Sunset In Central Park (6 page)

“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 over 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.

“You’ll need the keys to Matt’s apartment.” Paige rummaged in her bag and pulled them out. “Here. Good luck.”

“I’m feeding the cat. I need cat food, not luck.” Frankie dropped the keys into her purse. “How hard can it be?”

Eva opened her mouth and then caught Paige’s eye and closed it again. “I’m not saying a word. But if I were you I’d take a weapon along with the cat food. And wear armor.”

“I always wear armor.”

But now she’d lost a layer.

Her glasses.

Tired and hot after a day when too much of it had been spent outside in sweltering heat, Matt let himself into his apartment and paused as he heard voices.

He lived alone.

There weren’t supposed to be voices.

He walked into his kitchen and stopped. His intruder was on all fours under the table. All he could see was a perfectly curved bottom in faded denim, but he would have known that bottom anywhere.

He admired it for a moment, but decided that this time he’d hold the compliment.

Instead, he cleared his throat.

Frankie banged her head on the table and swore. She emerged gingerly, glasses awry, rubbing her head with her fingers. “What are you doing here?” She pushed her glasses up her nose, as if challenging him to comment.

He said nothing, but felt a flash of disappointment that she still felt the need to wear them in front of him.

“This is my apartment. I live here.”

“How long have you been standing there?”

“A while.” Or maybe he wouldn’t hold the compliment. It was bad to hold things in, wasn’t it? “Long enough to admire your butt.”

Confusion clouded her eyes. “Instead of staring at my butt, you should be dealing with your pet. Your cat has issues.”

Not only my cat,
he thought. “I wouldn’t argue with that.”

“She was happy enough to eat my food on Saturday, but apparently she needs to be the one who decides where she eats. She wasn’t impressed that I was the one that put food in her bowl.”

“She’s giving you problems?”

“Nothing a therapist couldn’t sort out given a couple of years.” She pushed her hair back from her face and he reached forward and gently removed her glasses.

“You don’t need to wear those when you’re with me.”

“Matt—” She made a wild grab for them but he folded them up and slid them into his pocket.

“What do you think they do, Frankie? Cover up the fact you have pretty eyes?” They were a washed shade of green and they reminded him of a Scottish hillside or an English garden after a shower of rain. She looked so disconcerted he wanted to hug her. “You need to stop hiding.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“You’re hiding. But you don’t ever need to hide from me.” Knowing that he’d pushed her enough for the time being, he turned and put his laptop on the table. “Thanks for feeding Claws. That’s twice in one week. I owe you for the favor, plus extra for danger money.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” She was balanced on her toes, poised to run, and he decided that the best way to get her to relax was to talk about work.

“I spent the morning trying to find a horticultural specialist who can step in and replace Victoria. Do you have time to take a look at the plans? I’d love to hear your thoughts.” He was banking on the fact that Frankie was too passionate about her job not to be intrigued by the project that was currently occupying his every waking moment, and he was right.

“Sure.” The wary expression on her face faded. “Tell me about the project. What was the brief?”

“Architectural style with sustainability. It’s a multifunctional space. General living, family time, some corporate entertainment. They have a social conscience. Green roofs reduce heating and cooling costs. They’re reducing their carbon footprint. Everybody wins, including me.”

“It’s not winning if it gives you a nervous breakdown.
Couldn’t Victoria have stayed another few weeks to give you a chance to find someone?”

“Her mother is sick. That has to be her priority. I understand that. Maybe I’m more sympathetic to that than most because of Paige.” He didn’t elaborate. He didn’t need to. Frankie knew all about the health issues his sister had suffered growing up. “It will work out.” He’d learned early on what mattered in life, taught himself to fix what he could fix and find a way to live with what he couldn’t.

“I made a few calls today.” Her tone was casual. “People I know whose skills are perfect for you. Most of them are busy. One of them will be free in October.”

Knowing how busy they were at Urban Genie, he was touched. “You did that for me?”

“You need help.” She dismissed it as nothing but he knew it wasn’t nothing. She’d taken time out of a horrendously busy schedule to try and help him.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.”

“You’d do the same for us.”

He noticed she chose the word
us
rather than making it more personal.

Frankie, he was realizing, had a big problem with personal. Far bigger than he’d first thought.

“The problem is that October is too late for this project. I need someone who can hit the ground running, who knows how I think and who has the same creative vision.”

“And where are you going to find someone like that?”

“I’m looking at her.”

Those green eyes widened. “You mean me?”

“I saw your expression when I described the project—admit it, you’re interested.”

“It’s true that roof gardens have their own charms and
challenges but I have a job. Urban Genie is in its infancy and—”

“And you already told me you have a few too many wedding events this summer. You hate them. Delegate those to someone else and come and work with me.” He handed her the plans and saw the panic and indecision in her eyes.

“I can’t.”

