“It always seems to cheer you up.” Frankie played it down. “I don’t get it myself, but hey—whatever works for you. Eva and I went through your makeup drawer to try and find a color you didn’t have. Most people
have a bag, by the way. You and Eva are the only people I know who need an entire drawer.”
Touched, Paige opened the bag. “When did you buy this?”
“I was banging on the door of Saks the moment they opened.”
“You hate Saks.”
“Yeah, but I love you.” Frankie’s tone was rough, and Paige felt warmth rush through her.
“You’re the best,” she murmured. “I have the best friends.” She examined the lipstick. “I love it. It’s perfect. And now I feel almost ready to talk to Jake.”
She’d rehearsed the meeting in her mind and knew exactly how she was going to behave when she saw him. He’d be expecting tears. There wouldn’t be tears. He’d be expecting her to be bruised and wounded. She’d be strong. All wounds would be kept firmly on the inside, held together from bleeding with lashings of willpower and female fortitude.
Her priority was to make sure that this hiccup didn’t interfere with their friendship.
That was the most important thing now. More important than her own feelings. Those would heal in time. And if they didn’t heal, she’d learn to live with a little more damage to her heart. Another scar, only this one wouldn’t be visible.
The next time her phone rang it was a client and she took that call and gave it all her attention. And the same for the next one.
She’d get through this, a call at a time. A minute at a time. A day at a time.
And the next call that came thrilled all of them.
Eva rushed into the apartment, her phone in her hand. “Matilda is getting married—she wants us to organize it!”
“She wants us to organize it?” Paige closed the document she was working on. “We’ve never done a wedding.”
“It’s no different to any other event.” Frankie reached for her can of drink. “Food, drink, guests, music, flowers and a big mess to clear up at the end. At least this time it’s for a friend. Of course we can do it. Unless you’d find it difficult?”
“Of course not. Why would I find it difficult?”
“Because she’s getting married and that means romantic mush and Jake will probably be there—”
“And I’ll be too busy to notice the guests. Say yes. Of course we’ll do it.”
Eva went back to the call, congratulated Matilda on behalf of all of them and discussed some top-of-the-line ideas.
“Hamptons? Beach wedding?” Eva’s expression was dreamy. “It will be perfect.”
It was work, Paige told herself, subduing a stab of envy. Work. Another job, which would get her through another day.
After they finished work, she took a shower, pulled on a bright sundress that she hoped would compensate for her mood, used her new lipstick and joined her friends and her brother on the roof terrace.
The sun was setting over Manhattan, sending streaks of gold across towers of shimmering glass and steel.
Matt had the screen ready.
And tequila.
Paige studied the bottles. “Is that what it takes for a man to get through six hours of pure female emotion?”
“That’s what it takes to get a man through twenty minutes of emotion. There’s more downstairs.” He dropped ice into glasses and poured. “What are we drinking to?”
“It’s romance night.” Frankie took the glass from him. “To fairy tales, happy endings and all that shit.”
Eva rolled her eyes. “It’s not an accident that you’re single.”