The Trouble with Love Page 14


Cassidy’s hand found Danielle’s waist, mimicking the position of Benedict’s hand on Emma’s.

For the briefest of seconds, his gaze burned into Emma’s and she felt herself go hot, before going cold. Very, very cold.

She forced her gaze to Danielle, ready with a Nice to see you again greeting, but Danielle wasn’t looking at her.

Nor was she looking at Cassidy.

Her blue eyes were locked on Benedict, and she looked dazed.

“Danielle, you remember Emma?” Cassidy said.

“Sure, hi!” Danielle said, her voice a little sharp as she gave Emma a wide, false smile. Her gaze immediately went back to Benedict’s and then she glanced at the ground.

Puzzled, Emma looked at her date and saw that he, too, looked shell-shocked before seeming to recover.

“Benedict Wade,” he said, extending a hand toward Danielle.

Emma’s nose scrunched in confusion. All night long, Benedict had been charming and jovial, but now his tone was almost reverent.

Danielle extended her hand, and Emma could have sworn she saw sparks when their fingers made contact. Actual sparks.

They both jerked back.

Emma lifted an eyebrow and her gaze found Cassidy’s just as he looked at hers. For once, their eye contact was free of subtext. For the first time in a long time, they were on the same page.

The page of confusion.

“Have you two met?” Emma asked, unable to keep her curiosity at bay.

“No,” Danielle said, still sounding dazed.

Benedict wordlessly shook his head.

Emma’s eyes met Cassidy’s again, wondering if he realized what was going on here. Emma was pretty sure that his girlfriend and her date had just stumbled upon the elusive insta-love.

Also known as love at first sight.

Also known as They are complete idiots if they think it will ever last.

Still, Emma knew when she was beat. She and Benedict had gotten along fine. More than fine. But the air was practically sizzling with sexual tension, and it wasn’t between her and Benedict.

Emma’d bet that even Camille hadn’t seen this turn of events coming.

Emma cleared her throat, just as Cassidy glanced down at Danielle. “Shall we let these two get back to their date?” he said.

“Oh! Sure!” Danielle said, forcing a smile for Emma.

“It was nice meeting you,” Benedict rushed to say.

“You, too.”

Danielle and Benedict held each other’s gaze for just a second longer than necessary before she followed Cassidy toward the lobby.

Danielle didn’t look back. If she did, she would have caught Benedict staring after her.

Emma sighed. All chances of a perfect first-date kiss had just evaporated.

His gaze swung back around to her. “They seem nice.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Emma said.

“They been seeing each other long?”

Emma didn’t bother to dignify that with a response. Ten minutes ago, she’d been ready to offer this guy her lips.

Now she offered him her hand. “Thanks for dinner. I had a really nice time.”

He glanced down at the hand, then back at her face. He wasn’t so gauche as to look relieved at the lack of a good night kiss, but he didn’t exactly seem disappointed, either.

Benedict took the hand and lifted it to his lips in an old-fashioned way that was sweet and gentlemanly, and did absolutely nothing for her.

He made a noncommittal statement about calling her soon, and she made a similarly noncommittal murmur about looking forward to it.

Five minutes later, Emma had poured herself a hefty glass of Merlot and an emergency handful of Goldfish crackers.

She headed to the guest room she’d claimed as her own and curled up cross-legged on the bed, cellphone in hand as she nipped a Goldfish between her teeth and texted her sister. After Emma had moved to New York, Daisy used to call her every three to four days like clockwork. They’d talk about their respective jobs, men, and whichever singing/dancing TV show was hot at the moment, and Daisy would gently remind Emma that “blond highlights don’t maintain themselves.” Emma had eventually given up on highlights altogether, something that Daisy lamented every year at their annual New Orleans weekend together, since Daisy hated the city, and Emma hated anything having to do with North Carolina.

But then Daisy had gotten married.

Emma had never been a fan of Gary. And she really hadn’t been a fan of the way he’d somehow talked her sometimes prima donna sister into a quickie wedding at the courthouse. But Daisy had been happy, and Emma had been determined not to interfere in Daisy’s relationship the way Daisy had in hers. In hindsight, Emma wished she had spoken up.

At first Emma thought her sister’s phone calls had stopped because she was a distracted new bride, but when the text messages began, Emma knew it was the opposite. Daisy was miserable. She and her husband lived in a tiny apartment in Raleigh. Daisy’s only free time to talk was in the evenings after work, which was also when Gary was most likely to be home. So Daisy had texted. Casual complaints at first. He was irritable. Would get mad when she hadn’t made dinner, and then wouldn’t show up when she had. The television was always turned to sports and changing the channel was “not up for discussion.” Then things had gotten worse. He wouldn’t come home at all. He’d leave the room whenever he took a phone call. He’d yell at Daisy whenever she mentioned the prospect of starting a family. The best text Emma had ever received was the one saying Daisy was getting a divorce.

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