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Sunset In Central Park

Page 7

by Sarah Morgan


  “You’d do the work, but it would have an impact on all of us. We’re a team.” Paige paused. “You and Matt think alike and you have similar taste and style when it comes to all things outdoors. He thinks you’re so talented. After you did the planting for his roof terrace he wouldn’t shut up about how smart you are. And I know you admire his work, too. I would have thought you would jump at the chance to do something together.”

  Do something together?

  Images danced across her brain and heat spread across her neck. “I’ll think about it.”

  Paige studied her. “Are you sure this isn’t about the whole glasses thing? Because—”

  “It’s not about the glasses thing.”

  It was about the door thing. And the compliment thing. And the chemistry thing.

  Mostly, the chemistry thing.

  “Has he told you that the client has built financial penalties into the contract so if the job falls behind it costs Matt directly?”

  “No. He didn’t mention that.”

  Guilt intensified.

  Paige was right; she had her apartment and her independence because of Matt.

  True, she paid him rent, but it was a friendly rent. And it was stupid to worry about the chemistry and her reaction to him. She needed to learn to handle it.

  Brooding, she made her purchases and they walked on through the market.

  Towering plants, specialty cut flowers, tropical flowers and dried botanicals crowded the sidewalk on both sides, creating a lush avenue with a sultry feel. Usually it calmed her, but not today.

  Paige reached out to touch the leaves of a tropical palm tree. The thicket of greenery blocked out the sound of traffic and for a moment it was possible to forget they were in the middle of the city. “Talking of Urban Genie, we need to discuss the Smyth-Bennett engagement party in a couple of weeks.”

  Frankie’s heart sank.

  Another engagement party.

  “What is there to discuss?”

  “They want to change the brief.”

  “Isn’t it a bit late for that?”

  “They’re the clients.” Paige shrugged. “They want something more romantic. Or rather, the bride-to-be does and the groom-to-be is going along with it.”

  “How have we ended up doing so many romantic events?” She stuck her face in a bunch of flowers. “Whatever happened to product launches and corporate functions?”

  “We have those booked in, too, but it’s summer and love is in the air.”

  “Francesca! Francesca! Is that really you?”

  Recognizing her mother’s voice, Frankie shrank back into the nearest store. “Oh crap, no.”

  Paige turned. “Stay calm.”

  “Why? Can we hide? Is it too late? Why is she here? How did she find me?”

  “I don’t think she was looking for you. I’m guessing it’s a chance encounter.”

  Frankie moaned. “Party dress?”

  Paige peeped around the flowers. “Purple. Sparkly. Short. It’s either a party dress or she’s cheerfully dressed for breakfast. She’s channeling the showgirl look.”

  “Kill me now. This place is heaving with people. I know some of them. If she talks to me for more than five seconds I’ll have to move to Seattle.”

  “Then we’ll make this quick because I can’t see myself in Seattle. I’d love the coffee, but the climate would kill me.” Paige stepped into the street and Frankie followed her, grabbing her arm.

  “Is she on her own?”

  “No.”

  “Is he younger than us?”

  “Hard to tell, but he’s certainly a long way from retirement.” Paige braced her shoulders, the way she did when she handled a difficult client. “Good morning, Mrs. Cole.”

  “Paige!” Gina Cole teetered up to them, clutching the arm of a man Frankie guessed to be in his midtwenties. “How many times have I told you to call me Gina? Mrs. Cole makes me sound so old. You’re looking very pale, Paige. I hope you’re not sick again, honey.”

  “I’m not sick.” Paige kept her tone civil. “It’s five thirty in the morning and—”

  “You need a good foundation. I can recommend one, although personally I like to layer different products and I’m a total fan of strobing. Look at my skin. You wouldn’t guess I haven’t been to sleep yet, would you?” She tugged at the arm of the man next to her. “Have you met Dev? Dev, meet Paige and Frankie. Frankie is—” there was a brief moment of hesitation “—my daughter.”

