by Sarah Morgan
“I’m on it. I manage everything canine.” Eva slid into her chair and toed off her running shoes. “Matt recommended a fantastic dog-walking business called The Bark Rangers on the Upper East Side and so far our clients are impressed. The owners are twins. My new favorite game is trying to tell them apart. They’re called Fliss and Harry.”
“You can’t tell a man and a woman apart?”
“Harry is short for Harriet. I’ll give them a call.”
Paige frowned. “Matt recommended them? He has a cat. When did he need dog walking?”
“The twins’ brother is a client of his. I think they play poker occasionally. Daniel Knight?”
“The lawyer? I’ve met him. Brilliant by all accounts, not to mention smooth and charming.”
“Single?”
Paige laughed. “Very. He’s also as dangerous as they come. Definitely doesn’t mate for life.”
Eva sighed. “Not my type, then. I’ll have to keep looking.” She perked up as she checked her schedule. “I used to loathe Mondays when we worked for Star Events, but now I love them.” Through the floor-to-ceiling glass behind her, Manhattan basked in a pool of blazing sunshine. Urban Genie operated out of Jake’s company building—he ran a digital marketing firm and had generously let them use one of his boardrooms as they got their own company off the ground. “I love running my own business. And my blog followers tripled overnight so the work side of my life is perfect. Which, of course, means that my love life is totally crap because everyone knows both parts can’t go right at the same time.”
“You need to teach me how to flirt.” The words came out before Frankie could stop them and Eva stared at her.
“Excuse me?”
“Flirt. You know. That thing you do with men without even thinking about it.”
“Er—it’s true that I flirt if I have someone to flirt with, but it’s been so long since I met anyone I’ve probably forgotten how to do it.” Eva slumped in her seat. “There are so many men in Manhattan. They’re everywhere. And I don’t meet a single one of them. My life is a manless, sexless desert. And the con—”
“The condom in your purse has expired. We know. You keep telling us.” Paige gave her an exasperated look. “It’s boring, Ev!”
“It’s a tragedy, that’s what it is. Here I am, a warm, willing woman, and no one wants me. And you’re not allowed to comment, Paige, because you’re getting regular sex.”
“I’m going to buy you a brand-new condom.”
“Don’t bother,” Eva said gloomily. “It will only expire again and I’ll feel guilty that it had a wasted life. Anyway, back to flirting. I can rack my brains and try to remember how to do it if that would be any help. Who are you planning on flirting with?”
Frankie felt her face heat. “No one specific. It’s precautionary training. Like self-defense or basic cookery.”
“Basic flirting. Flirting 101. No problem. I’ll book you in for a one-on-one session.” Eva reached for her phone. “When do you want to start?”
“Not now. I need to be in the right mood.”
“We’ll do it over a bottle of wine. It will loosen you up.”
“You think I need loosening up?”
“Let’s put it this way—your starting point is glaring at every guy as if you’re thinking of stabbing him between the shoulder blades with a sharp implement, so we have a way to go.”
“Am I that bad?”
Eva exchanged glances with Paige, who shook her head.
“You’re lovely as you are. Why do you want to flirt?”
“I hate being tongue-tied when guys say things. I want to memorize a few swift, witty comebacks, that’s all.” She watched as Eva slid her phone into her bag. “Why have your followers tripled?”
“Not sure. It might have been the photo I posted to Instagram.” Eva opened the drawer of her desk and selected a pair of shoes with heels that could have doubled as a lethal weapon. “I took a photo of a cupcake and it looked delicious.”
“Were you in the photo, too?”
“It was a selfie.” Eva slid her feet into the shoes with all the delight of Cinderella discovering the glass slipper fitted.
“Were you dressed at the time? Because there’s your answer.”
“I was dressed!”
Paige was sending a response to the vice president. “Be grateful she wasn’t eating a banana or that might have qualified as Most Embarrassing Moment.”
Frankie didn’t respond.
Right now when it came to Most Embarrassing Moment, she had the edge.
She’d spent the whole of Sunday reliving the moments that had followed Matt’s discovery that her vision was perfect. Feeling as naked and exposed as a snail that had been extracted from the protection of its shell, she’d virtually pushed him out the door.
Had she even said goodbye?
She couldn’t remember. All she remembered was planting her hand on his chest—a strong chest, very muscular—and giving it a good, hard shove. Of course, Matt being built like a linebacker, he could have resisted if he’d wanted to. He hadn’t. Which either meant he’d been as keen to exit the apartment as she was to see him leave, or that he’d been weakened by the shock of discovering that she was wearing glasses when she didn’t need to, and embarrassing didn’t begin to describe that moment.
Frankie squirmed in her seat.
What must he think of her?
She wanted to slink under the table and never come out again, but that would be about as mature as her reaction when he’d raised the subject on Saturday.
She wished she could put the clock back. There were so many more dignified ways she could have reacted. A light, flirtatious response would have been perfect.
“Did you see Matt yesterday?” She kept her tone casual and Paige glanced up from the screen.
“Briefly. Why?”
“No reason. I wondered if he mentioned anything.” Like the fact that he had a deranged woman living in his apartment. A deranged woman with perfect vision.
