by Kendall Ryan
GRIFFIN
After dropping off the moving truck and picking up my car, I drive back over to the new house to find Layne’s mom and Kristen preparing to leave. The boxes have all been put in the right rooms and the furniture is assembled and in its place.
I’m genuinely happy for Layne that she finally has her dream house. She’s always working so hard to make other people happy; it’s nice to see her do something big for herself.
I climb out of my car and walk over to where the ladies are saying good-bye.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Griffin,” Layne’s mom says with a smile. “It’s nice to know there’s at least one helpful young man left in LA.”
“Okay, Mom, time to go,” Layne says, urging her toward her car as Kristen snorts out a laugh.
“I do what I can,” I say with a wink at her mom. I always get a kick out of older women hitting on me, and it’s even better that it’s Layne’s mom.
“See you at home, Griff,” Kristen says, fake punching me on the arm.
I stand in the driveway, waving as they climb into their cars and pull out. It’s almost six in the evening, and my entire body feels beat. I hit the gym regularly, but moving furniture all day was a full-body workout. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t trying to show off my strength, just a little.
Once the cars have faded into the distance, Layne moves toward the porch and collapses into one of her Adirondack chairs.
“So, how does it feel knowing that you’re going to be sleeping in your very own house tonight?” I ask, following her lead and sliding into a chair. I made sure her bedroom was all set up before we called it quits.
A cool breeze blows by and I breathe it in, staring out at the sun that’s quickly sinking.
“It feels pretty damn amazing,” she says, turning to look up at the house. “Maybe not exactly how I pictured moving into my dream house, but I’m excited for this next chapter.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, frowning. All I’ve heard for weeks is how excited Layne is to move into this place. I’m surprised to hear there’s something she’s unhappy about.
“Oh no, everything’s great,” she says quickly. “It’s just . . . I don’t know. I shouldn’t complain. I have a great life, you know?”
“Layne, you know you can tell me anything, right? I would never judge you,” I say, turning toward her.
She looks down, not quite meeting my eyes. “Well, I guess I just assumed when I moved into a home, it would be with—you know, a family.” She sighs and bites her lip before looking up at me. “Does that make me sound totally pathetic?”
“No, it doesn’t,” I tell her honestly. “I know you want a family, but it’s not like you can’t still have all that. You’re just doing it in a different order than you thought.”
She nods, but it’s clear she’s lost in her own thoughts. Finally, she says, “I guess I just feel like what’s the point of working hard and having all this money if there’s no one to enjoy it with?”
I reach over, taking her hand in mine. “Believe me, you’ll have someone to share it with. You’re amazing, but these things take time but one day you’ll get everything you want”.
Layne smiles, then shakes her head. “You’re right. I think I’m just tired.”
She stands up and stretches.
“I guess this was a little more than you signed up for when you offered to help me move,” she says with a laugh, then glances around. “It’s such a nice night. Do you want to hang out and have a drink in the backyard? I promise I’m done being all moody and existential.”
Unsure, I hesitate. I have plans to meet up with Cora for a movie night, and two minutes ago I was planning to leave. But now I don’t feel so good about skipping out and leaving Layne alone in this big house when she’s feeling vulnerable.
“Yeah, a drink sounds great.” I pull out my phone and shoot off a quick text to Cora.
Gonna be a little late. Can we start movie night later?
I ignore the twinge of guilt I feel as I follow Layne inside, where she pulls out tequila and margarita mix.
“Some things never change,” I say with a grin as she mixes up two perfectly crafted margaritas.
“I’m a woman who knows what she likes,” she says, handing me an icy drink with a smile.
I follow her into the backyard, where earlier I assembled a new patio set. It’s the time of night when the sun has set just enough to cool things off. Layne plugs in the string lights we looped around the fence earlier, giving the space a warm glow. It’s quiet in the yard, other than the sound of far-off cars.
Layne runs her fingertips over the back of one of the black iron chairs before sinking down into its plush cushioned seat.
“I’ve always thought of myself as an apartment kind of guy, but I could get used to this lifestyle,” I say, leaning back in my own chair. “You did good finding this place, Anderson.”
“It’s pretty great, isn’t it? This yard is what sold me on the house.” She sips her drink and lets out a sigh, pulling her dark hair out of the confines of the ponytail she’s had it secured in all day.
Dressed in jeans and a white T-shirt, with her hair loose and wild, she looks younger than her birth certificate claims. Even if I was friend-zoned a long time ago, it’s difficult not to notice how gorgeous Layne is. I don’t see that changing anytime soon, whether I’m dating someone or not.
I’d never cheat or do anything to break Cora’s trust, but that doesn’t mean I can just turn off the feelings I have for Layne. The hot encounter we had on her couch after her last breakup didn’t help the lustful thoughts I still secretly harbor.
The way she moved against my lap, the soft, need-filled sounds she made that went straight to my groin, the way she kissed, like she was all in and ready for whatever I could give her . . . They’re only things I let myself think about late at night when I’m alone. And when those memories do invade my brain, my hand usually makes its way under my briefs for a quick jerk session.
