times. It's a wonder they still find stuff to see there.

Lincoln: She also put in a request that we take a quick, self-guided tour of some historical sites like the Federal Hall National Memorial on Wall Street, which I unfortunately had to squash.

Layla:Party pooper …

Lincoln:*laughing emoji* Seriously. I'll just have to make it up to her at the end of the season. She's always talked about visiting Paris and seeing its history. I want to take her next summer.

I have to forcibly stop myself from texting a line of heart-eyed emojis. Also a request to go with them. He's sweet without even meaning to be. I think. He probably knows I got a little melty on our date when he was talking about the cute trips he takes with his parents. He could have steered the conversation this way on purpose.

But the thing is, my heart says Lincoln's not that kind of guy. He's no actor. It's definitely something the Phantom Dad would do.

Layla:Best Son of the Year Award goes to you. Stop making the rest of us look bad.

Lincoln:*blushing emoji*

His response is so spot-on and so self-aware of the kind-of-shy thing he has going on that it makes me laugh out loud. Margot copies me, and I set my phone down for a second, ignoring the buzz that tells me another text from Lincoln has come in. I laugh loudly again but say "hee hee hee" instead, which makes Margot giggle and pull herself toward me. She's not crawling yet, except for a kind of wormy army crawl thing she does, but it will come soon. She claps her hand on my lips and laughs again, so I let out another loud laugh, this time snickering in a high-pitched tone.

It"s several minutes later before Margot is bored with the game and becomes enthralled instead with the empty box from the curtains that arrived today. I grab my phone up.

Lincoln:Ever the party pooper … I have to go. Gotta watch a little bit of film with the rest of the offense before I get to bed by curfew. Talk to you tomorrow.

Layla:You'll be amazing!

He won't see my text for a while anyway, so I make Margot laugh again and snap a picture to send to him, captioning it Margot wishes you good luck too! Then I slide my phone into my pocket and roll myself up to make us some dinner.