The Trouble with Love
Page 50
World. Tilted.
Cassidy had wanted to date…Daisy?
He hadn’t even known she existed?
Emma stared blindly at her father for several seconds, waiting for him to get to the punch line of the joke.
When he merely grinned as his audience chuckled, not bothering to look at her, Emma’s gaze shifted to her sister, who was watching her helplessly. Her expression was devastated…but not surprised.
Daisy had known.
Finally, finally, she looked at Cassidy, silently begging him to deny it.
Deny that not only had he needed to be bribed to ask her out, but that she’d been his second choice.
Please, somebody, anybody, deny it!
But when she looked at the man she was going to marry the next day, he didn’t look puzzled or outraged.
He seemed…resigned. As though somehow he’d known this part of their past would come back to bite him.
Only…he’d never told her.
They’d been dating for more than three years. Plenty of time for him to say, “Oh, by the way, you know what’s funny? Your dad totally set us up, only at the time I didn’t realize Daisy was a twin.”
But he hadn’t. He’d never once let her think that their chance encounter in the bookstore that day was anything less than serendipitous.
She watched as his eyes closed in guilty resignation, and she shook her head in denial. She was dimly aware that the other partygoers had started to notice that this wasn’t a good-natured how-they-met story, and the whispers started.
Daisy hissed something to their father before heading back toward Emma, her expression fiercely protective. But Winston Sinclair was too far gone on his bourbon. Too busy enjoying the microphone and the chance to grandstand.
This time when he motioned for the bartender to get him another drink, Daisy wasn’t there to stop him, and he got an unneeded refill, still unaware, or uncaring, of the turmoil exploding in his daughter.
Daisy arrived at her side, and Emma’s expression must have revealed every horrible emotion rolling through her, because her sister wrapped her arms firmly around Emma’s biceps and started to tug her toward the exit.
“Let’s go to the ladies’ room,” she said softly, smiling widely at the rest of the attendees as though to say Nothing to see here.
Emma started to let herself be hauled off, her eyes never leaving Cassidy. He finally seemed to snap out of his daze, because his head whipped around toward her, and he started to move in her direction, his expression desperate.
And then Emma’s father started talking again.
“Damn it, will he not shut up,” Daisy hissed under her breath.
That made Emma skid to a halt. Daisy never swore. If her sister was saying damn in public, it meant that this train wreck wasn’t over yet.
“You knew,” Emma said to Daisy, her voice wobbling.
Daisy’s face was panicked. “Emma, I swear to God, I never wanted Cassidy.”
“But you knew he wanted to ask you out.”
Daisy closed her eyes. “Daddy told me when Cassidy picked you up on your first date. I was horrified, Emma, but I swear to God, he never even looked at me after he met you. And I never wanted him. You have to believe me.”
Emma searched her sister’s face. She believed her. And yet…
“You never told me.” Emma’s voice broke.
Daisy’s face crumpled. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You liked him so much, and—”
Emma pulled her arm free just as Cassidy appeared at her side, his hand reaching out for her, but she jerked back. From both of them.
She turned to face her father, determined to hear the last of what he had to say.
“Well,” Winston said, taking a swallow of his drink. “I’ll wrap this up….I know everybody’s anxious to sit down for the delicious dinner the Cassidys have planned for us, but I’ll just say one last bit.”
Her father squinted around the room then, and for a second she thought he had a moment of clarity. That maybe he realized that the bride hadn’t exactly dashed up to stand next to him while he spoke.
But he wasn’t looking for her. Instead, Winston’s eyes landed on Cassidy and he grinned, before lifting his glass. “If you could all grab your beverage of choice, I’d like to make a toast to my future son-in-law, who might just be the wiliest son of a bitch I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”
“Don’t,” Cassidy said harshly, from beside her, but not loud enough for her father to hear. As if her dad would have stopped.
And at this point, Emma wasn’t sure she wanted her father to stop. She wanted—needed—to hear it all.
“To Cassidy,” Winston said, with a nod. “For having the balls to one-up an old man. See, back when he was an intern, I was one step ahead of him, but about a year ago, he got in front of me. Not twenty-four hours after I told Cassidy that I’d only pass Sinclair Media Group on to family, my darling Emma bursts into my house for Sunday dinner with an announcement: She was engaged to Alex Cassidy. Well played, son. Well played.”
Winston laughed, although nobody else did, all long past realizing what Emma’s father hadn’t: This was not a story to be told at a rehearsal dinner.
Or at all.
Very slowly, Emma turned to face her fiancé. “You’re marrying me for my father’s company?”
Cassidy’s features twisted, and suddenly he looked decades older than his twenty-five years. “Emma. No. No. I just—”
Cassidy had wanted to date…Daisy?
