by Lauren Layne
“So?” Emma asked, as they sat. “Are we ordering celebratory champagne or F them, they don’t know what they’re missing champagne?”
Daisy grinned. “Celebratory.”
“You got it! Congrats, Daiz.”
Just hours earlier, Daisy had gotten the call that the wedding planning company she’d interviewed with a couple weeks earlier was hiring her. It was an assistant position, since Daisy was short on experience.
But it felt right. She’d interviewed with six companies, a combination of wedding planning and general events planning, and this one had felt the best. The women were tight-knit, their brand classy and expensive.
Daisy knew she could do well.
Plus, she was holding out hope that planning other people’s weddings would ease the ache of never planning another of her own. Maybe that was fair. She’d already had her big white wedding. Sure, the marriage hadn’t lasted, but she couldn’t even seem to muster anger or sadness over Gary these days.
Because the love she’d felt for Gary paled in comparison to the love she felt for Lincoln. And the pain she’d felt after Gary hurt a hell of a lot less too.
Some days she thought maybe Lincoln had the right of it by being too chicken to love again. Maybe the risk really wasn’t worth the hurt.
“Okay, let’s get something expensive,” Emma said, looking down at the wine list. “On Cassidy.”
Daisy laughed. “Does he know it’s ‘on Cassidy’? I’m still feeling guilty as crap for leaving him in the lurch by quitting the receptionist thing like that.”
“Please, he told you to,” Emma said, waving it away. “He had some eager young whippersnapper in there by midday Monday.”
Daisy smiled gratefully, although it didn’t ease her guilt. She supposed this was why common wisdom recommended against getting involved with a coworker. She hadn’t even been able to fathom the thought of seeing him at work the next day, but she’d been prepared to suck it up.
Cassidy had worked his control-freak magic and found a replacement so she wouldn’t have to.
That was the benefit of working for one’s brother-in-law.
And besides, it was better this way in the long term. Oxford receptionist was never meant to be a long-term gig. The wedding planning thing, though…she could see that going all the way.
A few minutes later, Daisy and Emma each had a glass of champagne in hand, and Emma lifted hers in a toast. “To my beautiful twin. For being brave and brilliant.”
“You know you just complimented yourself too, right?” Daisy asked as they clinked glasses. “We do share a face.”
“A face yes, but not your bravery.”
“You’re brave,” Daisy protested.
Emma snorted. “I’m not. A guy broke my heart and I ran away to another state. You relocated to his own backyard. Like I said, brilliant.”
“Or stupid,” Daisy muttered as she perused the menu and debated between the avocado club or a crab pasta.
“Nope, brilliant,” Emma insisted. “The man is miserable knowing you’re so close but just out of reach, and it’s torturing him.”
“Hardly. He’s the one that said good-bye, not me. And I haven’t seen him outside my window with a boom box above his head.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “Yeah, because that’s romantic. You always did love that cheesy movie. Which was that? The Breakfast Club?”
Daisy put a hand over her heart. “You wound me. Say Anything. I’m due for a rewatch. You could come.”
Emma made a gagging motion. “Pass.”
“Oh come on. I don’t know how twenty-two-year-old John Cusack didn’t steal your heart in that scene.”
“Um, no. Nothing against the actor, but any guy holding a boom box outside my bedroom at dawn is going to get a swift kick to the balls. And I don’t know how you can possibly find it romantic. You’re the least morning person I know.”
“True,” Daisy said, sipping her champagne. “It’s still romantic, though.”
“Give me Sleepless in Seattle any day.”
Daisy’s nose scrunched. “I never got that one. He runs to the top of the Empire State Building to find his son and she just happens to be there. Where’s the effort?”
Her twin held up her hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. What are you ordering?”
“I wish I could go straight for the chocolate,” Daisy muttered.
Her sister gave her a sympathetic look. “Is it getting any better?”
“The constant ache in my chest? No.”
Emma reached across the table and squeezed her hand. “And you’re sure talking to him wouldn’t help?”
