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.

just telling her they broke up. He didn’t want

he’d taken Sophie home under the pretense of her being his

a mess. So

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

put his phone down when it rang and

the

What can I do

isn’t a

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

the show,” he

through the phone. “No, I’m not. I’m not calling about work. I’m calling about your

“Is that right?”

“I know Sophie

office and sank down onto the

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