“Take a look at the plans and think about it. Talk to Paige and Eva. It’s not as if I’m asking you to relocate to Alaska. You can still help with Urban Genie. Just reduce your hands-on work for now. What’s the name of that supplier you’ve been working with?”

“Buds and Blooms.”

“You’d be giving them an opportunity to grow their business, you’d be helping me and you’d be doing work you love. Let someone else deal with the froth of weddings. Design me a roof garden. At least think about it. It’s only for the summer. One project.” His gaze caught on a piece of paper on the table. “What’s that? You wrote me a note?”

She made a strangled sound and scrabbled for the paper. “You can’t read it!”

“You wrote me a note I’m not supposed to read?”

“I assumed I’d be gone by the time you read it.” She snatched it from the table, cheeks scarlet.

“Aren’t you going to at least tell me what it says?”

“I was apologizing for Saturday, that’s all.” She was adorably flustered and Matt resisted the urge to take the note from her fingers.

“Why would you feel the need to apologize?”

“Hey, I don’t know. Maybe because I almost trapped your hand in the door two seconds before I shut you out of your
own apartment.” She shoved the paper into the pocket of her jeans and shot toward the door.

“It’s your apartment.” This time he was determined not to let her leave without finishing the conversation. “You live there.”

“But you own it.”

“I made you feel uncomfortable.”

“It’s not you, it’s me. It’s all me.”

They reached the door at the same time.

“Wait.” He planted his hand in the center of the door panel to prevent her leaving and saw her freeze.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to say something and I want to do it without worrying about you severing one of my limbs in the door.” He could have stepped back but he didn’t. If what it took to get her to open up to him was to invade her comfort zone, then he’d invade it. But he’d try and invade it as sensitively as possible.

“Look, I know you think it’s strange that I’d wear glasses when I don’t need them but—”

“You don’t have to explain.”

“I do. You’re wondering why on earth anyone would do something that weird.” She’d dipped her head and all he could see was the sweep of her dark lashes and the delicate freckles that dusted her nose like pollen.

“I’m not wondering that because I already know the answer.”

“You do?”

“You think it puts a barrier between yourself and the world. Or rather, men.” The temptation to touch her was almost overwhelming. “What I don’t understand is why you’re so upset that I know.”

“Because it’s a deeply personal thing.”

“That’s what a relationship is, Frankie. It’s about knowing the deeply personal things that other people don’t see. We’ve known each other a long time.”

“And there’s such a thing as ‘too much information.’” If she pressed any closer to the door she would leave an imprint.

“It’s called intimacy, Frankie. It’s what happens when two people know each other well. And for the record, I don’t think it’s weird.”

Finally, she looked at him. “You don’t?”

“No. But as we’re being honest with each other, it’s only fair to tell you that you’re wasting your time.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have beautiful eyes, and they’re beautiful with or without the glasses. And to save you examining that comment in minute detail I can tell you that yes, it was a compliment.” He removed his arm and opened the door, gently nudging her through it. “Have a think about working with me and thanks again for feeding my cat.”

Reining in his protective instincts, he closed the door before he could do something inappropriate like haul her into his arms.

There was plenty of time for that.

This was only step one.

It wasn’t as if they weren’t going to see each other again. And at some point she was going to realize that he still had her glasses.

B
eautiful eyes?

He thought she had beautiful eyes?

Frankie wandered through Manhattan’s flower market in a daze that had nothing to do with the early start or the fact she hadn’t slept.

“I love this place.” Paige slipped her arm through Frankie’s. “It’s calming, isn’t it?”

“What is?” Frankie wasn’t concentrating. She couldn’t stop thinking about the moment she’d been trapped between Matt and the door. He hadn’t actually touched her, but he might as well have because she’d been so agonizingly aware of him it had been almost impossible to breathe. The avalanche of unfamiliar feelings had come as a shock. It wasn’t as if she was the kind of person who thought about sex all the time. Hardly ever, in fact. She’d accepted that it didn’t
play an important role in her life, and even though she was intelligent enough to know that at least part of the reason for that lay with her parents, she hadn’t ever considered that it might change.

But it was changing. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Matt was changing it. He hadn’t touched her, but she’d found herself wanting to touch him. She’d wanted to grab him and kiss him, an impulse that had left her more than a little freaked out. Fortunately, she’d managed to stop herself, but what she hadn’t been able to stop was the strange feeling inside her, the almost breathless excitement that she associated with Christmas Eve and the last day of school. Being close to him seemed to flick a switch in a part of her she’d never accessed before. And she had to remind herself to breathe, something she’d managed to do without prompting up until this point in her life.

Paige elbowed her. “You’re not listening to me. You need strong coffee.” She dragged her into the small coffee shop and ordered two espressos. “This will wake you up.”

Frankie didn’t tell her that her problem wasn’t going to be solved by coffee.