“He mentioned he’s overloaded with work. I promised to feed Claws tonight because he’s going to be late. He’s going to owe me big-time for that favor. I might need a bodyguard.”
“I am generally considered to be a people-pleaser and the fact that I’m not volunteering to do it in your place tells you what I think of that cat.” Eva stood up. “I’m willing to call the Bronx Zoo if you like and ask if they have any tips for feeding predators. Maybe we could open the window and poke a piece of meat through with a long pole.”
“I’ll feed her.” Frankie shrugged as they both looked at her. “Why not? She’s just a cat.” And it would give her an opportunity to leave a note in Matt’s apartment. She’d apologize for being rude. Then she wouldn’t have to do it face-to-face.
Which meant that she could add cowardice to her other flaws, but never mind.
Turning back to her work, she answered an email from a client who wanted flowers delivered to his wife on a monthly basis.
“Claws isn’t just a cat. She is a psychotic cat,” Eva said. “She scratched me so hard last week I thought my bone was going to fall out through the hole.”
Paige shuddered. “That’s vile.”
“It was vile. Lucas Blade could use that animal in one of his books as a murder weapon.”
“What did you do to her?”
“Nothing! I was trying to hug her! She was abandoned and mistreated. I was trying to show her that not all humans are evil.”
“You have to let her work that out for herself, Ev. You can’t love someone who doesn’t want to be loved.”
“Everyone wants to be loved. If they don’t, it’s because they’re afraid.”
Frankie pressed Send on her email. “Or because they think that love is just too much trouble.”
“That’s another way of saying they’re afraid. Don’t worry, I learned my lesson. I’m not going near her again. From now on I’ll be projecting my positive feelings from a safe distance.” Eva’s
phone rang and she picked it up and wandered out of the room, the fabric of her tiny scarlet skirt skimming her long, tanned legs.
Frankie stared after her, wondering how it felt to be that sexually confident. “Did she forget to dress? If she goes outside wearing that skirt there will be a riot.”
Paige jabbed the charging cable into her phone. “She looks amazing, doesn’t she? We went shopping yesterday when you were lost in your book. Your response to stress is to read, ours is to shop. How was it, by the way?”
“I didn’t make it past the third chapter.”
“That’s not like you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Frankie—”
“It’s Matt.” She closed her laptop. “He found out I don’t need to wear glasses.”
“He— Oh.” Paige let out a long breath. “How? When?”
“Saturday night. He came down looking for Claws. I was on my own and I wasn’t expecting anyone. I was reading and cooking and—I wasn’t paying attention. Long day.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t believe I was so careless.”
“Is it really such a big deal?”
“It’s a huge deal.”
“Why?” Paige sat back in her chair. “Frankie, it’s not as if he’s a stranger. Matt has known you since you were a kid. He knows pretty much everything there is to know about you.”
“He didn’t know I wear glasses even though my vision is perfect.”
“How did he react?”
“I don’t know. I pushed him out the door without asking.” Remembering made her want to crawl under the table. “There were a million things I could have said or done. I could have smiled and said I manage fine without my glasses in the apartment but no, I gave him a shove that would probably have injured someone less powerfully built than your brother.”
“If he upset you, I’ll kill him.” Paige sounded annoyed. “Did he say something tactless?”
“I didn’t give him the chance. It wasn’t his fault. It was me. All me.” She dropped her head in her hands. “What is wrong with me? I’m a sane, independent woman. I’m good at my job—”
“You’re excellent at your job.”
“Yeah, I really am. And I know I’m a disappointing daughter, but I’m a great friend even though I don’t hug enough for Eva.” She lifted her head. “All I’m saying is that in every other aspect of my life I’m pretty normal and function well. Why am I such a basket case around men?”
“Do you seriously need me to answer that?”
“No, but I should have the emotional intelligence not to let the antics of my mother affect my life like this. Matt said he liked me in my T-shirt—he paid me a compliment and I responded as if he’d covered me in anthrax.”
“This is why you want to learn to flirt?”
“I want to learn to be normal.” She looked at her friend in despair. “What am I going to do?”
“Do you mean about the glasses, Matt or men in general?”
“All of it! How can I wear glasses around him knowing that he knows? I’ll feel stupid. And what do I say next time I see him?”
“Whether you wear glasses or not is your choice, Frankie. If you feel more comfortable wearing them, then wear them. And as for what happened on Saturday—” Paige thought for a moment “—you should probably talk to him about it.”
“I was leaning more toward pretending it never happened.” If she could ignore it, she would. “I could leave him a note saying sorry I was weird.”
“You don’t have to do that, Frankie. He knows you.”
“You mean he knows I’m weird.”
Paige smiled. “No. I mean he knows what you grew up with. I don’t understand why this bothers you. This is Matt we’re talking about. Not some stranger.”
It was precisely because it was Matt that it bothered her. Exposing the depth of her hang-ups to a guy she’d known forever and found attractive was mortifying.
Generally she didn’t care what men thought about her, but she cared what Matt thought.
“You’re right. I should have an adult conversation. But I can’t turn ‘hey, I wear glasses but I don’t need them’ into anything that sounds remotely mature.”
