Sunset In Central Park (12 page)

“The conversation where I asked you to have dinner with me and you somehow turned that into having really bad sex and losing your apartment?” There was a gleam in his
eyes. “That sounds like a hell of an evening. I’m not surprised you said no.”

“Good. So in that case—”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“What? I thought you agreed—”

“I agreed that the date you described sounds less than appealing, but that’s not the evening we’ll be having. Do I find you attractive? Yes. Would I like to have sex with you? Yes to that, too. Am I inviting you to dinner but secretly intending that dinner turns into sex? No, because I’m not fifteen, Frankie. Believe it or not, I’m capable of thought and actions that aren’t driven by my hormones and I can go on a date with a woman without having to sleep with her.”

“I don’t want to go on a date. Don’t use that word.”

“Fine. It’s not a date, it’s dinner with a friend.” He stepped back from her. “I’ll see you at seven.”

Dinner with a friend? She gaped at him. “Well, I—”

But she was talking to herself because he’d gone.

“S
o you’re having dinner,” Eva said carefully, “but it’s not a date.”

“That’s right. I tried to put him off but it didn’t work and now I’m stuck. I should have just kissed him! That would have sent him running.” Frankie threw all her clothes on the bed. She was shivery with nerves. She hadn’t eaten a thing since breakfast. Which was ridiculous, because this was Matt. Matt, whom she’d known forever. Except the version of Matt she’d known forever wasn’t the one who had been looking down at her with those lazy blue eyes and that sexy smile. “What do I wear? You know about this stuff. It’s your superpower.”

“I need more information. If it’s not a date, what is it?”

“I don’t know! We both need to eat, that’s all.” Except that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to eat anything at all. Her
stomach was so full of butterflies there was no room for anything else. “Can’t two people have dinner without dissecting meaning and motivation?”

“Of course they can,” Eva soothed. “We’ll call it a—nondate.”

A nondate.

Frankie stared at the clothes on her bed in despair. “I want to look good. I don’t want to embarrass him. But it’s important that I send out the right message.”

“What message is that? I’m confused.”

She was confused, too. “That we’re just friends. This isn’t a relationship or anything.”

“You and Matt already have a relationship. A lovely relationship.”

“We do.” Frankie’s knees were shaking and she gave up and sat down on the bed. She was terrified, but underneath the panic was a ripple of something else. Something more dangerous. Excitement. Anticipation.
Matt.
“We do have a good relationship, so why are we messing with that? What are we doing?” She gave a moan and sank back into the pile of clothes. “You have to tell him I’m sick.”

“I’m not telling him that. Get up. I can’t see your clothes if you’re lying on them.” Eva dragged her up again.

“I don’t own anything suitable. I spend my days wrestling with rosebushes. When I see clients I wear my white shirt and my black pants. I spend my evenings in sweats and a T-shirt.”

“We already know he likes you in those. He likes you whatever you’re wearing.”

She knew that was true. She’d seen the way he looked at her. And the way he looked at her made her feel … feel …

“I can’t wear sweats and a T-shirt to dinner.”

“Where is he taking you?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t tell me.” Or maybe he had and she’d blocked it out. She’d heard nothing after the words
I’ll see you at seven.
She’d tried to tell him that no, that wasn’t going to happen, but by the time she’d found her voice he’d already walked away, and then James had arrived to pick up another load of materials and after that there was no opportunity.

“It’s not helpful that he didn’t tell you,” Eva said. “If you’ve been asked on a date then it’s only fair to know what to expect.” She caught Frankie’s eye and gave a weak smile. “Except that this isn’t a date, so those rules don’t apply. Wear anything.”

“What does
anything
look like? This is why I hate dating. If it was just a couple of hours I could stand it, but the stress starts hours before the actual date.”

“Calm down. This is Matt. You don’t need to be scared—”

“I am scared! Everyone is scared of something, right? Heights? No problem. Dangle me off the edge of the Empire State Building and I wouldn’t break off the conversation. Rats? Cute, especially their tails. Spiders? Hand me a large hairy one and I’d be totally cool.”

Eva paled. “Do you honestly think I’d hand you a spider of any sort?”

“Figure of speech. I was talking about me. My phobias. It’s dating, by the way. That’s my phobia.”

