Sleepless in Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 1)

“I do that all the time! I’ve brought in nine new clients in the last six months and increased revenue by—”

“We don’t need to talk numbers—we need to talk principles. We’ve established you’re great at your job and that you don’t need support, so the only reason holding you back is the fact that you’re scared of the unknown. It’s easier to play it safe and do what you’ve always done, but you worked for the bitch from hell, Paige, who took all the credit for your hard work. Why would you want to carry on like that?”

“The next person I work for might be different.”

“The only way you’ll be sure of that is if that person is you. Think about it. Cynthia was a sociopath. You don’t have to work with her again. Seems like an opportunity from where I’m sitting.” His voice was rough and sexy, as if he’d had a long night of kissing and hot sex.

Which, knowing Jake, he probably had.

The thought bothered her more than it should have done, as did the hot, restless feeling she got whenever she looked at him. Eva would have said that made her human because Jake Romano was just about the sexiest man on the planet, but she would have preferred to be immune.

There was something humiliating about being attracted to someone who’d made it clear he wasn’t attracted to you. She wanted her body to have more sense.

“You’re accusing me of being a coward.”

“Being scared doesn’t make you a coward. It makes you human.” Calm, Jake put the champagne down. “Pick up a glass. It’s time for plan B, honey.”

“I don’t have a plan B. And don’t call me honey.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not your honey.” But she’d wanted to be. Once, she’d desperately wanted to be.

“I meant,” he said slowly, “why don’t you have a plan B?”

“Oh.” Embarrassment burned through her like acid on metal. Being around him made her feel like a gawky, clumsy teenager, all hormones and no finesse. “I’ve told you. I didn’t think I needed one. I was focused on promotion. Do you have a plan B?”

“Always.” Their eyes locked. “You need to relax. You’re too controlling. You plan every step of your life, but sometimes you have to let life happen. Change is always unsettling, sometimes scary, but you have to let go. Take a risk. Risk can be fun.”

His careless dismissal of her anxiety irritated her as much as his pity would have annoyed her.

“That’s easy for you to say with millions in the bank, more work than you can handle and an apartment to die for. Some of us still have rent to pay.” It was a crass, stupid thing to say and she instantly regretted it, especially since she knew her response was driven by frustration about her feelings for him as much as anything else.

“How do you think those millions got there, Paige?” He didn’t bother masking his irritation. “You think I woke up one morning and found myself wealthy? You think I logged on and discovered someone had transferred several million into my bank account? I built my company through hard work, graft and determination. And I pay my own rent. I always have.”

There was a loud noise as Frankie dropped a pot

on the terrace. It shattered, sending pieces flying.

Matt nudged Claws off his lap and stood up. “Those pieces are sharp. Don’t cut yourself, Frankie.”

“I’m fine.” Frankie kept her head down and scooped up the pieces while Matt watched her steadily.

“Is this about the rent?” Matt asked. “Because you don’t have to worry about that. You can pay me when you’re back on your feet.”

A flush spread across Frankie’s cheeks, clashing with her vivid hair. “I can pay my rent.” Her voice was fierce. “I don’t ever need a man to pay my rent.”

Paige knew she was thinking of her mother and presumably so did Matt because he paused for a moment, and then spoke carefully.

“I’m not offering to pay your rent. I just wanted you to know that there is no hurry for payment. Anytime is fine. Wait until you have a job again. It’s a loan.”

“I don’t need a loan. I can pay my way.” Frankie scooped the shards of pottery into a bag, and then must have realized how ungrateful she sounded because her shoulders sagged. “Look—”

“You don’t have to explain.” Matt spoke quietly. “I understand.”

Paige saw the brief flash of misery on Frankie’s face and realized that it was precisely because her brother understood that Frankie was so mortified.

Everyone who had known Frankie growing up knew the lurid details about her mother.