The Trouble With Love(20)

The pretty brunette all but sagged in relief. “You’re awesome. Seriously.”

Emma retrieved her phone from the counter and scrolled through her received calls until she found where Benedict had called her to confirm their date.

She gave Danielle the number, and felt a little flicker of alarm that she didn’t feel the least bit weird in doing so. The flicker escalated to a flame as she realized that she was happy.

Happy that Cassidy and Danielle had broken up.

Uh-oh.

She knew her friends and sister thought she was emotionally closed off. Emma herself sometimes worried that she was partially dead inside.

Well, she definitely wasn’t dead inside now.

“Sorry I interrupted your evening,” Danielle said as she pulled her purse higher onto her shoulder and stepped into the hallway, having gotten what she came for.

“No problem,” Emma said, swallowing her panic and the flurry of emotions rolling through her. “Kept the night from being boring.”

Danielle glanced briefly at Cassidy’s door, her expression not so much sad as thoughtful. “You know the weirdest part of all this? I don’t even think Alex will mind. When I suggested that he and I end things, he was just…”

Danielle ran a palm down over the front of her face as though to indicate expressionlessness. “Nothing. Straight-faced, no reaction beyond a polite smile and a good-bye hug. It was like I was his sister, or something.”

“I’m sure he cared,” Emma said kindly. But even as she said it, she knew she was probably lying. Like Emma, Cassidy wasn’t cruel—he never meant to toy with anyone’s emotions, or lead women on. But, like Emma, he held himself back. From everyone.

Danielle shrugged. “Maybe. Okay, I’ll get out of your hair now. Thanks again for not throwing me out.”

Emma waved good-bye, and was about to shut the door when her gaze landed on Cassidy’s front door. How perfectly fitting that he got dumped on the same day he’d antagonized her by mentioning her exes.

Thank you, karma.

And then, because Emma apparently didn’t have any sense whatsoever, she listened to an urge she hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

She walked forward and knocked on the door of her ex-fiancé.





Chapter 9


Alex’s best guess as to who could be knocking on his door was Danielle.

Not that he thought she’d changed her mind. But the woman had forgotten her umbrella. Again.

But it wasn’t Danielle.

“Emma.”

For several seconds after he opened the door, they merely stared at each other. She was wearing gray pants and a white blouse unbuttoned just enough to hint at subtle cleavage. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders.

And her eyes? Unreadable as ever.

“You owe me a meeting,” she said finally.

“Do I?”

“Yes,” she said, sweeping past him and entering his apartment as though she owned the place. “I talked to Julie and she said that you had in-person discussions with the rest of the columnists about their December stories. I didn’t get the in-person part, or the discussion. A mandated story topic via email? Really?”

“Gosh, I can’t imagine why I wouldn’t have jumped at the chance to have this friendly chat in person,” he muttered as he shut the door.

Emma moved into the main living room area and looked around. The layout of his apartment was almost identical to Camille’s, but that’s where the similarities ended. Camille preferred fancy, fussy furniture and a billion pillows and pictures and lamps.

Alex was well aware that his own taste was classic minimalist bachelor. A sleek black sofa, basic coffee table, a bar-height dining table for two. He kept the lighting low. Liked the way it accentuated the city lights.

Emma ran a finger over the dark wood of his sideboard as she stepped all the way into the room. “Very…you.”

“You know what I like about you, Emma? How you can manage to put so much insult into just two words.”

She turned to face him, her only response a wink.

“Drink?” he asked.

“Yes, please. I had just poured myself a glass when I got derailed by a visitor.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulled the cork off a bottle of open red on the counter and reached for two glasses.

“Yep.”

Her voice never lost its perfectly civil edge. Neither did his.

But when she announced that it was Danielle who had stopped by, Alex might have faltered while pouring the wine. Just for a half second.

“My girlfriend came to see you,” he said, handing her the glass.

“Ex-girlfriend from the way I heard it,” Emma said, lifting her eyebrows as she took a sip of wine.

He took a sip of his own wine and watched her. “So that’s the real reason you’re here. Rub salt in the wound?”

“Honestly?” she swirled her glass and watched the wine. “Yes. I had a…shall we say a bit of pique about the way you forced a story on me via email. Thought this seemed like a good chance to get back at you.”

“Yeah, you’re really the picture of a woman bent on vengeance,” he said, taking in the haughty tilt of her chin and the coolness in her eyes.

Emma shrugged. “The revenge urged passed. Being petty wasn’t worth the effort.”