Sleepless in Manhattan (From Manhattan with Love 1)

“So Jake is Homo plumbeus.”

Paige knew they were trying to make her smile. “From now on I’m making all my own decisions, and they’re going to have to get used to it.”

“Well said. You are Homo decisivus.” Ignoring Frankie’s wince, Eva slid off the bed. “And you can start right now. Popcorn or ice cream? Not that I’m trying to influence you, but I have double chocolate chip, which I may have doctored with a few extra sprinkles of sugary goodness.”

Paige stood up and checked her reflection in Frankie’s mirror. Her eyes were red and mascara lay in dark streaks. “Ice cream. No bowl. Just give me the tub and a spoon.”

“Are you sure?” Eva caught Frankie’s eye and cleared her throat. “Of course you’re sure. You know what you want. Ice cream with spoon coming right up. And if you said you wanted it delivered on a truck, that would be fine, too. I will never question a single decision you make. Frankie?”

“Same. Large tub. Large spoon.”

“You didn’t just lose the love of your life.”

“No but I’m soaking up Paige’s stress. I’m eating vicariously.”

Eva disappeared upstairs to their kitchen and reappeared a few minutes later with ice cream.

They were sitting on Frankie’s bed, spoons in tubs, when Matt walked in.

Frankie choked, slid off the bed and grabbed her glasses from the nightstand. “What are you doing here? I rent this apartment from you, but that doesn’t mean you can walk in when you like.” Her voice was colder than the ice cream. “Right now you are not welcome here. This is a man-free zone.”

Matt didn’t budge. “I need to speak to Paige. Can you give us a minute?”

“No.” Eva stood up, too. For once she wasn’t smiling. “Why do you need to speak to her? Have you made some more decisions about her life that she needs to know about?”

Matt winced. “I deserved that. I came to check my sister is all right, but given that you’re eating ice cream on the bed, I’m guessing she’s not, so I’m not going away, and you’re going to have to live with that.”

Paige felt nothing but exhaustion. “Did you deck him?”

“No. We talked.” He walked over to the chair in the corner of Frankie’s bedroom, cleared off the stack of gardening magazines and sat down. “You have every right to be mad with me, but there are a few things I need to say.”

Frankie folded her arms. “As long as you know that if you make her cry again, I’ll be the one decking you.”

“I’m not going to make her cry.” Matt leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. It was a moment before he spoke. “Right from the moment you were born, Mom and Dad were always telling me ‘take care of your little sister. Watch out for Paige. Keep an eye on her, Matt’—I’m not sure at what point watching over you turned into making decisions for you. I’ve never even questioned it, until tonight.”

Emotion threatened to swamp her. “Don’t, Matt—”

Frankie stirred. “You said you wouldn’t upset her—”

Matt ignored her, his eyes on Paige. “I’m sorry I made decisions for you. I’m sorry I’m such an overprotective jerk you feel you can’t tell me things. Most of all I’m sorry you’re hurt. Will you forgive me?”

His heartfelt apology touched her more deeply than anything he’d said to her before.

She slid off the bed and felt Frankie snatch the ice cream from her a second before her brother stood up and pulled her in for a hug.

“I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

“Don’t apologize.” Matt stroked her hair. “There is no obligation on you to tell me anything. It’s your life. You share the bits you want to share. Make whatever decisions you like, do whatever you like, choose whoever you like. I won’t try and make your decisions for you, but I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.”

Eva gave a quiet sob, and Matt glanced at her over the top of Paige’s head.

“Why are you crying? Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No.” Frankie fiddled with her glasses. “You said the right thing, you idiot. Eva cries at everything—you should know that by now. She makes a marshmallow look robust.”

Paige pulled away and Matt looked down at her. “Am I forgiven?”

“Maybe.” She gave a crooked smile. “If I told you I was about to ride naked over the Brooklyn Bridge on the back of a motorbike, what would you say?”