Layne would kill me if she knew I still thought about that night, and Cora would definitely dump my ass. Which is why I should suppress those memories. But it’s easier said than done, especially now, watching Layne lick an icy droplet of lime from her plump bottom lip, and run her fingers through the long lengths of her tangled hair.
“I’m thinking about having a housewarming party. Maybe then I can finally meet your mysterious girlfriend,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows as she sets her drink on the glass-topped table.
Cora.
Right.
My girlfriend.
Deciding it’s time to remove myself from further temptation, I stand up and stretch. “I should get going.”
“Are you sure?” Layne asks. “I’ve got that whole bottle of tequila. Don’t make me drink it alone.”
“Believe me, the last thing I want to do is facilitate another tequila binge, but I’m late to meet Cora,” I say, grinning at Layne. “We have big plans to watch Psycho. Can you believe she’s never seen Hitchcock?” I shake my head in mock disappointment. “Kids these days.”
“Ah, okay,” Layne says.
Something passes over her face that I can’t quite place. But when I blink, she’s smiling again, leaving me wondering if I imagined it.
She follows me inside where I set my empty glass in the sink. We walk to the front door together, and I take one last look around.
“This place looks really good,” I tell her, smiling. “I have a good feeling about it.”
Layne smirks at me. “I hope so, because I just sank a small fortune into buying it. Good luck with Cora’s cinematic education,” she adds, leaning against the door frame as I step out onto the front porch. “And thanks for helping me today. I know it was a lot.”
“I was happy to help.” As I give her a quick hug good-bye, I breathe in her familiar scent and then take a step back, releasing her.
I wave good-bye to Layne as I pull out of the driveway. Watching her turn to head back into her big, empty hou
se gives me a sinking feeling in my stomach. But I shouldn’t feel bad. Layne’s an adult and doesn’t need me to watch over her, but something about her seemed more vulnerable today than usual. Then again, why do I care so much? She’s made it clear that she can handle herself.
My mind is still on Layne as I pull up to Cora’s place. I stopped on the way to get her a sorry I skipped out on our date treat that will hopefully make up for not spending more time with her on her one free night.
I use the spare key to let myself into the apartment, calling out as I walk in.
“Hey, babe,” I say into the hallway, but the apartment is silent. “I know I’m late, but I got your favorite chocolate chip cookies to make it up to you.”
I step into the living room, where Cora is sitting on the couch, and get the sense that something’s wrong. She’s giving me a look I can’t quite read. She sniffles quietly, and her eyes seem a little puffy.
“Cora, what’s wrong?” I ask, quickly walking over to the couch to give her a kiss.
When she stares straight ahead without kissing me back, it confirms that something’s wrong. She’s usually the affectionate one when we see each other, and is almost never in a bad mood. One of the things I like about her is how upbeat she always is. It’s freaking me out that Cora’s like this, and I hope I’m not going to have to do damage control because I missed our date.
She gives me a strange look. “What happened? Where were you?”
“Didn’t you get my text? I just got caught up with moving, and then Layne was upset, so I felt bad leaving her alone,” I say, taking a seat next to Cora on the couch.
She turns to me, her brown eyes welling with tears. “Why couldn’t Kristen stay with her?”
At the suspicion in her voice, I stiffen, furrowing my brow. “She and Layne’s mom had already left. It just sort of came up as we were finishing moving. What’s this about?” I ask gently. Whatever Cora’s thinking, I don’t want to escalate it by getting upset.
“I just don’t see why you had to cancel our plans to spend more time with Layne. You know this is my one free night this week.”
The coldness in Cora’s voice makes dread settle into my stomach. Trying to keep my voice even, I say, “Look, Layne needed me. If a friend needed you, I’d never get mad at you for canceling our plans to be there for them.”
The truth is, I feel totally blindsided. I don’t get why Cora’s being so weird about this. She’s always saying how important it is that we have our own lives in addition to our life together.
“Are you sure you were just helping a friend tonight, Griff?” she asks, and her voice sounds like it’s about to break. “Or is it more than that?”
Shit. So this is what’s bothering her.
“Are you trying to insinuate that I’m cheating on you with Layne?” I ask in a measured tone. Trying not to get upset, I take a deep breath. I’ve never given Cora a reason to think I’d be unfaithful. I’m not the kind of guy who would do that, and the fact that she’s suggesting I am hurts.
“No, Griffin, I don’t think you’d cheat on me. You’re a good guy,” she says, and the look in her eyes is heartbreaking. “That’s what makes this so hard.”
“Makes what so hard? What are you trying to say?”
Cora lets out a long breath, brushing her dark hair back from her face. “When we were first dating and you’d always talk about Layne, I thought it was cute. I thought you just looked up to her or something, as your sister’s successful best friend. But now I’m not so sure. You’ll drop everything to spend time with her, even for something shitty like helping her move.” She looks into my eyes as a tear runs down her cheek. “I think you’re more into her than you are into me. I’ve thought it for a while. I just didn’t want to admit it.”
Totally dumbstruck, I stare at her. I had no idea she felt this way. I genuinely like being with Cora, but a little niggle in the back of my mind keeps me from denying what she’s saying.
