Page 22 of Love, Lies and Mistletoe
She couldn’t keep the smile from her face, even as she sipped her coffee again. “And I’m happy to be here.”
After she left Sheila’s,Layla turned her phone back on to message Kyle.
What’s up? she texted.
A few seconds later her phone rang.
“You’re hard to get a hold of,” Kyle said right away.
“I had an appointment with a client.”
There was a pause on the other end. Then, “Oh. That’s right. I forgot you’re a designer too.”
She’d only spent a good portion of their lunch together talking about some of her favorite design jobs. Was he not paying attention?
“No worries. What’s up?” she asked again.
“How do you feel about snowshoeing on Sunday?”
She let out a little snort. “I’ve never been.”
“You can’t live in Minnesota and not try it. Are you game?”
Layla could name a dozen things off the top of her head she’d rather try but, yes, she was game. Shying away from a challenge was so not her.
“As much as I’ll ever be. What do I need to bring?”
“Just yourself. I have all the equipment.” He sounded super pleased.
“And you’ll promise me you won’t laugh?”
“Never,” he said.
She laughed. “I’m trusting you. Sunday it is then.”
Chapter Eleven
Brant flipped on his turn signal at the last minute and cut across two lanes of traffic after crossing the bridge. Someone laid on their horn, and while he looked in his rearview mirror at the driver he cut off, he almost rear-ended someone. The exit at Hardman Avenue was backed up with early morning commuters. Coffee sloshed out of the opening of his Hydro Flask and onto his pants. If he didn’t get into an accident by the time he made it to work, he’d surely get a ticket for breaking any number of laws.
His problem in one word—Layla.
She wiggled into his brain and messed with his ability to think of anything else during the entire ride back to St. Paul the other day. And it continued even into today. Despite the dreadful way he’d met her last year, and her obvious resentment, he felt a spark at the inn. He was pretty sure she felt it too. But Layla didn’t trust him. That was the crux of the issue. And he didn’t blame her, now that she’d spelled it out for him. It hadn’t only been a mistaken kiss. It was the humiliation he’d made her feel afterward.
As he replayed in his mind the conversation they’d had in her store the other day, Brant pulled into his parking space outside Light the Night, LLC. Joan’s car was here, but also another one he didn’t recognize.
Inside, he headed to the small office in the rear of the building. His footsteps on the concrete floor echoed in the cavernous space. Voices drifted toward him. Through the office window, Joan, his landlord Barry, and another woman he didn’t recognize talked. They paused when they heard him approach.
He extended his hand to the stranger. “Brant Johnsson. You are?”
“Victoria Williams. Manager of the Office of Health and Safety for the city.”
Barry looked down at his feet when Brant glanced at him. Joan gave him one of her loaded looks. He paused, waiting for someone to speak up. When the silence stretched on, he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling. “Well, since no one is going to tell me what this is about, I’ll ask. What’s this about?”
Victoria rocked back on her heels and cleared her throat. “There’s a problem.”
Barry finally looked up and his eyes bugged out. “I’ll say.”
That no one wanted to tell him the situation alarmed him even more.
