Her head was swimming now, the champagne mixing with the humidity of the room, and she felt light, as if she could float away. As if none of this really mattered anyway, not the disaster with Zane, or the confusion about Montgomery, or even the awkwardness with—
“Knightley!” Nadine exclaimed.
Emma’s eyes widened, her weightless heart suddenly falling like lead in her chest.
“What?”
Nadine waved toward the doorway behind Emma. “Knightley’s here!”
She took a deep breath and turned.
There he was. Tall and gorgeous in a dark oxford shirt and scarf hanging around his neck. And on his arm was the stunning, dark-haired woman who Emma had seen through her window drinking and flirting with Knightley in the back garden. The same woman who was apparently his date tonight: Davina Sundar.
CHAPTER 18
He wanted to go home. Hell, if Knightley was being honest, he never wanted to leave his house to begin with. It made it worse that he could see the damn thing from a block away: the Crawfords’ unassuming townhouse now draped in purple uplights, with music echoing from somewhere behind its massive front door.
He could still go home, he told himself as he and Davina ascended the front steps, but he knew that was a lie. Davina had been grinning ear to ear since he picked her up earlier, and now she was squeezing his arm as they entered the main room, her eyes surveying the crowd, the bar, the dance floor in the conservatory just beyond.
She was lovely, really. Beautiful and intelligent and perfect for him.
But he still just wanted to go home.
“Knightley!” He heard Nadine’s voice over the music and looked over to the bar to find her smiling so broadly that he wondered if the drink in her hand wasn’t her first. She jumped up and down, looking to her side where Emma stood.
Fuck. She looked gorgeous.
He ignored the thought, instead guiding Davina over to them.
“Hello,” he said blankly.
Emma mustered a smile, avoiding his gaze as she turned to Davina.
“Hello, you must be Davina,” she said. “I’m Emma. I’ve heard so much about you.”
Davina smiled back. “So nice to meet you too…” She leaned forward a bit, as if trying to hear over the music. “I’m sorry, what was your name again? Emmy?”
Emma’s smile faltered. It only lasted a moment, but he saw it. A sudden wave of guilt flooded Knightley’s chest.
“Emma,” she answered. “And this is my friend, Nadine.”
Davina smiled and nodded.
“I love your outfit,” Nadine said, motioning to Davina’s black velvet mini dress.
“Thank you. It’s Alexandre Vauthier,” Davina said, smoothing the front of her skirt.
Nadine nodded, though her forehead creased, as if whatever Davina had just said was a foreign language.
“You look lovely, Nadine,” Knightley said.
Nadine held out her hands and gave a mock-curtsy. “Thank you. It’s H&M.”
He could see Emma trying to bite back a smile, a real one this time. She almost managed it, too, but as soon as Nadine turned to her, they both dissolved into laughter, leaning into each other as they tried miserably to stop. He looked down to Davina, expecting a look of disapproval on her face, but found her smiling too, like she was moments away from joining them.
The laughter died a moment later and suddenly the foursome was swallowed up in silence. The pounding music, the cacophony of conversation, nothing penetrated the bubble of awkwardnessthat they found themselves in. And it was only when Knightley met Nadine’s gaze again, how she looked like she was waiting for something, how her eyes darted to Emma’s outfit, that he realized why: she was expecting him to compliment Emma, too.
Of course he should compliment her. God, he wanted to. But the words became entangled in his throat, a mess of what he should say and what he wanted to.
