The Trouble with Love (Sex, Love & Stiletto, #4)(8)

Emma frowned. “But—”

“I’ll rephrase. The writing is fine. Excellent. You’re one of my best. But the topics are…they’re good, but they’re going to get stale if you don’t change it up.”

Emma had the sudden urge to cross her arms and pout. Pouting had always worked so well for her sister over the years. Too bad Emma had never perfected it.

“Change it up how?” Emma asked.

Camille picked up her cellphone. “Well, my college roommate’s nephew just moved to New York from San Francisco—”

Emma closed her eyes and groaned. “No.”

“No, you can’t say no,” Camille said as she scrolled through her photos. “Just look.”

She held the phone across the desk until Emma relented and looked at…an absolutely gorgeous guy.

“Right?” Camille said smugly. “His name is Benedict Wade, and he’s a VP of sales for some…actually, don’t remember, don’t care. I only see the dimples. But he’s one of the good ones, Emma.”

“Then why is he still single?” Emma asked, taking a closer look in spite of herself. The dimples really were first-rate. As was the slight wave to his dark blond hair, the even row of white teeth, and the tiniest bit of crookedness to his nose, as though it had been broken once or twice.

Camille heaved a sigh. “See? You’re cynical. But because I, too, have been cynical, I’ll be patient with you. Benedict’s only recently single. He broke up with his girlfriend a couple months ago when she got a job offer in London just as he got one in New York, and he realized they were moving in different directions.”

“Not really,” Emma mused. “If they both lived in California, and he moved to New York and she to London, they moved the same direction. East.”

Camille’s eyes narrowed. “You’re doing that on purpose. Trying to throw me off the scent. Cassidy warned me you’d do that.”

Emma froze. “You talked to Alex Cassidy about this? About me?”

“Well, of course. Who better to know your type than your ex-fiancé?”

Emma threw up her hands in exasperation. “Does everyone know about that?”

Camille shrugged. “Pretty much.”

Emma gritted her teeth, just for a moment, at the thought of her private life being not so private. If it were up to Emma, the unpleasant past she shared with Cassidy would have gone to the grave with them, and she was pretty sure he felt the same. Without ever having talked about it, she knew that was part of the reason they both played the cold war game, frosting each other out whenever possible. It kept both of them from losing their temper and saying something they shouldn’t.

But then Emma had gone and let him get under her skin at a baseball game, of all places. Julie’s fiancé had overheard them, and though Mitchell Forbes wasn’t prone to gossip, he’d mentioned it to Julie, and Julie…well, God bless her, she’d apparently gone and told the entire world.

Emma didn’t really blame everyone for being interested. She knew that a failed engagement was juicy gossip. A failed engagement between a relationships columnist and a hotshot editor in chief was even more intriguing.

Still, just because Emma understood the interest in her personal life didn’t mean she had to like it.

A grumble snuck out before she could stop it. “What happened to the genteel world where people didn’t talk to other people about their exes? Isn’t that off-limits in polite society?”

“You’re so cute when you go all Magnolia Manners,” Camille said gleefully. “Was that a little drawl I heard creeping into your voice?”

Emma pressed her lips together. She’d worked long and hard to banish the soft North Carolina lilt from her speech. She wanted no trace of the na?ve girl she’d been back then to show.

Emma tried again. “I’m just saying—”

Camille gave another of those dismissive waves of her hand. “I know what you’re just sayin’. And don’t worry, I don’t usually go around throwing previous relationships in people’s faces. But you and Cassidy have always seemed so at peace with your past.” She paused. “Aren’t you?”

“Definitely,” Emma said. Firmly.

“So then,” Camille said with a shrug, “I figured there’d be no harm in getting his opinion on whether or not you and Benedict might hit it off.”

Emma remained silent, and Camille gave her a knowing look. “You want to know what Cassidy said, don’t you?”

Emma pursed her lips and made a deliberately indifferent face. “Not really.”

Camille leaned forward. “He thought you and Benedict would be excellent together.”

Not a trace of emotion flickered across Emma’s face. She was confident in that. When it came to Cassidy, she’d long ago learned to ward off pesky things like feelings.

Emma handed back Camille’s cellphone. “I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“Fine,” Camille said with a shrug. “Doesn’t mean that you can’t date. Have sex. Have fun.”

“I can have fun without a man.”

“Of course you can. We all can. But, Emma…” Camille’s face was kind, and that was unnerving. “You’re young. You’re beautiful. And from one cynic to another…if you wrap yourself in bitterness too long, it will start to seep inside you.”