  “No way.” Dev responded with the appropriate amount of disbelief, and Frankie caught Paige’s eye.

  Seeing her friend’s amusement made her feel better, until she saw her mother slide her hand over Dev’s butt and squeeze.

  “Mom—”

  “Have you girls been up all night partying, too?”

  “No. We’re working.”

  “Well, I guess that explains your appearance. These things matter, Frankie! You don’t want to let yourself go, honey. You are never going to attract a man looking as if you raided a charity store. I could transform you if you’d let me. Underneath that shaggy hair and those baggy clothes—” Gina waved a manicured hand and the bangles on her wrist jangled “—you have the same body shape as me. You could look like me if you tried harder.”

  Horrified, Frankie backed away. She’d spent her life trying hard not to look, or be, anything like her mother. “I like the way I am.”

  “You could be pretty. Don’t you think she could be pretty, Dev?”

  To his credit, Dev had more sense than to answer that.

  “It’s good to see you, Mrs. Cole,” Paige intervened, “but I hope you’ll excuse us now. We’re choosing flowers for an event and we’re on a deadline.”

  “What event? I found out this week that Star Events laid off a bunch of staff. You lost your job over two months ago and you didn’t even tell me? I’m your mother. I was worried about you.”

  Frankie was thrown. Her mother never worried about her. If anything, it was the other way around. “That’s why you’ve been calling so often?”

  “Of course. I wanted to tell you you’re better off without them. The hours they made you work. Inhuman. Not getting enough rest is bad for your skin and no one is going to fall in love with you if you’re looking old and ugly. Don’t worry about the money. Dev could give you a loan. He’s in banking.” She snuggled closer to Dev and patted his arm. “Only twenty-nine and already on his way to the top, can you believe that? Right now I’m his favorite way of spending money. Fortunately, he’s nothing like your father. Lord, that man was miserly. I expected him to charge me rent just for sitting on my own sofa. That’s one of the advantages of dating much younger men. They know how to live in the moment. He lives very close to here, by the way.”

  Frankie felt the color drain from her cheeks. “My father?”

  “No! That man is so lily-livered he hasn’t been in touch since the day he walked out, you know that!” Her laugh was high-pitched. “I’m talking about Dev!”

  “You should go, Mom. If you haven’t been to bed yet, you must be tired.”

  “I didn’t say we hadn’t been to bed. I said we hadn’t been to sleep.” Gina gave Dev a playful nudge. “This man is an animal I tell you. He exhausts even me, and I have more stamina than most. That’s another reason I love younger men. You have no idea how many times he can—”

  “Mom!” Frankie barked out the word, mortified. Heads around her turned in curiosity and she was transported back to her teenage years when it had felt as if everyone was staring at her. “We don’t need details.”

  She’d grown up with details. They were scarred into her brain.

  Would she have had fewer issues if her mother hadn’t been so free with the details?

  “How I ever raised such a prude I will never know. You need to loosen up. People say it’s impossible to meet a man in Manhattan, but I say they’re looking in the wrong place.”

  “Mom—”

  “Use it or lose it. Who was it
who said that? I can’t remember.” Gina Cole frowned, until she remembered that frowning was bad for her and quickly smoothed her forehead with her fingers. “If you need money or a place to stay—”

  “I don’t. I make my own money and I have my own place.”

  And she had her own issues, personal to her.

  Thanks, Mom.

  “Of course you do! Owned by Paige’s handsome brother.” Gina winked and stepped closer to Frankie. “Now that’s a man with brains, looks and money. Matt is that irresistible combination of smart and sexy. I read a feature on him the other day. He was wearing a tool belt and making a seat out of a log. Those abs. I swear I—”

  “Please, Mom!”

  “Please what? Oh, don’t worry about Dev. He’s not the jealous type.”

