He stared out the window of his office, watching the snow swirl around, remembering how the flakes would stick to Sophie’s lashes.

Sophie. The name seemed to fit her, yet it was so strange to think of her that way. Like a bloody fool, he’d watched too many of her videos. Maybe he was just a masochist, but he’d wanted to see the real Sophie Blackwood in her element.

She’d positively shined and was so personable, so fun.

He hated to admit that he recognized in her the woman he’d started falling for. He’d thought Roslyn had been just a facade, but Sophie was the same, just like she’d said. And yet there was such a difference that he couldn’t put his finger on. He tried yet again to push the thought away and refocus on work.

The gray skies didn’t help his mood right now, neither did the fact that he couldn’t pinpoint a location to have the farewell party for Seraphina. He wanted to make things as easy as possible for her and Clint.

His cell vibrated on his desk with an incoming text and Nigel glanced over his shoulder. Ellen’s name popped up.

On a sigh, he grabbed his cell and opened the message.

I haven’t heard much from you. I’m worried. Nana doesn’t know anything because she just messaged me about “that nice American girl” coming back next month and doing a girls’ luncheon.

telling her they broke up. He didn’t want to tell her

pretense of her being his girlfriend

was a mess. So much deceit,

text, telling his sister he was fine and just busy at work and that he’d take

hadn’t even put his phone down when it rang and Miranda’s

the screen

can I do

a bad time,”

his own self-pity party, this was the perfect time for a distraction...unless there

leaving the

I’m not. I’m not calling about work. I’m calling

“Is that right?”

know Sophie was in New York trying to find something damning

onto the leather sofa.

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