“That’s because you’ve only dated losers, but Matt is different. You need to calm down or you’ll be in a state by the time you leave.”

It was because Matt was different that she was in a state. “I don’t know what to wear.”

“Wear a dress.”

“I don’t own a dress of any sort. I haven’t worn one since that arrogant ball-brain put his hand up my skirt at prom. He said, ‘It’s time you lost your virginity,’ and I said, ‘I feel the same way about your hand.’ They had to ice his wrist.”

“I know. I was there. And that whole incident was hideous, but it was a long time ago, Frankie.”

“He was the beginning of a long line of dating disasters.” She stood up, knowing she was being unfair. She was expecting her friend to understand, but she hadn’t given her all the information, had she? She’d never told her about the D minus. She’d never told anyone. Except Matt.

Matt knew.

She gave a moan and covered her face with her hands. “Why don’t you go instead of me?”

“Because Matt didn’t ask me, and also I’m busy tonight.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m having a cozy night in on my own.” Eva’s tone was bright and Frankie looked at her, her own problems receding.

“Paige is out with Jake?”

“He got tickets to some premiere uptown. Lucky them. And don’t look at me like that. I’ll be fine. I’m looking forward to being on my own.”

“Liar.”

“Okay, maybe I’m not exactly looking forward to it but it’s good for me to get used to being on my own.”

Frankie felt something squeeze inside her. “Are you feeling sad?”

Eva gave a wobbly smile. “Every now and then, but I’m doing fine so you don’t need to worry.”

“You should go out with Matt. That way I don’t get the stress and you don’t have to sit on your own brooding. It’s the perfect solution.”

“It’s not the perfect solution. He asked you, not me.”

“You two would be perfect together. Him with all his strong family values and you with the whole Cinderella thing.”

“What Cinderella thing? You want me to wear rags and clean his apartment?”

“No, but you both believe in love. You’d be a perfect couple.”

“Except for one major drawback—I’m not interested in Matt that way, and Matt isn’t interested in me. He’s interested in you.” Eva turned back to the clothes, rejecting two pairs of black yoga pants. “I agree these are slim pickings. Are you sure I can’t persuade you to borrow one of my dresses?”

“No, thanks. No offense, but your dresses all have ‘take me’ written all over them.”

“In that case I wish someone would pay attention. Okay. No dress. Move over so I can take a better look at what we’re working with.” She rifled through the clothes on Frankie’s bed and fished out a pair of emerald-green leggings. “These might work. They’re pretty. When did you buy them?”

“I didn’t. You and Paige bought them for me when you had that day in Bloomingdale’s.”

“I remember. That was a great day. I never see you in them. Don’t you like them?”

“I like them,” Frankie conceded, “but I don’t want to ruin them by wearing them.”

“They’re supposed to be worn.”

“I never know what to wear them with.”

“I have a beautiful silk tunic that would look perfect. And a matching purse. I’ll fetch them in a moment, but first show me your shoes. I don’t want to make two journeys.”

Frankie pulled out two pairs of running shoes, several pairs of Converse, three pairs of sturdy boots and two pairs of flats.
Eva rejected them all. “Don’t you have anything with a heel?”

“My last pair of heels snapped when I got them caught in that grill on Fifth Avenue.”

“We’re the same size. I’ll lend you something.”

“I don’t want to wear heels. I love my flats. I like being able to walk.”

“Heels give you an excuse to hold his arm—” Eva caught her eye again “—which obviously you don’t want to do,” she said hastily, “so you might as well wear flats. Great idea.”

“None of this is a great idea. What are we going to talk about?”

“The same things you talk about when we’re all there.” Eva carried on sorting through Frankie’s clothes. “Plants, roof terraces, Claws, crazy cab drivers, the volume of construction in Manhattan—the choice of subject matter is endless. What
is
this?” She held up an old gray T-shirt with a hole in the shoulder and Frankie shrugged.

“I know it’s old but it doesn’t matter because I wear it to bed.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Eva started a pile on the floor for disposal.

“I live on my own. Who cares what I wear to bed?”

“I care. I won’t be able to sleep upstairs, thinking of you down here wearing that.”

“I love you, but there are times when I think you’re very strange.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Eva added another T-shirt to the pile on the floor. “What if there’s a fire in the night? A hot fireman might come and rescue you and you’ll be wearing this ugly gray thing.”

