" A dark-haired man whose name Jackson couldn’t remember spoke up. “Shit, no way, Sharpe. Is that his name? I had no idea. I mean, it’s not like we’ve been having staff meetings with him for weeks or anything. I’m pretty sure we all know each other’s names.”

There was a moment of awkward silence as Jackson stared at the man who was not Cole, not Lincoln, whose name was…

Fuck. He had no idea. "

― Lauren Layne , I Wish You Were Mine (Oxford, #2)