“No, it’s okay,” Emma said, setting her hand on Grace’s arm before Grace’s glare could bore a hole in Riley’s forehead.
All eyes turned to her and Cassidy, and Emma fiddled with her fork.
Riley tilted her head. “You did abandon her on her wedding day, right?” Her voice was quieter now. More hesitant.
Cassidy lifted his wine glass. “She mentioned that bit, did she?”
“Because it happened,” Emma said, refusing to let Cassidy get away with talking about her as though she weren’t there.
He hesitated. “It did,” he said slowly, cutting her a brief thoughtful glance as he swirled his wine glass before turning his attention back to Riley.
“Did Emma also mention that the night before her wedding, she threw her engagement ring at my head?” he asked.
Attention shifted from Cassidy to Emma, and all eyes were rather wide. Including the guys’.
She lifted her finger in protest. “I assure you, it was well deserved.”
“Tell me something, Jake, since you’re the only married guy,” Cassidy said, leaning forward so he could glance down the table at Jake.
Jake leaned back in his chair to avoid Cassidy’s gaze. “I am not here. I can’t see you, I can’t hear you. . . . Please for the love of God leave me out of this.”
Cassidy pressed on. “If Grace had told you the night before your wedding that you were the last man on earth that she would ever consider marrying, would you have shown up the next day?”
“Emma!” Julie gasped. “You told him that?”
“Trust me,” Emma said, waving her fork around at the group. “You would have thrown your ring, too, and had words if you knew the full story.”
“But you still showed up the next day?” Grace asked Emma, her voice gentle.
Yup. Emma had shown up the next day. Cassidy hadn’t. Her sister had had to drag her away from the church and had patiently fed a couch-ridden Emma nothing but root beer floats for two weeks before quietly insisting that Emma was too young to throw her life away.
So Emma had gotten off the couch. Brushed her hair. And moved to New York City, and never looked back.
“It doesn’t matter,” Emma said, when the silence stretched on. “It was a long time ago when we were both immature and stupid. We’ve moved on.”
Cassidy nodded once in agreement. “We’ve moved on.”
But from the looks going around the table, Emma had the sneaking suspicion that she and Cassidy were the only ones who believed that.
Chapter 12
Alex’s day had been complete shit.
Two copy editors had quit within an hour of each other. Then one of the printers had gone on the fritz. A major advertiser had declared bankruptcy and pulled out of a prime spot in the December issue.
And just as he was thinking it was impossible for the night to be any worse than the day, an epic thunderstorm rolled in on as he walked home—without an umbrella.
All Alex wanted was a glass of the French Malbec he’d opened the night before and the spy thriller he’d been trying to finish for weeks but just couldn’t quite find the time for.
Alex caught the elevator at his apartment building just as it was closing, running a hand through his wet hair, only to glance up sheepishly when he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Sorry,” he muttered at a guy he didn’t recognize.
“No worries,” the man said in a British accent. “Coming down rather hard out there, isn’t it?”
Alex glanced at the man, whose reddish-brown hair was perfectly styled and not the least bit wet. Neither was the bottom of his gray suit pants water-marked like Alex’s, and his Burberry jacket didn’t show so much as a drop. Even the umbrella in the man’s hand was dry.
Clearly he’d taken a cab. Or had a personal driver.