“If there was a fire in the night I hope the fireman would
be thinking about the two of us not burning to death, rather than judging my fashion choices.”

“This was a choice?” Eva tossed another T-shirt on the growing pile. “Your wardrobe is an abomination. It’s no wonder you don’t know what to wear to dinner with Matt. There’s nothing here.”

The reminder of dinner brought the gnawing feeling back to Frankie’s stomach. “I don’t know why he wants to do this.”

“Because he likes you,” Eva said patiently, “and he wants to spend time with you.”

“I should have kissed him. That would have ended it there and then.”

“If he asks you on a second date you can still try that.” Eva reached out and wound one of Frankie’s curls around her finger. “You have truly beautiful hair. I don’t suppose you’d let me—”

“No.”

“But you don’t know what I—”

“Still no.”

Eva sighed and let her hand drop. “How about just a tiny glimmer of lip gloss? Just to emphasize your mouth.”

“I don’t want to emphasize my mouth or any other part of myself. I’m having dinner and it ends there.” Because if it didn’t end there that would mean—

She swallowed and met Eva’s gaze.

“Stop it!” Eva stood up. “You need to stop dissecting everything and get ready. Go and have a shower and I’ll fetch the tunic.” She walked to the door and then paused, a wistful look on her face. “I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe the two of you are finally going on a date.”

“It’s not a date!”

“Of course it isn’t,” Eva soothed. “All I meant was, I hope you have an amazing time on your—er—dinner that’s not a date. Nondate. It’s a nondate.”

“So what’s happening?” Paige was eating a slice of toast with one hand and scrolling through her emails with the other. “Where are you going with your favorite tunic?”

“I’m lending it to Frankie. She has a date with Matt.” Eva danced around the room, humming to herself. “But don’t call it that or you’ll freak her out. They’re on a
nondate,
which is a whole new way of dating for people who are freaked out by dating. Which is basically Frankie.”

Paige finished her toast. “A nondate. Sounds interesting. So what happens if they have a good time?”

“I don’t know.” Eva shrugged. “I guess they go on a second nondate and before they know it they’re nondating on a regular basis. Maybe there will even be a nonengagement and a nonwedding. As long as the cake is real, that’s all I care about.”

Paige raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think you’re jumping ahead slightly?”

“Someone has to. Frankie has been stuck in the same place emotionally for far too long. And she’s been stuck in the same place with her wardrobe, too. This has to end. I’m going to quietly slip a few things into her apartment and hope she doesn’t notice.” Eva frowned. “I hope Matt just grabs her and kisses her.”

“Stopping you right there.” Paige raised a hand. “I don’t want to think about my brother kissing.”

“I bet he’s an amazing kisser.”

“No! Don’t want to think about it. Go. Give Frankie the
tunic.” Paige picked up her phone. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay with Jake tonight?”

“Mind? Why would I mind? I’m not your mother.” Eva adopted a serious face. “I hope you’re using protection, Paige, and making good choices.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I know what you meant. You’re worried I’m going to sit in a sodden heap all night, but I promise I’m not.”

“I don’t like leaving you.”

“Please! Am I twelve years old? I’m looking forward to having some ‘me’ time. I’m going to give myself a beauty pampering and have a Netflix marathon. Bliss.”

Paige gave her a long look. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. You don’t have to watch over me. It’s true that sometimes I’m sad, but that’s to be expected. I lost the only family I have and I miss her horribly. Sometimes life sucks. We all know that. I know you and Frankie both think I’m marshmallow, but I’m pretty resilient.”

“I know you are.” Paige gave her a hug. “And you’re not alone. We’re your family, too.”

“I know, but tonight I don’t need a babysitter. Go and fan the flames with Jake. But not so many flames you need the fire department. I’m still getting over the shock of seeing what Frankie wears to bed.” Patting her on the shoulder, Eva pulled away. “I have serious work to do. I need to make sure our Frankie doesn’t bolt the door and refuse to go on this date.”

“That isn’t going to happen.”

“You didn’t see her. She was close to having a panic attack.”

“Matt will handle her. And by the way, I’m making excellent choices, even though I may not choose to disclose all of them to my mother.”