Someone Like You

by Lauren Layne

  Damn. Caught.

  “Sorry,” Lincoln said with what he hoped was a genuine-ish smile.

  “No worries,” Nick said, sliding a couple pens and a file folder into his laptop bag. “It’s a great job. You’re right to want it back.”

  “You did good stuff,” Lincoln said as he approached the desk and dropped his bag into the guest chair while he waited for Nick to finish clearing out.

  Nick’s smile flashed wider this time. Real. “I know.”

  Lincoln laughed at the other man’s confidence. “You thinking of asking Cassidy for a full-time gig?”

  “Nah. It’s a good place, good people, but I get restless easy. Freelance suits me, and when things get slow, I supplement by bartending. Come by Founders Hotel sometime. I work at the bar there—drinks on me.”

  “Sure, thanks,” Lincoln said, shaking Nick’s hand as the other man came around the desk. “And thanks for holding down the fort.”

  Nick nodded once before lifting his hand in farewell and walking out the door. A man of few words, then. That worked just fine for Lincoln, who relished the idea of getting back to work.

  Strictly speaking, he wasn’t much of a morning person, but he’d purposely gotten here an hour before everyone else would start trickling in. He needed a few minutes to reorient.

  He lowered himself to his swivel chair, surprised and a little relieved to see that everything was exactly as he’d left it. Ballantine hadn’t been lying about not pissing on Lincoln’s turf.

  He pulled his laptop out of his bag, clicked it into the docking station before turning it on.

  Coffee, he realized. He should have gotten coffee on his way in. There was a big old pot in the break room, but this early, nobody would have started it. Guess it’d have to be him.

  He pushed back, intending to head to the kitchen, but turning right at the last minute. Maybe he’d see if Cassidy was in. A notorious workaholic, the man seemed to relish being in before everyone else, leaving after everyone else too. Lincoln wondered if married life had changed him.

  The office was dead quiet this early, so Lincoln could hear the quiet conversation coming through Cassidy’s open door before he even got close.

  His footsteps slowed and then stopped altogether as the female voice slammed into him. He’d know the low whiskey-rasp anywhere.

  Daisy.

  It was Daisy’s voice.

  Before he could think better of it, his footsteps had quickened until he was all but dashing into his boss’s office door. He didn’t know what she was doing here, didn’t know what he’d do when he saw her, but he had to see her. Had to tell her—

  Lincoln skidded to a halt in the open doorway, as his pounding heart slowed to a disappointed thud.

  Cassidy and Emma turned to him in surprise.

  Emma.

  God damn it. Of course it was Emma’s voice he’d heard, not Daisy’s. Of course it would be the twin who was married to his boss who’d be in his office, not the twin who was in North Carolina probably resenting the hell out of him.

  He’d never been quite so disappointed to see his friend.

  But then Emma was smiling, moving toward him and throwing her arms around his neck in such a warm—and unexpected, given Emma’s usual reserve—welcome that he couldn’t help but smile, even though she wasn’t quite the twin he’d hoped to see.

  “You’re back,” she said, pulling back and beaming up at him, hands on his shoulder.

  “Looks like,” he said.

  “Mathis, mind getting your hands off my wife,” Cassidy said. But he too was smiling. Lincoln extended a hand to him, but Cassidy shocked him even more than Emma had by using the hand to pull Lincoln in for a one-armed hug. “Damn good to see you, man.”

  “Sorry about the longer-than-expected absence.”

  Cassidy waved it away and went around to his usual throne behind his desk. “Don’t. Come. Sit. Talk.”

  Lincoln and Emma exchanged a look at his bossiness. “He’s a control freak, Em. I don’t know how you do it.”

  “Easy. I ignore the commands in all places except the bedroom, and there I give as good as I get.”

  Lincoln winced. “Really?”

  She laughed and patted his cheek. “Sorry. It’s good to have you back. I’ll leave you boys to talk.”

  Emma was almost out the door when Lincoln called her back.

  She turned. “What’s up?”

  Shit. Fuck. Was he going to do this? Hell yeah he was.

  “How’s your sister?” he asked.

  Her eyebrows lifted. “She’s good. Quite good, actually.”