The truth is, I do still have feelings for Layne. I thought I just needed to meet someone else so I could get over her, but I’ve been with Cora for a while and nothing has changed.
Do I still want Layne? Abso-fucking-lutely. But will she give me the time of day? No, I’m sure she wouldn’t. Which is why I moved on because what other choice did I have? But Cora’s still staring at me, and my silence is all the response she needs.
“I’m not mad at you,” she says, looking away. “I don’t think you did any of this on purpose. But you can’t be in a relationship with me when you’re hung up on someone else.”
Frustrated, I blow out a sigh. “I’m sorry,” I tell her, reaching out to hug her good-bye. What else can I say? I feel like a total asshole.
“I just need to be alone right now,” she says quietly.
I nod. My instinct is to try to comfort her, but I know that would only make things worse.
Overwhelmed by the thoughts swirling inside my head, I leave Cora’s key on the kitchen counter and head home. When I woke up this morning, I would have never guessed the day would end with us breaking up. We seemed so solid.
At my place, I collapse onto my couch with a sigh, having to fight the urge to text Layne to talk this through with her. She’s the only one who would know what to say to make me feel better, but she’s the one person I can’t call about this. Layne has made her feelings clear, and she’s not interested in being with me. I don’t particularly feel like being rejected twice in the same night.
Thanks, but no thanks.
9
* * *
LAYNE
One month ago
“Layne, I have Bob from Kincaid Incorporated on the phone. He has some questions about the merger.”
Sabrina’s light and cheery voice snaps me out of my email-answering-induced zombie state, and I instantly sit up straight, my brain struggling to focus. I chug the rest of my now-cold soy latte before pressing the button on the intercom to respond.
“Thanks, Sabrina. Put him through.”
Within moments, my phone rings, and I wait a beat to pick it up. “Hi, Bob. What can I do for you?”
“Hi, Layne. Listen, I have some concerns about this contract you sent over earlier. Are we actually going to give these guys the rights to fifty percent of our sales revenue moving forward? Doesn’t that sound a little generous to you?”
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I understand your concern, but that’s the compromise we came to at our meeting last week. That’s how we got them to agree to keep the name Kincaid on the title moving forward. If you’d like to renegotiate, we’ll have to set up another meeting to get it sorted out.”
“But isn’t there some other way to keep my name without handing over half of our revenue?” His voice tightens, and I can imagine the vein in his forehead throbbing like it always does when he tries to keep himself from yelling. Bob’s been a client for almost five years now, and anger management isn’t exactly his forte. Which is exactly why he has me as an intermediary for this type of thing.
“That’s certainly something we can explore, but again, we’ll need to set up another meeting to discuss it with Saunders & Sons.”
“Those greedy little fuckers . . .” He growls, his sentence trailing off into incoherent grumblings.
I roll my eyes, doing my best to keep my tone professional. “Is there anything else I can do for you today, Bob?”
“Well, if you could find a way to keep those assholes’ hands off my money that would be great.”
“Okay, I’ll have Sabrina call Jillian and set up a meeting. I’m sure we’ll find a solution that makes everyone happy.”
“That’s what you said a week ago, and yet here we are.”
Taking a deep breath, I stand and start to pace, the gears in my brain cranking a mile a minute. “Bob, do you remember where your business was at when we started working together?”
“Well, we’d run into some hard times, sure, but it wasn’t serious, by any means.”
“
No, you were drowning in legal fees. Your last corporate lawyer royally fucked you over, and that’s why I always give you a pass for not trusting me.”
“Come on, Layne. You know I trust you.”
“No, you don’t, and that’s okay. Because I’ll do my job, whether you believe I can or not. With my legal guidance, we turned your sinking business into a well-functioning, profitable enterprise in a matter of months. And this merger is the next step in securing a healthy financial future for your company for years to come. Do you want a healthy financial future for your company or not?”
“Well, of course I do.”
“Good. We’re on the same page then. Now, why don’t you do your job, and let me do mine.”
“Fine. I’ll have Jillian set up a meeting.”
“Great. Talk to you later.” I hang up, yanking my earbud out of my ear and shoving my hands through my hair.
You’d think that after five years of working together, this asshole would get over the fact that I’m a woman and trust me to get shit done for him. But if this job has taught me anything, it’s that the saying “you can’t teach an old dog new tricks” still rings true in certain fields. And let’s just say that Bob is a very old dog.
My office door cracks open and Sabrina pops her head through, gently knocking on the metal frame. I wave her in, aware of the subtle chastisement that’s coming.
“Royally fucked you over? Since when is that the way you talk to clients?” she asks, her voice low and hushed. Her brows are raised so high, they practically disappear behind her thick auburn bangs.
“I needed to speak to him in the kind of language he can understand,” I reply, plopping myself back down into my chair.
She holds up both hands. “You know I’m all for relating to clients on their own terms, but that kind of language is so out of character for you. Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, waving her concern away and turning back to my computer.
I can feel her watching me in disbelief, but I ignore her stare. I don’t have time to examine my behavior at work, and frankly, I think she’s overreacting.