Eva walked back into the room. “That was Mitzy. She wants to officially be one of our clients, and before either of you say anything, I know she’s never going to be our biggest earner, but I love her. What’s the matter with you two?” She peered at Frankie. “You’re wearing your doomed face and Paige is wearing her problem-solving face. What’s happened?”
“I have a doomed face?” Just for a moment Frankie wished she had Eva’s confidence. Never in a million years would she go out in public wearing a skirt that short.
“You have the face you wear when things are going wrong.”
Paige stood up and picked up some pages from the printer. “Matt worked out that she doesn’t need glasses.”
“Oh.” Eva’s brow cleared. “Is that all? I thought something awful had happened.”
“That is awful.”
“Why? Wearing glasses is part of who you are. It’s part of your individuality.”
“You mean my hang-ups.”
Eva shrugged. “Hang-ups are individual. The important thing is that you mustn’t be afraid to let people know the real you. That’s what intimacy is.”
“I don’t want intimacy! That’s why I wear the glasses—to repel intimacy.”
“Yes, but—” Eva caught Paige’s eye. “But I strongly defend the right of the individual to wear whatever they like, so I’m making no comment. Is that why you want to know how to flirt? So that next time he talks about your glasses you can turn it into seduction?”
“I wear the glasses so I can be sure I never reach the point of seduction.”
Eva looked baffled. “I love you, but I will never understand you.”
“That goes both ways. And if you don’t comment on my glasses, I won’t comment on that thing you call a skirt.”
“Hey, I am rocking this skirt.” Eva’s cheeks dimpled into a smile as she rotated her hips in a sensuous movement that would have caused multiple collisions had they been in public. “Don’t you love it?”
“I’ve seen wider hair ribbons, but yes, it’s cute. Now tell us about Mitzy.” She needed to stop thinking about Matt and focus on work. “What does she need from us? If she can get me early copies of all Lucas Blade’s releases, I’ll do pretty much anything for her.”
“She wants me to bake him a birthday cake.”
Paige clipped pages together. “Does she really want a cake or is it just an excuse to spend another afternoon talking to you?”
“Does it matter? She’s so kind. And wise.” Eva’s voice thickened. “She reminds me of Grams. And she treats me as if I’m family.”
Eva had such a rosy view of family it made Frankie feel guilty that she couldn’t feel better disposed toward her own.
“Go and see her, Ev. I’ll make up a bunch of flowers for her, and don’t charge her for the cake.”
“I don’t think she minds paying. Money isn’t the problem. But she’s lonely.”
And so are you, Frankie thought, making a mental note to spend more time with her friend. As an introvert, she didn’t seek human contact the way Eva did. She loved her friends, but she was equally comfortable in her own space with her books and her plants. But she knew that with Paige spending more time with Jake, Eva would be spending more time alone.
“Her grandsons don’t visit?”
“One of them rarely leaves Wall Street and Lucas, the one who writes those scary books you love, rarely leaves his apartment unless he’s on a book tour. Apparently, his deadline is looming and he’s Mr. Moody. She wants me to fill his freezer with healthy food, too, so he doesn’t fade away or turn into a vessel for junk food.”
Frankie thought about what had happened to the main character in the opening scene of Lucas Blade’s new book. Then she looked at Eva, who was so gentle you could have knocked her ov
er with one flick of a soft sweater. “I don’t think you should be visiting some reclusive dangerous guy in his apartment by yourself.”
“Who said he was dangerous? I never said he was dangerous.”
“You said he was moody.”
“Well, he lost his wife,” Eva said reasonably. “He’s allowed to be moody.”
“His books are dark, Eva. I mean read-with-the-lights-on dark. That man’s mind works in ways that even freak me out.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it because I’d rather give away my shoe collection than read a horror story. But you can relax. I’m taking the food to Mitzy and she is going over there with Peanut.”
“Who is Peanut?”
“The dog. Very cute. I walked him last time I was there. Much more appreciative than Claws. He’s one of those tiny dogs that fits in a handbag. Lucas bought him for Mitzy, which was actually very thoughtful so he can’t be that dangerous, can he? But thank you for caring.”
“Well, be careful.” Frankie checked her schedule. “I need to go to the flower district tomorrow morning. Final preparations for the Myers-Topper birthday bash on Friday.”
Paige glanced up. “How is the planning for that going?”
“All good. We’re doing a hedge wall, tree rental and fresh flowers. Anyone want to join me?”
“At the flower district at five in the morning?” Eva recoiled. “No, thanks. I’d rather pull out my own eyelashes, which is probably what I’d have to do to stay awake if you got me up at that time.”
“I’ll come. I love it and they sell great coffee in that little bistro.” Paige sent another document to the printer, stood up and stretched. “Time to go. I have a meeting over on Fifth. Are you sure you’re happy to feed Claws? Because if you are then I won’t hurry home.”
“I’ll feed her.”
She’d leave a note for Matt and that would be the end of it.
Matt would sense she didn’t want to talk about it, and being a guy it was a fair assumption that he wouldn’t want to talk about it, either. Neither of them would ever mention it again.