Oxford was the brother-magazine of Stiletto, where Emma and the other bridesmaids worked. Daisy spoke with her sister enough to know that it was a tight-knit crew, but before flying into town she’d still had to do her homework to keep everyone straight.

Emma (Stiletto) was marrying Cassidy (Oxford) who was friends with Jake (also Oxford) who was married to Grace (Stiletto again, and Emma’s best friend)…

Then there was Mollie, who wasn’t connected to either magazine other than through her relationship with Jackson Burke, but it felt like she was since they were all thick as thieves.

Daisy rubbed her forehead. It was a headache.

And though she’d never admit it, she was maybe just a tiny bit jealous. Jealous that Emma was marrying the love of her life, surrounded by a group of friends who were there for one another no matter what.

Daisy hadn’t lost all her friends after Gary had left, but enough. Enough had fled once Daisy no longer fit into their double dates out on the town in Charlotte and baby showers at the country club as newlyweds had slowly transitioned to new parents.

She was happy for her sister, but it felt a little like her twin’s life was taking off at the very moment Daisy’s crumbled around her.

“Who’s hot?” Daisy said, turning her attention back to Mollie.

The pretty blonde laughed. “I guess that wasn’t a fair question. We’re sort of surrounded by testosterone here. I thought I was used to this crew’s good looks, but seeing these guys in their tuxes…”

Daisy’s gaze flitted back to where Lincoln was laughing with her sister.

“It’s hard not to stare, right?”

Daisy looked back at Mollie, who was giving her a kind smile, as though understanding exactly who Daisy was looking at—thinking about.

She decided not to play coy. “Lincoln’s…well, he’s everything Emma promised he would be. Is it true half the city’s female population’s in love with him?”

Mollie snorted and sipped her red wine. “Half? It’s got to be three-quarters at least. Even those of us solidly in love with someone else can’t help be at least a little in love with Lincoln Mathis.”

“Surely the long line of brokenhearted women must be catching up with him?”

“Actually, not so much,” Mollie said. “Nobody’s quite figured out how he manages, but despite his having a black book bigger than the Bible, there doesn’t seem to be even a trace of bitterness among his ex-flings.”

“That’s…impressive.”

“It is.”

“Gay?” Daisy asked casually, more intrigued than she wanted to let on.

“I don’t know. Maybe? But I don’t get that vibe,” Mollie said, as they watched Lincoln be led onto the dance floor by a dazzling brunette in a tight dress.

Daisy hadn’t gotten that vibe either. When she’d made her way toward him at the rehearsal dinner last night, she’d felt the way he’d watched her. It was the way of a man watching a woman. Appreciative. Intent.

But by the time she’d introduced herself, the shutters had come back down, all the intensity in that blue gaze replaced by charming playfulness.

Still, he was…compelling. And very, very likable. She understood why Emma had warned her. A few years ago, Lincoln Mathis would have been exactly the type of guy Daisy would have been drawn to.

He was the handsome to her pretty, the suave city guy to her charming Southern belle. They could have taken this wedding—and the after-wedding—by storm if they wanted to.

But Emma needn’t have worried. Daisy was no longer that girl. Sure, she played the part. On the surface, she was still the same sweet-natured Daisy Sinclair that she’d always been. Only Emma knew otherwise.

Well, Emma, and perhaps Lincoln Mathis, she thought, as his gaze once again found hers over the head of the brunette who was doing an R-rated grind against his pelvis.

She expected another playboy wink, but instead he inclined his chin slightly, as though he understood her thoughts.

“Huh,” Mollie said, reminding Daisy that she wasn’t alone.

“Huh what?” Daisy asked, glancing over at the pretty blonde.

“That’s twice now, he’s sought you out in the crowd,” Mollie replied thoughtfully.

“He’s a ladies’ man,” Daisy said in amusement. “Isn’t that what he does?”

“Lincoln’s a ladies’ man, plural,” Mollie said. “Meaning all the ladies, never just one.”

“I haven’t even spoken to him tonight.”

“Sometimes eye contact says it all,” Mollie said, nudging her elbow against Daisy’s.

Daisy laughed and glanced over. “You’re a romantic.”

Mollie’s eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Jackson Burke, laughing with some of his coworkers. “I have reason to be.”

Yeah, well, I have reason not to be, Daisy thought.

The relentless tempo of some forgettable Top 40 hit faded into a slow song, and Daisy watched in amusement as Mollie’s smile grew even wider as Jackson Burke started making his way toward her with purpose.

“You care if I ditch you?” Mollie asked softly, setting her empty glass on a nearby tray.

“Of course not,” Daisy said, waving Mollie away.

Daisy took another sip of her champagne, watching as wedding guests took their places on the dance floor, warding off her boredom by trying to guess how long each couple had been together based on body language.