  Shame spread over her like a rash, not least because she’d had the same thoughts herself and the idea of having anything in common with her mother was horrifying. And mingled in with the shame was anger that her mother could contaminate a relationship that was precious to her. What if she said something similar to Matt? Frankie would die. It had been the same growing up. The embarrassment and shame had clung to her like a cloak, visible to everyone who looked. Like mother, like daughter.

  “We have to go. We’re working.”

  “So you got another job?”

  “That’s right. And I need to do it right now. Have a good day, Mom.” Frankie started to walk away, nausea churning in her stomach.

  “Wait! When are you going to invite us around? We’re family, Frankie.”

  Frankie paused, wishing the burning in her gut would ease and trying not to imagine the horror of her mother bumping into Matt. What if she said something embarrassing? Or worse. What if she flirted?

  This was the reality of family and it wasn’t the cozy, comforting thing Eva fantasized about. It was like opening a bag expecting to find sugar, only to discover that someone had substituted salt.

  “I have a lot going on right now.”

  “It’s been ages. And how is dear, sweet Eva? Still missing her grandmother? We should go out together one night. All the girls together. It would be fun. Call me to arrange it and for goodness’ sake throw away those hideous glasses and get yourself contacts. No man is going to want to sleep with you in those. See you soon!” She walked away and Frankie sagged against the wall.

  “What is wrong with her? She invented inappropriate. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  “All of it. For her tactless remarks about your health, for spouting the lurid details of her sex life around the flower market and for saying those things about Matt. I want to die, but then she’d take charge of my body and do something unspeakable with it.”

  “You don’t have to apologize.” Paige slid her arm through her friend’s. “You’re not responsible for your mother.”

  “I feel responsible.”

  “Why? None of it is your fault.”

  Wasn’t it? Frankie felt the familiar gnawing of guilt in the pit of her stomach. The truth was she felt responsible and always had.

  When it had first happened she’d discovered that guilt could be so big it could swallow a person whole. She’d been paralyzed by indecision, not knowing what to do for the best. The only thing she’d been sure of was that she didn’t want to inflict her problems on anyone else.

  Gradually, the guilt had faded, like a terrible wound that eventually heals but never quite goes away.

  She went weeks, months even, when she never thought about it. And when she did think about it, usually in the dark hours of the night, she kept it to herself.

  It wasn’t something she ever intended to share. Not even with her closest friends. The time for that was long past.

  “Can you imagine if Matt had overheard that? I’d definitely have to move to Seattle. And I hate the way she calls us girls as if we’re all eight years old. I don’t think a woman of fifty-three should call herself a girl. There’s something undignified about it. Or delusional. I’m not sure which.” Struggling with emotion, she dived back into the store and rubbed her hand over her cheek. Her eyes and throat burned. “I can’t bear it. Another rich guy the same age as me. And why don’t these men ever say no?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s not your problem.” Paige rubbed her arm gently, her voice warm with sympathy. “I’m sorry we bumped into her.”

  “So am I. All she ever talks about is sex. She loves embarrassing me.”

  “I don’t think she’s thinking about you at all. She’s thinking about herself.”

  “Let’s change the subject. Talk about something. Anything.” Frankie focused on the bright blooms. Flowers always calmed her. Nature was never embarrassing. “Talk about you. Please. Or work. Work is good. As long as it’s not weddings.”

  “Did I tell you we won that piece of business for New York fashion week? They emailed me late last night.”

  “That’s a real coup. The event is in September?” Frankie made a huge effort to push her mother out of her head. Use it or lose it, she’d said.

  Frankie had lost it. She’d definitely lost it.

  “Yes. It will be our biggest event yet, so that’s a piece of good news.”

  “That is good news.” Her heart was beginning to slow. The awful burning humiliation receded, but still the words remained. Use it or lose it. The phrase was buried in her head like a tick burrowed into an animal’s fur. What was the rule when you’d never really had it? How could you use something you didn’t know what to do with? Other women her age were generally sexually experienced. Frankie’s experience boiled down to a few awkward embarrassing encounters from which she’d been relieved to walk away. And the detail of those was something else she’d never shared with anyone. “How are things with Jake?”