“He ordered me out of his house, Emma. Moments after he contemplated wanting to pass me off as his dog walker.”
“He’s miserable, you know.”
“Well, I don’t want that,” Daisy whispered. “It’s the last thing I want. But if I’ve learned anything from this, it’s that I can’t fix Lincoln. He has to fix himself. All the way fix himself.”
“Will you be waiting for him if and when he does?” Emma asked.
Daisy took a tiny sip of champagne and thought about it. “A big part of me wants to say yes, but I think Lincoln and I are too much alike. We love fiercely, but there’s a downside to that intensity.”
“Which is?”
Daisy met her sister’s gaze. “Lincoln was too scared to take a risk on love after having his heart pulverized by Katie’s death. I think I’m too scared to take a risk on love after having my heart pulverized by Lincoln.”
“You don’t trust him not to do it again,” Emma said.
“Let’s just say my heart will always be his, but it’ll be a long-distance kind of relationship. I’m afraid taking another chance on Lincoln Mathis would destroy me.”
Chapter 33
The day was damp and cold. Perfect.
He didn’t want to be here, and yet he had to be here.
Lincoln stared down at the lavish bouquet of rainbow roses in his hand before very slowly bending at the knees and resting them on the gravestone.
Katie had always loved the classiness of roses, but her preferred color had changed with almost every Valentine’s Day and anniversary. Red one year, pink the next, yellow the year after that. Today he’d gotten her a little bit of everything.
“Hey Katie,” he said, dropping his head down and staring at his hands clasped between his legs as he crouched in front of his dead fiancée’s grave.
Her body’d been cremated, but her family had decided after the fact that they wanted a place to come visit her. Truth be told, he hadn’t been thrilled about the idea. Katie would have wanted to be free.
But she was free.
This place, this stone was for those she left behind. A place to talk to her when they needed to.
And today, he needed to.
It had taken him a while to figure it out, but it had hit him yesterday. Everyone kept insisting that in order to heal, he’d need to talk to someone, but it had never felt quite right.
And then he’d realized.
The real person he needed to talk to wasn’t a friend, or a therapist, or even Daisy.
He needed to talk to Katie. Not just think about her, as he had in Costa Rica.
Talk to her.
“I wonder where you are right now,” he said, looking up at the name carved into the stone, at the too-short life span. “But wherever it is, I hope it’s happy and beautiful and has lots of the string cheese you used to eat by the dozen.”
He plucked a blade of grass. “I talked to your mom. She said she and your dad came here a couple days ago. I thought about coming with them, but we decided that maybe it was best if I didn’t see them for a while. Let the wound of missing you heal a little bit.”
Lincoln fell silent for several moments. Brenda Lyons had dodged his call for days after she’d seen Daisy at his place. He’d thought about driving out there but didn’t know that he’d be welcome. Didn’t even know what he’d say.
Yesterday she’d surprised him by calling. Surprised him even more by apologizing.
You’re doing nothing wrong, Lincoln, by finding a nice girl. I hope you know that. Katie would have wanted you to love again. I hope you know that too.
He’d appreciated the words—they’d done a fair amount to ease the guilt as it pertained to the Lyonses.
But they’d done absolutely nothing to assuage the pain when he thought about the way he’d treated Daisy.
He’d been in limbo for days, refusing to talk to Cassidy, to Emma, Cole, his parents, anyone.
And after speaking with Brenda yesterday, he knew why. Knew whom he needed to talk to.
“I want to talk to you about something,” he said again to the headstone, before lifting his eyes and looking at the sky, in case she was looking down. “It’s a little weird, maybe a little inappropriate, but you used to be my best friend, and I need my best friend now, Katie.”
Lightning didn’t strike him down, and he took it as a good sign.
“I think I fell in love, Katie. Not while you were still here. I was loyal to you every single minute, loving you, I would have been every moment you were still breathing. Just because we were a few days away from actually saying the words till death do us part didn’t mean I didn’t honor them. But, see, the thing is, death did us part. And that hurt like hell, and I died inside right along with you, but then I came back. Someone brought me back.
