Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

“I was dressed!”

Paige was sending a response to the vice president. “Be grateful she wasn’t eating a banana or that might have qualified as Most Embarrassing Moment.”

Frankie didn’t respond.

Right now when it came to Most Embarrassing Moment, she had the edge.

She’d spent the whole of Sunday reliving the moments that had followed Matt’s discovery that her vision was perfect. Feeling as naked and exposed as a snail that had been extracted from the protection of its shell, she’d virtually pushed him out the door.

Had she even said goodbye?

She couldn’t remember. All she remembered was planting her hand on his chest—a strong chest, very muscular—and giving it a good, hard shove. Of course, Matt being built like a linebacker, he could have resisted if he’d wanted to. He hadn’t. Which either meant he’d been as keen to exit the apartment as she was to see him leave, or that he’d been weakened by the shock of discovering that she was wearing glasses when she didn’t need to, and embarrassing didn’t begin to describe that moment.

Frankie squirmed in her seat.

What must he think of her?

She wanted to slink under the table and never come out again, but that would be about as mature as her reaction when he’d raised the subject on Saturday.

She wished she could put the clock back. There were so many more dignified ways she could have reacted. A light, flirtatious response would have been perfect.

“Did you see Matt yesterday?” She kept her tone casual and Paige glanced up from the screen.

“Briefly. Why?”

“No reason. I wondered if he mentioned anything.” Like the fact that he had a deranged woman living in his apartment. A deranged woman with perfect vision.

“He mentioned he’s overloaded with work. I promised to feed Claws tonight because he’s going to be late. He’s going to owe me big-time for that favor. I might need a bodyguard.”

“I am generally considered to be a people-pleaser and the fact that I’m not volunteering to do it in your place tells you what I think of that cat.” Eva stood up. “I’m willing to call the Bronx Zoo if you like and ask if they have any tips for feeding predators. Maybe we could open the window and poke a piece of meat through with a long pole.”

“I’ll feed her.” Frankie shrugged as they both looked at her. “Why not? She’s just a cat.” And it would give her an opportunity to leave a note in Matt’s apartment. She’d apologize for being rude. Then she wouldn’t have to do it face-to-face.

Which meant that she could add cowardice to her other flaws, but never mind.

Turning back to her work, she answered an email from a client who wanted flowers delivered to his wife on a monthly basis.

“Claws isn’t just a cat. She is a psychotic cat,” Eva said. “She scratched me so hard last week I thought my bone was going to fall out through the hole.”

Paige shuddered. “That’s vile.”

“It was vile. Lucas Blade could use that animal in one of his books as a murder weapon.”

“What did you do to her?”

“Nothing! I was trying to hug her! She was abandoned and mistreated. I was trying to show her that not all humans are evil.”

“You have to let her work that out for herself, Ev. You can’t love someone who doesn’t want to be loved.”

“Everyone wants to be loved. If they don’t, it’s because they’re afraid.”

Frankie pressed Send on her email. “Or because they think that love is just too much trouble.”

“That’s another way of saying they’re afraid. Don’t worry, I learned my lesson. I’m not going near her again. From now on I’ll be projecting my positive feelings from a safe distance.” Eva’s

phone rang and she picked it up and wandered out of the room, the fabric of her tiny scarlet skirt skimming her long, tanned legs.

Frankie stared after her, wondering how it felt to be that sexually confident. “Did she forget to dress? If she goes outside wearing that skirt there will be a riot.”