“Did your Oxford team really tell you I went on a date with Cole?” she asked.
Cassidy snorted. “If you knew them like I did, you wouldn’t be the least bit surprised.”
“But why’d they do it? I mean…why lie?”
He swirled his wine. “Because they wanted to coax me into asking out Alisha. They thought if I knew you were going on a date with Cole, I’d take action.”
“Did it work?”
He glanced at her. “Hell, yes, it worked.”
The admission surprised her. She and Cassidy had been seeing other people for years. As far as she could tell, her love life had never had an impact on his, and vice versa.
She wanted to ask what had changed, but couldn’t bring herself to form the question. Wasn’t entirely sure she wanted—or was ready for—the answer.
“You’re not asking why,” he said with a wry smile.
“Noticed that, did you?”
“Date whomever you want, Emma. Just not one of my employees. Especially not Cole. Or Lincoln. Or—”
She bristled a little at the rough command. “You don’t get to decide who I fall in love with.”
“Fair enough,” he said quietly.
They both fell silent as Jana placed burgers in front of them, and oh holy heck had Cassidy been right about this place having one hell of a hamburger.
The fries were hot and perfectly salty, the burger was juicy and messy and decadent. Emma felt juice run down her chin and only halfheartedly swiped at it with her napkin because she was too busy taking the next bite.
“Good, huh?” he said with a knowing smile.
She could only shake her head. “Best Saturday night meal ever.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Even with the company?”
She picked up a fry and bit into it as she met his eyes, alarmed by the response that popped into her head but that she didn’t dare say.
That this night was perfect because of the company.
Chapter 15
In Emma’s rather substantial list of ex-boyfriends, there were only two that she was dreading talking to about their past.
One was her very sexy neighbor/temporary boss/former fiancé.
She hadn’t even let herself think about what it would be like when it came time to interview Cassidy. She’d deal with that when she was ready. Which might be never.
And the other…the other was Joel Lambert.
They’d met when she was twenty-six, and dated for two years, making him her longest relationship since Cassidy.
Joel was an absolutely vital part of Emma’s “ex” picture.
She also suspected he was going to be one ex who didn’t exactly have good things to say about her.
Emma and Joel had met at the most clichéd of New York meet-cute spots: an art gallery opening. Emma’s pre-Stiletto employer had gotten a handful of employees the exclusive tickets after they’d won a prestigious journalism award, and Joel’s sister had been friends with the artist.
She and Joel had one crucial thing in common: new to New York status, which meant that they’d do pretty much anything to develop their social life…even if it meant a Thursday night in an art gallery in which the artist’s specialty was sculptures made from dried pasta. For real.
It hadn’t been love at first sight. Or even lust. It had been more beeline for the bar because that’s the only way to survive the evening.
They’d stepped up to the cash bar at the exact same time, and done the whole you first, no you first thing.
Two glasses of Chardonnay later, Joel had suggested they grab a bite to eat at an Italian place around the corner.
Two months later, they were spending nearly every evening and most weekends together.
Two years later, Joel had taken Emma to a swanky steakhouse in Rockefeller Center, and proposed sometime between Emma’s filet mignon and the crème br?lée they’d agreed to split.
Two minutes after the proposal went down, the only thing splitting was Joel and Emma. She’d finished the crème br?lée alone.
No ring.