“I know you only met her briefly, but…well, you’d like her. She’s funny and kind, but she’s also just good. She’s been hurt too, but she didn’t let it change her. Not for long anyway, and that makes her brave. More brave, I think, than I’ve been. Which is I guess the real reason I’m here, Katie. I want to be brave. I want to be brave enough to deserve her and get her back.”
Lincoln stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets, getting right to the heart of it. “I’m here to say good-bye to you, Katie. I thought I did that in Costa Rica, but that was really just accepting that you were gone. But now it’s time for me to accept that I’m not gone. I’m still here, and I’ve realized I’d rather risk being hurt again than live alone. I have to be without you, Katie, but I don’t have to be without Daisy. And I just…I guess I wanted you to hear it from me. I’m not going to be around for a little while. I may not visit.”
Lincoln blinked back the moisture gathering in his eyes. Touched a hand to his heart. “But you’ll always be here, ’kay? Always.”
He stood there for long minutes after he’d finished talking, wishing she’d say something. Give her blessing, even as he knew she couldn’t.
But then he swore he heard her give a familiar sigh of exasperation. A sound he hadn’t heard in years, but he heard it now. The sound she made when she thought he was being an idiot.
Then he heard her. He heard Katie’s voice coming somewhere from deep inside him, loud and clear.
Lincoln, I love you too. But what the hell are you still doing here? Go get her.
He grinned. Kissed two fingers then placed them on the headstone before turning and walking back to his car, feeling lighter than he had in years.
Lincoln shoved the key in the ignition to make the drive back to New York, but at the last minute, he turned the car off and pulled out his cell phone.
He’d gotten Katie’s blessing.
Now it was time to bring in the cavalry.
Chapter 34
“Can someone please tell me why I have, like, ten people in my conference room on a Friday afternoon, only a handful of whom actually work for me?” Cassidy asked in exasperation.
“Shut it,” Lincoln said, scanning the room and doing a mental tally. “Julie, where’s Mitchell?”
The pretty blonde froze in the process of taking a bite of one of the sandwiches he’d had brought in to keep their strength up and have them at full mental working power. “Um, work?”
“Get him in here.”
Julie blinked. “Really?”
“Don’t fight it,” Mollie said, picking up a ham sandwich and taking a handful of chips. “I didn’t answer my cell at work, and he called the receptionist at my lab. Four times.”
“Damn straight. Only Sam gets a free pass,” Lincoln said. “Because he works out in the bowels of Brooklyn and I can’t wait that long.”
“Actually, he’s in Manhattan today doing a tasting,” Riley said around a mouthful of roast beef. She froze when Lincoln fixed her with a glare.
“And,” Riley said, swallowing and pulling out her phone, “I was just about to call him!”
“Good. Tell him to make it fast.”
“I’ve never seen him like this,” Grace whispered to Jake.
Lincoln barely absorbed any of this. He was too busy pacing around the room, waiting for the remainder of the crew to get here and figure out how to undo the absolute fuckery he’d made of his relationship with Daisy.
He’d taken the best thing in his life and run away from it. He’d had a damn good woman who was perfect for him, and he’d had his head so far up his ass, his heart so lodged in the past, that he’d lost her.
He’d thought about calling her. Texting her. Going by her apartment. Daisy was one of the most decent, rational people he knew. It had occurred to him that maybe I’m sorry would be enough, and they could go back to how they’d been.
But he didn’t want to go back.
He wanted more. He wanted everything from her.
And for that, he needed to pull out the stops.
Lincoln not-so-gently smacked the back of Cole’s head as he paced. “Focus, man. You’re supposed to be helping me get my woman, not making out with yours.”
“It was one little kiss,” Penelope protested.
Lincoln pointed a finger at her. “Pope, you know you’re my favorite, but I need your head in the game.”
Penelope cracked her knuckles, the way he’d known she would at any sports reference. “You got it. What’s the play?”
