Sleepless in Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 1)

“I was saying, not only was the sex incredible, but we had fun. We laughed. We talked. We were close. Apart from you two, I’ve never been able to talk to anyone the way I do with Jake.” Frustration rushed through her. “If he walked in now, I’d kill him.”

“Wait—what?” Frankie looked confused. “I thought you loved him.”

“I do. That’s why I want to kill him. For throwing it away. For refusing to see what’s there.”

“What did he say when you walked out? He didn’t try and stop you?”

“He said he’d take me on his motorbike, and while he was arguing that one with Matt, I left.”

Eva curled her legs underneath her and handed Paige the box of tissues. “So there was no finale, as such.”

“The finale is probably still going on.” Paige gave the box back to her. “I don’t want these. I’m all cried out. And you’d better ring your NYPD boyfriend. I suspect there might be two corpses somewhere in a loft in Tribeca.”

“He isn’t my NYPD boyfriend. And I think you’re right that Jake loves you. But he’s scared.”

Frankie frowned at her. “You can sprinkle perfume on manure, but it’s still manure.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Frankie said patiently, “that this whole thing stinks, and you trying to make it smell better won’t change the fact it stinks. It’s a saying. Like one of yours. You can add it to your blog if you like.”

“No thanks.” Eva recoiled. “Not only is it not optimistic, none of my sayings would ever contain the word manure. It’s a food-and-lifestyle blog.”

Frankie carried on, undaunted. “And whether Jake loves Paige or not, if he’s too much of a wimp to act on those feelings, then Paige is better off without him.”

Paige wished she believed that.

Was she better off without him?

Maybe she’d think so, one day.

Right now she couldn’t imagine how she was going to get through the next minute. The next hour.

“I’m angry and I feel horrible, but most of all I miss him and it has only been a few hours.” Sadness seeped through her. “Maybe this was a mistake. It hurts.”

“You were honest about your emotions, and that is never a mistake,” Eva said. “If he doesn’t want to spend the rest of his life with you, then he’s batshit crazy. I know you’re hurting now, but that will fade, and at least you won’t be sitting in your armchair when you’re ninety wondering what might have happened if you’d turned up at his apartment and stripped off all your clothes. Sometimes we just have to go for it. If we left the big decisions to men, the world would stop turning. Think of all the amazing women who didn’t leave things to men—Boudicca, Marie Curie, Lady Gaga—”

Frankie gaped at her. “That’s your list of amazing women?”

“Just off the top of my head.”

“Your head is a weird thing.”

Paige reached for a glass of water, wishing it was something stronger. “What bothers me most is the fact that in the end he was protecting me, too. All those years.”

Frankie straightened the pillow. “I agree—that sucks.”

Eva hesitated. “Actually I don’t think that sucks. I think it’s adorable.”

“Adorable?” Paige rubbed her aching forehead. “How is it adorable to find out that people have been making decisions for you? Decisions you weren’t part of and that you didn’t even know were taking place?”

“That part isn’t adorable, but the sentiment behind it is. They love you, Paige.” Eva reached out and squeezed her leg. “Maybe they didn’t exactly show it in the right way, but they meant well. Where does it ever say that people who love you get it right? They don’t. We all mess up. We’re human. Or Homo sapiens, as Frankie would say. And sometimes Homo sapiens have the common sense of an Ocimum basilicum.” She looked at Frankie triumphantly. “Are you impressed?”

“I’m speechless.”

“What’s the Latin word for stupid?”

“Plumbeus.”