He hadn’t even known she existed?
Emma stared blindly at her father for several seconds, waiting for him to get to the punch line of the joke.
When he merely grinned as his audience chuckled, not bothering to look at her, Emma’s gaze shifted to her sister, who was watching her helplessly. Her expression was devastated…but not surprised.
Daisy had known.
Finally, finally, she looked at Cassidy, silently begging him to deny it.
Deny that not only had he needed to be bribed to ask her out, but that she’d been his second choice.
Please, somebody, anybody, deny it!
But when she looked at the man she was going to marry the next day, he didn’t look puzzled or outraged.
He seemed…resigned. As though somehow he’d known this part of their past would come back to bite him.
Only…he’d never told her.
They’d been dating for more than three years. Plenty of time for him to say, “Oh, by the way, you know what’s funny? Your dad totally set us up, only at the time I didn’t realize Daisy was a twin.”
But he hadn’t. He’d never once let her think that their chance encounter in the bookstore that day was anything less than serendipitous.
She watched as his eyes closed in guilty resignation, and she shook her head in denial. She was dimly aware that the other partygoers had started to notice that this wasn’t a good-natured how-they-met story, and the whispers started.
Daisy hissed something to their father before heading back toward Emma, her expression fiercely protective. But Winston Sinclair was too far gone on his bourbon. Too busy enjoying the microphone and the chance to grandstand.
This time when he motioned for the bartender to get him another drink, Daisy wasn’t there to stop him, and he got an unneeded refill, still unaware, or uncaring, of the turmoil exploding in his daughter.
Daisy arrived at her side, and Emma’s expression must have revealed every horrible emotion rolling through her, because her sister wrapped her arms firmly around Emma’s biceps and started to tug her toward the exit.
“Let’s go to the ladies’ room,” she said softly, smiling widely at the rest of the attendees as though to say Nothing to see here.
Emma started to let herself be hauled off, her eyes never leaving Cassidy. He finally seemed to snap out of his daze, because his head whipped around toward her, and he started to move in her direction, his expression desperate.
And then Emma’s father started talking again.
“Damn it, will he not shut up,” Daisy hissed under her breath.
That made Emma skid to a halt. Daisy never swore. If her sister was saying damn in public, it meant that this train wreck wasn’t over yet.
“You knew,” Emma said to Daisy, her voice wobbling.
Daisy’s face was panicked. “Emma, I swear to God, I never wanted Cassidy.”
“But you knew he wanted to ask you out.”
Daisy closed her eyes. “Daddy told me when Cassidy picked you up on your first date. I was horrified, Emma, but I swear to God, he never even looked at me after he met you. And I never wanted him. You have to believe me.”
Emma searched her sister’s face. She believed her. And yet…
“You never told me.” Emma’s voice broke.
Daisy’s face crumpled. “I didn’t want to hurt you. You liked him so much, and—”
Emma pulled her arm free just as Cassidy appeared at her side, his hand reaching out for her, but she jerked back. From both of them.
She turned to face her father, determined to hear the last of what he had to say.
“Well,” Winston said, taking a swallow of his drink. “I’ll wrap this up….I know everybody’s anxious to sit down for the delicious dinner the Cassidys have planned for us, but I’ll just say one last bit.”
Her father squinted around the room then, and for a second she thought he had a moment of clarity. That maybe he realized that the bride hadn’t exactly dashed up to stand next to him while he spoke.
But he wasn’t looking for her. Instead, Winston’s eyes landed on Cassidy and he grinned, before lifting his glass. “If you could all grab your beverage of choice, I’d like to make a toast to my future son-in-law, who might just be the wiliest son of a bitch I’ve had the pleasure of working with.”
“Don’t,” Cassidy said harshly, from beside her, but not loud enough for her father to hear. As if her dad would have stopped.
And at this point, Emma wasn’t sure she wanted her father to stop. She wanted—needed—to hear it all.
“To Cassidy,” Winston said, with a nod. “For having the balls to one-up an old man. See, back when he was an intern, I was one step ahead of him, but about a year ago, he got in front of me. Not twenty-four hours after I told Cassidy that I’d only pass Sinclair Media Group on to family, my darling Emma bursts into my house for Sunday dinner with an announcement: She was engaged to Alex Cassidy. Well played, son. Well played.”
Winston laughed, although nobody else did, all long past realizing what Emma’s father hadn’t: This was not a story to be told at a rehearsal dinner.
Or at all.
Very slowly, Emma turned to face her fiancé. “You’re marrying me for my father’s company?”
Cassidy’s features twisted, and suddenly he looked decades older than his twenty-five years. “Emma. No. No. I just—”