Jackson and Cole, the other two sports nerds, leaned forward, ready for action, as everyone else rolled their eyes.
“I’ll be right back,” Cassidy muttered, pushing away from where he’d been leaning against the wall, whispering with Emma.
“Hell no,” Lincoln said. “Where are you going?”
Cassidy shoved him out of the way and exited the conference room. “Trust me on this,” he called over his shoulder.
Lincoln ground his teeth and fixed his frustration on Julie and Riley. “Where are we with Mitchell and Sam?”
“Mitchell’s on his way,” Julie said soothingly as she placed a piece of sandwich on a paper plate and held it out to him. “Eat this sandwich, you’re acting hangry, sweetie.”
Lincoln resisted the urge to bat the plate out of her hand like a child, and instead glared.
Riley shrugged and picked up the rejected sandwich. “Is now a good time to tell you that Sam can’t make it?” she asked, taking a huge bite.
“Jesus, Ri, are you pregnant again?” Emma asked. “You’re eating a lot, even for you.”
Riley licked mayo off her thumb. “Sadly, no. Lady time is roaring loud and clear.”
“No,” Jackson said, as he dropped his own sandwich back on his plate in disgust. “Just no. There are rules for these sorts of things, Riley. No talking about your lady time while people are eating.”
“Or,” Jake said, raising his soda, “how about not talking about it ever?”
Cole clinked his Coke can against Jake’s. “Here here.”
“What do you mean, Sam’s not coming?” Lincoln asked, ignoring the banter that was normally right up his alley.
Riley sighed. “He’s in a whiskey tasting. He didn’t know.”
“Fine,” Lincoln grumbled. “But I need…”
“Bourbon?” Cassidy said, coming back into the conference room armed with a bottle of Blanton’s and a stack of plastic cups.
“God, yes,” everyone said, almost in unison.
“Who knew that Lincoln had this scary dictator si
de?” someone muttered.
Lincoln rolled his eyes at the melodrama and waited with what he thought was admirable patience as everyone got their pour of bourbon.
He shook his head when Cole handed him a glass, but his friend wasn’t deterred. “Are we here for the reason I think we are?” Cole asked.
Lincoln’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think?”
“You fucked up with Daisy. Want us to unfuck it?”
Lincoln gave a curt nod, and Cole pushed the cup at him again. “Take this. Trust me.”
“Yes, trust him. Cole wooed me back in rather impressive fashion,” Penelope said, staring adoringly at Cole.
“Only because I helped,” Cassidy muttered as he poured himself some of the bourbon.
“None of you have anything on me,” Jake said. “I got my woman back at a baseball game in front of an entire stadium.”
“Yeah, I’m taking credit for that one,” Cole said. “I was ready to put my tongue in Grace’s mouth so she wouldn’t be humiliated by your idiot cowardice.”
“For what it’s worth,” Mitchell Forbes said from the doorway of the conference room, impeccably dressed as ever in his pinstripes and wire-frame glasses, “I got Julie back all on my own.”
“Um, only after you had me on my knees on the ground, crying,” Julie said, even as she gave him a loving, indulgent look.
Mitchell lifted a shoulder. “Made the whole finale more dramatic.”
“Yes,” Lincoln said, going to Mitchell and clamping the other man on the shoulder. “This is what I’m talking about. I need drama, people. Fireworks.”
“What about literal fireworks?” Jackson asked. “That could be catchy.”
Everyone stared at him, then Mollie. “Good God, Molls, however did he land you?” Riley asked in awe.
Mollie picked up Jackson’s beat-up quarterback hand and kissed the knuckles. “It was very sweet. And very private. And involved a closet.”
“Yeah, no,” Lincoln said. “Pass on the closet and the fireworks. What else do you guys have?”
“Wait, really?” Mitchell asked. “This is why I busted my ass to get up here during rush hour on a Friday? To help you get Daisy back?”
In response, Cassidy poured him a liberal glass of bourbon, which Mitchell accepted with a shake of his head. “Okay, fine. What’s the story?”