She wasn’t sure how to solve it. Two cold showers hadn’t worked.

They drank the coffee and Paige talked about new clients while Frankie tried to forget the hard strength of Matt’s body against hers and focus on business.

Boosted by caffeine, they tackled the flower market. Nestled between Seventh Avenue and Broadway, the market was a hidden jungle of plants surrounded by soaring tower blocks of glass and steel. It was five o’clock in the morning but despite the early hour, the place was bustling with people.

They went into one of the many stores and Frankie leaned forward and stuck her nose in a bunch of blooms. “These are perfect.” She picked a large bunch and stashed it on a metal shelf to buy later, before carefully selecting another bunch.

“They’re pretty. So did you speak to Matt?”

Frankie almost dropped the flowers. How could just hearing his name make her clumsy? She was like a teenager in the throes of her first major crush. Except that she’d never felt this way when she was a teenager. “I wrote him a note, but then he showed up while I was feeding Claws and I scrunched it up because I’m a coward.”

“He didn’t say anything?”

“He said a couple of things.” Unsettling things. Things that had danced around her brain and kept her awake when she should have been sleeping.

You have beautiful eyes.

She’d been so taken aback by the compliment, she’d said nothing. Eva would have made a lighthearted remark in response. Paige probably would have done the same.

She’d been mute.

And this morning she’d found her glasses in her mailbox.

She wondered if it was a test to see if she’d put them back on.

Frustrated with herself, she turned her head and stole a surreptitious glance in the mirror that ran along one side of the store. The glasses dominated her face, which had been her plan when she’d chosen them.

Paige leaned over to examine a box of cream roses. “Did he mention work?”

“Work?” Unable to see how anyone could think her eyes were beautiful, Frankie turned back to her friend. “You mean did he tell me about Victoria leaving? Yes. He’s been
trying to recruit someone. After he mentioned it on Saturday night, I called a few people I met on my course at the Botanic Gardens, and people I’ve worked with since then, but so far no luck. I’m still working on it.”

“He wants you to do it.”

Her pulse skipped. “That’s not going to happen.”

“Why not? You love roof gardens! They’re your favorite thing. Why wouldn’t you do it?”

Because forgetting how to breathe for the short time she was currently with him was one thing, but having to remind herself right through an entire working day was something else. What if she forgot and suffocated? And then there was the whole electric-current feeling that she didn’t seem able to switch off. She wasn’t sure she’d survive feeling that way for an entire day. She couldn’t possibly work with him.

And maybe that made her a coward, but better to be a coward than be asphyxiated by longing. Because that was what it was. She might be embarrassingly inexperienced, but she recognized desire.

She imagined the autopsy report: death by sexual frustration.

“We’ve only just started Urban Genie. I can’t go and work for another company.”

“I’m not suggesting you go into partnership with Matt, just help him with this project over the summer.”

“We have two events the week after next.”

“Both of which you’ve already planned. Buds and Blooms has a great team. They did a good job on the Harrison Real Estate event last week. If they have any problems, they can call you.”

It was the same argument Matt had used. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“Because mixing business with personal is never a good thing.”

Paige burst out laughing. “It’s not as if you’re having sex with him!” Laughter was replaced by curiosity. “Are you?”

“No!” But now Paige had mentioned it, Frankie’s brain was crowded with new images. Images of Matt naked, that strong, muscular body intimately entwined with hers. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”

“Possibly because your face is scarlet.”

“That’s because I hate talking about sex in public. I don’t think working with Matt is a good idea, that’s all. I should be focusing my attention on Urban Genie.”

“This isn’t like you. I thought you’d want to help.”

“I did help! I made some calls. I plan on making more later.”

“But why not do it yourself? You’re the sort of person who would do anything for your friends.” Paige hesitated. “If it weren’t for Matt, we’d all be living in a shoe box.”

“You’re playing the guilt card?” And it worked, because she knew that if it wasn’t for all these new, unfamiliar feelings she would have helped Matt in an instant. Not only because it was a way of avoiding all the bridal showers they had booked that summer, but because he was a friend and Paige was right. She would always, always help a friend.

“Is this about the whole glasses thing? Has my brother upset you? Is that why you don’t want to help?”

“No.” Heat spread around the back of her neck. “He’s a great guy. Strong, principled, decent—”
and insanely hot.

And it was the insanely hot part that was stopping her volunteering to help.

Normally she didn’t have any problems around men. It
was simple. She wasn’t interested. But with Matt it was different. With Matt it was—confusing.

Paige touched her arm. “Matt has always looked out for me. He’s always been there for me.”

“I know.” The Walker family loyalty was something she envied. Instead of trying to cause each other maximum stress and embarrassment, they pulled together. It was a family dynamic so far removed from her own experience she barely recognized it.

“It would be good to be able to return the favor for once.”

“Except I’d be the one returning the favor.”

“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.”