“No, it’s not,” she murmured.

Everything in her tone said she wasn’t a stranger to the feelings he’d just described. And when she spoke again, it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

“I should go,” she said again.

Don’t. Please don’t.

The thought caught him off guard and he frowned.

But it was the first time in so long that she’d let him near her. The first time she’d talked to him, even if there seemed to be miles of distance between them instead of just a kitchen counter.

He didn’t want it to end.

“How’s Daisy?” he asked, desperate to keep her around.

Her gaze flicked up. Wary, at the mention of her twin sister. “She’s good.”

“I used to get Christmas cards from her, but they stopped a year or so ago. I figured maybe you’d forbidden her to contact me.”

She laughed. “Don’t flatter yourself. I didn’t care that much. But don’t take it personally. She quit sending Christmas cards altogether after her divorce.”

“Ah. I’m sorry. I hadn’t heard.”

He and Daisy had been friendly enough in college and during his and Emma’s engagement, but after the way he and Emma imploded, he figured it was pretty natural that Emma’s twin sister wasn’t exactly inviting him to dinner parties.

“Yeah, her ex-husband is a tool,” Emma said. “All Daisy ever wanted was to start a family, but Gary put her on hold for years, saying he needed to focus on launching his career. That he didn’t have time for a family. Then bam, out of nowhere, he files for divorce. Turns out he took up with his boss. Who was…wait for it…pregnant with his baby.”

“Ouch.”

Emma nodded. “Definitely. Daisy took it hard, but she’s bouncing back now. She always does.”

“And your father?”

Emma’s eyes went a little frosty at that. “I’m surprised you don’t know. He confided in you more than he ever has in me.”

Alex immediately regretted asking, because the shit of it was…Emma’s accusation was true.

Winston Sinclair cared about his daughters desperately, but he could also be a misogynistic ass who thought nothing of sticking his rich, well-connected nose where it didn’t belong.

Still, Alex had occasional kind thoughts toward the man. Not only because he’d helped a college kid with nothing but soccer to his name and gave him a chance at an actual career. But also because Winston had been the one responsible for Emma and Cassidy getting together, albeit by accident.

However, the man had also been the catalyst for things going to complete shit the night before the wedding.

For that, Alex’s thoughts were dark and furious.

“Emma—”

She held up her hand. “We don’t have to do this, Cassidy. Actually, let’s not do this.”

He told himself not to be hurt at the rejection.

“Still, there is something I’ve been wondering ever since you got to town,” she said, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Why New York? Why Oxford?”

He gave her a half smile. “You want to know if I knew you worked at Stiletto when I came to work for its brother magazine?”

“I have wondered.”

“No,” he said, simply. Honestly. “I didn’t know. In fact, I signed the contract months before my actual start date. Before you took the job.”

She helped herself to another glass of wine and shook her head. “I’ll buy that. Hell of a coincidence, though, isn’t it?”

“It is. Although perhaps not so much when you consider our ambitions have always overlapped. You’ve always wanted to write; I’ve always wanted to be in print media.”

“Oh, I remember that well,” she said, lifting her glass to him in derision. “That’s the reason you got in good with my father, right?”

Shit. He’d walked right into that one.

Emma widened her eyes as though just thinking of something. “Oh, wait…wasn’t that also the reason you agreed to go on a date with his daughter in the first place?”

“For someone who doesn’t want to go there, you’re certainly…going there.”

“You’re right,” she said, lifting her hands. “Let’s absolutely not. So tell me something else. I know you hightailed it out of North Carolina before the wedding cake went stale. Where’d you go?”

He smiled. “You didn’t look me up even once?”

“It hurt too much.”

Alex sucked in a breath at the unexpected admission. “Em—”

“Back then,” she corrected. “Back then it hurt too much. After a few months…I just didn’t care.”

Now his chest hurt for a different reason. But he didn’t have the right to be hurt. Not really. He’d held on to his anger for a long time. Couldn’t blame her for doing the same.

“I went to San Francisco,” he said. “Helped launch a couple start-up magazine publications there. Got familiar with the digital space. I didn’t think much about New York until a headhunter tracked me down for the Oxford position. What I lacked in editorial experience I made up for in digital content and vision.”

“Lucky us,” she muttered.

“What about you?” he asked, wanting to keep her talking. “Why New York?”

She glanced up. “Honestly? Because it’s huge. Because I wanted to escape to a place where I could be anonymous. You know…all the classic reasons small-town girls escape to the bright lights and big city.”