  “Good. He’s pressing me to move in with him.”

  “Oh.” The four of them had lived together in the brownstone for a long time. Frankie realized she hadn’t given any thought to that changing. “How do you feel about that?”

  “Mixed feelings. I love being with Jake and his apartment is spectacular, but I love Brooklyn, too.” Paige hesitated. “And I’m worried about Eva.”

  “Me, too. She was pretty emotional at that bridal shower the other day. But she’s doing better than she was at Christmas.”

  “She puts on a brave face, but she misses her grandmother horribly. She pushes through the day, but she still cries at night sometimes. I hear her.” Paige stood back to allow someone carrying a large plant to pass them. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to have no family at all. Eva told me the other night that she feels like a boat that slipped its moorings. She’s bobbing in the sea alone.”

  Frankie felt a flash of guilt. “Now I feel terrible for complaining about my mother.”

  “Don’t. Your mother makes everything worse, not better.”

  “But at least I’m connected to someone. What do we do about Eva?”

  “I wish she’d meet someone. And before you frown, I know relationships aren’t everything, but I think that’s what she needs. She needs to find someone who appreciates how special she is. She needs a family of her own.”

  “I wouldn’t want her to meet anyone right now. She’s vulnerable. What happens when it all goes wrong? She couldn’t take the heartache.” The thought of Eva hurt made her own chest ache. “She’s so trusting.”

  “Not all relationships end in heartache, Frankie.”

  “Plenty do, and it would break Eva. What if she falls in love and the guy turns out to be a lying cheating piece of—” Anger rushed through her. “I’d kill him.”

  “He could turn out to be decent, honest and the best thing that happened to her.”

  “In which case I might not kill him. But I’ve never in my life met a guy that would be good enough for Eva.” She hesitated. “Except maybe Matt.”

  “Matt? My brother Matt?”

  “Why not? They’re great friends. They’re always laug
hing and teasing each other.” Maybe that was the answer. If Matt were with Eva, she’d stop thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.

  “They’re friends but there’s no chemistry between them.”

  “He’s smoking hot and she’s beyond gorgeous. What more do you want?”

  “You think my brother is smoking hot?” Paige looked at her curiously and Frankie wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “I have eyes, don’t I? All I’m saying is that I think those two would be good together and if it was Matt with Eva then I wouldn’t have to kill him. I know he’d be good to her.”

  Paige’s expression turned from curious to thoughtful. “They’d kill each other. She’d make him watch romantic movies and he’d turn to drink. No, I’d pick someone different for him. And anyway, Eva would never tolerate Claws, and Matt wouldn’t part with the cat so that’s their first major argument right there. She’ll find someone and, in the meantime, she has us. Thank goodness for friendship.”

  Frankie didn’t disagree. Without her friends she never would have survived the difficult parts of her life. “I’ll stay with Eva the nights you’re at Jake’s.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “I don’t want her to be on her own and miserable.”

  “That’s good of you, but there’s a flaw in that plan.”

  “Which is?”

  “She’d know you were only doing it for her.”

  “Isn’t that what friendship is? Doing something for someone you care about?”

  “Yes, but she’d be mortified if she knew I’d heard her crying and even more mortified if she knew I’d told you. She thinks she should be over losing her grandmother by now.”

  “That’s crap. You don’t ever get over something like that. The best you can hope for is to learn to live alongside it.”

  “I know. Let’s see how we go. In the meantime, I’ll carry on doing what I’m doing, dividing the week up. Maybe you can find reasons to look in on her the nights I’m not there. You don’t need to stay. So what else do you need to buy here?” Paige paused by another display. “Those pale pink roses are gorgeous.”

  “No pastels. I want strong colors. Vibrant. Energetic. Electric. Futuristic. A fusion of color and scents.” She dug the list she’d made out of her bag and scanned it, anxious to do something that might stop her thinking about her mother.

 

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