  His chest tightened, and he hoped that Daisy being “quite good” wasn’t due to a change in her romantic status.

  “You haven’t talked to her?” Emma asked.

  He swallowed. “No. Haven’t been in touch since I left.”

  “Since you ran away, you mean,” Emma corrected.

  “Emma,” Cassidy said in a warning tone.

  “No, it’s all right,” Lincoln said to Cassidy, his eyes never leaving Emma’s candid stare. “I did run away.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “Yes and no,” he said slowly.

  “Explain.”

  “An explanation is due, but respectfully, not to you.”

  She pursed her lips. “Damn. Good answer.”

  “I know,” he said with a grin. Then he gathered his courage and asked the question. “If I were to tell you I was planning a trip down to North Carolina, what would you say?”

  She blinked in surprise, her eyes flicking to Cassidy before her gaze came back to Lincoln. “I’d tell you you were wasting your time.”

  Lincoln’s heart sank as Emma turned on her heel and walked out of Cassidy’s office. It was what he expected, but he’d foolishly held on to a sliver of hope that Daisy had been as hung up on that last night together as he had.

  “Sit down,” Cassidy said quietly.

  Lincoln searched for a sarcastic quip but came up empty, and did as he was told for once. “I met Ballantine.”

  Cassidy nodded.

  “He’s not sticking around?”

  Cassidy shrugged. “He said to call him if we needed a freelancer. I probably will. I like him. Sharp, solid writing, organized. Like you.”

  “And he was here,” Lincoln said quietly. “When I wasn’t.”

  “Don’t forget whose idea that was.”

  “For two weeks, yeah. I stretched that into a month and a half, used up all my vacation time.”

  “We got by,” Cassidy said, sitting back in his chair. “Was it worth it?”

  Lincoln blew out a breath. “Yeah, you know? It damn well was.”

  “You saw your folks?”

  “For the first week, yes. I hadn’t seen them since they flew up for the funeral, and my mom felt the need to fuss, serve me her usual bland chicken dishes. Dad dragged me golfing, lectured me on the circle of life, that sort of thing.”

  “And you flew from Florida to Costa Rica.”

  Cassidy said it casually, as though simply reciting the information Lincoln had conveyed in his email, but Lincoln heard the underlying question.

  “I did, yes. A few weeks there.” Lincoln exhaled. “I went on my honeymoon.”

  Cassidy’s only reaction was a too-long blink. “Your honeymoon.”

  “What would have been my honeymoon, years ago. Stayed at the same resort I booked for me and Katie. I sat by the pool, did touristy shit, drank sugary resort drinks—”

  “Which you know you loved.”

  Lincoln laughed. “I did.”

  “What inspired the last-minute vacation?”

  “It just sort of hit me,” Lincoln said. “Everybody has different ideas on the best way to get closure, and I realized that’s because everybody gets closure in different ways. For me, it was this. Forcing myself to face what I could have had and what I didn’t have sort of wrenched me out of limbo. Made me accept that she was gone, and had been gone for a long time. I als
o did it for her. Costa Rica was her thing. Her dream. I hate like hell that she didn’t see it for herself, so I saw it for her.”

  “You said good-bye.”

  Just a few weeks ago, Lincoln would have inwardly flinched at the word. Good-bye was so final. He wasn’t ready.

  Now, however…

  Going on his honeymoon solo had forced Lincoln to be alone with his thoughts. His pain. To deal with it in a way he couldn’t when he was surrounded by people, where there were ready distractions from the hurt.

  Over the two weeks in Costa Rica though, he’d let himself be present in the agony. Let himself mourn the fact that Katie wasn’t on the chaise lounge beside him at the pool. That she wasn’t beside him in the large bed. That she wasn’t able to relish the greenery and the local food and the relaxation.

  He’d let himself acknowledge what had happened.

  He’d loved a woman.

  He’d lost that woman.

  And yet, he hadn’t let her go. Now, he had.

  At least he thought so. He was getting there. All he knew was that the pain wasn’t quite so crushing as it had been just a couple months ago.

  “Yeah,” Lincoln said, clearing his throat. “I said good-bye.”

  “I’m glad,” Cassidy said, leaning forward again. “You need anything from me to get back to work?”

  Lincoln laughed. “Just like that, huh?”

  Cassidy grinned. “Just like that.”

  “I need coffee. And since you dragged me in here, I’m betting someone else will have made it by now, so…”

  Cassidy nodded toward the door. “Go. We’ll catch up later. And Lincoln—”

  Lincoln turned.

  Cassidy looked uncharacteristically indecisive, but then shook his head. “Never mind. See you around.”

  Lincoln was halfway to the kitchen when he had déjà vu. Her voice. Daisy’s voice.

  He paused, then shook his head, annoyed at himself. This is what he got for falling for the twin of a woman who worked in the same damn building as him, and was married to his friggin’ boss.

  Their voices weren’t even an exact match. Emma’s was more clipped, Daisy’s slower, drawn out. He’d just have to focus on the differences until he could hear Emma’s voice without thinking of her.

  He continued toward the kitchen. It was still mostly quiet in the office, so Emma’s voice coming from the front reception desk reached his ears all too easily.

  It’s just Emma, damn it.

  He stopped. Except it didn’t sound like Emma. Since when had Emma laughed like that, all soft and flirty? When had she ever drawn out her vowels like that?

  He slowly reversed his footsteps and made his way to the front desk. Either he was losing his mind, somehow translating Emma’s voice into Daisy’s, or Emma was impersonating Daisy, but why? Just to torture him?

  Lincoln skidded to a halt as his eyes registered the scene in front of him.

  Or maybe there was a third option.

  Maybe it wasn’t Emma at all.

  Maybe Daisy Sinclair—his Daisy—was sitting at the Oxford reception desk, laughing up at a very interested-looking Nick Ballantine.

  Chapter 25

  Daisy had played this moment in her head about a million different ways. She’d even sweet-talked a reluctant Cassidy into pretending to be Lincoln so she could practice Emma’s direction of “be cool.”

  But when she turned and met Lincoln’s blue eyes, there was no restraint, only instinct.

  She slowly pushed back her chair, stood, walked to him, and threw her arms around his neck.

  “Daisy?”

  The word was both question and plea, and she closed her eyes and nodded as his arms very slowly came around her.

  “Daisy.” This time it was a whisper against her neck, and she felt her eyes water. So much for Emma’s instructions to play it cool.

  She wanted the moment to last forever, but there was a throat-clearing from behind them. She turned, and saw a confused Nick watching them, forearms resting on the high reception desk.

  “Oh! Lincoln, this is Nick. He’s the guy who—”

  “We’ve met,” Lincoln said, his voice just a touch unfriendly. Daisy frowned at him.

  Nick grinned at Lincoln. “I didn’t pee on your desk, Mathis, but you should know I’m about to pee on this one.”

  Daisy scrunched her nose in puzzlement at the gross statement. “Wait, what?”

  Nick didn’t respond, because he was too busy glaring at the dazzling brunette who approached the desk.

  “Lincoln,” Taylor Carr said as she sauntered over to them. “Welcome back. I see you already know our receptionist.”

  Lincoln’s gaze snapped back to Daisy. “Sorry, what?”

  “Temporary receptionist,” Daisy said.

  “Where the hell is Jo?” Lincoln asked, referring to Oxford’s usual receptionist.

  “Bed rest,” Daisy explained. “Minor pregnancy complication. Everything’s okay, but the doctor’s playing it safe. It was unexpected though, so they needed someone in a hurry.”

  “Uh-huh,” he said, staring at her. “And the only one they could find was in Charlotte, North Carolina?”

  Taylor wound an arm around Daisy’s waist. “Well, our girl had already relocated by that point.”

  Lincoln’s gaze snapped to the troublemaking Taylor, and then back to Daisy. “Wait. You live here?”

  “She does,” Taylor said. “And I promptly made her my new best friend, mostly for the purpose of telling her how to ward off the affections of Bastard Ballantine here.”

  “Not sure how you’d have any experience with that,” Nick said in a lazy tone from behind them. “Seeing as you’ve never been the object of them.”

  Daisy pulled Taylor’s arm from around her waist and gently shoved her away. “Perhaps you and Nick could take your cat and dog routine elsewhere, hmm?”

  “Which is Taylor?” Nick asked. “The pussy or the bitch?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?” Taylor said, her voice coming out in a purr that implied she associated more with the feline variety.

  Daisy lifted her fingers to her temples. “I wish someone would have warned me that this job came with babysitting duties.”

  Taylor blew both her and Lincoln a kiss before shooting Nick the bird. “Daisy, we still on for lunch later?”

  “Definitely,” Daisy said with a smile, even as she was acutely aware of Lincoln trying to sort all of this out. Perhaps the surprise factor wasn’t the best approach. He seemed…pissed.

  “And what about dinner later?” Nick asked. “Are we on for that?”

  Crap. Crap crap crap.

  She liked Nick Ballantine. A lot. What had started as grabbing coffee a couple times a week had turned into the occasional lunch, then a drink after work. And now dinner was on the table.

  Daisy knew Nick was interested in her, and heck, she was pretty sure she was on the verge of being interested back, but it was darn hard to think about another man when Lincoln was right here in the flesh.

  Then again, she hadn’t heard from Lincoln in more than a month. Not once had he contacted her since leaving her a half-assed note and running away in the middle of the night.

  She was right to move on with someone else. And Nick was nice. He liked her.

  Daisy understood why Lincoln behaved the way he did, she really did. But as Emma had pointed out a dozen times over the past month, it was time Daisy looked out for Daisy. She wanted to move forward—had realized that she’d been using her experience with Gary as a shield more than anything else.

  If her time with Lincoln had taught her anything, it was that she didn’t want to be alone after all. She was ready to love again—risk again.

  And yes, she’d hoped that person would be Lincoln.

  But he’d walked away. Not only that, he’d all but sworn up and down that he’d never be what she was looking for.

  Maybe Nick was.

  Nick Ballantine was steady. He wouldn’t disappear ev
ery time things got complicated. And she liked his lack of conventionalism. Liked that he was at home in a suit and high-rise as he was stirring martinis behind a bar.

  “Yes, Nicholas,” Taylor said in a speculative tone. “Of course, Daisy will go to dinner with you.”

  “Hold up,” Lincoln said before Daisy could interject. “I thought you just said you were warning her off Ballantine’s affections.”

  “Sure,” Taylor said with a slow smile. “But that’s before I saw all of this.” She waggled her finger in the vicinity of Daisy and Lincoln. “And this’ll be way more fun.”

  “You are such a bitch,” Nick muttered.

  She ignored him, giving Daisy and Lincoln a little finger wave as she sauntered off.

  “Text you later, Daisy?” Nick asked.

  “Yeah, of course,” she said with a smile, even as she was acutely aware of Lincoln watching her.

  Nick lightly slapped his palm twice against the desk before nodding and pushing upright. Daisy was pretty sure he and Lincoln locked eyes over her head, but Nick turned and ambled out the front door before she could get a read on the situation.

  She turned back to Lincoln, who was looking a lot less shell-shocked and a lot more pissed.

  “Want to fill me in on what’s going on?”

  She opened her mouth, only to be interrupted by the ringing of the main desk line. “Damn,” she muttered. “Starting early today, I see.”

  Daisy went back to the desk. “Oxford magazine, this is Daisy…Sure, I’ll transfer you.”

  If she’d learned anything in her couple weeks on the job, it was that calls came in batches, and it was three more calls before she could direct her attention back to Lincoln.

  “You’re good at that,” he said, nodding at the complicated phone system.

  She shrugged. “It took me a couple days, but—”

  “What are you doing here, Daisy?”

  “At Oxford, or in New York?” she asked, stalling.

  “Both. Either.”

  She gently rested all ten fingertips against the desk, spread her fingers wide, before tapping softly as she thought of how to answer. She wanted to be honest, obviously, but too honest would leave her vulnerable.

  “I realized I needed a change,” she said. “I love Charlotte, but I was stuck in limbo there. No friends outside of Whitney, no job, no prospects. The way you and Emma talk about New York, it just seemed like the place to be if you want to start fresh.”