Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)
Page 19
Paige jabbed the charging cable into her phone. “She looks amazing, doesn’t she? We went shopping yesterday when you were lost in your book. Your response to stress is to read, ours is to shop. How was it, by the way?”
“I didn’t make it past the third chapter.”
“That’s not like you. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong.”
“Frankie—”
“It’s Matt.” She closed her laptop. “He found out I don’t need to wear glasses.”
“He— Oh.” Paige let out a long breath. “How? When?”
“Saturday night. He came down looking for Claws. I was on my own and I wasn’t expecting anyone. I was reading and cooking and—I wasn’t paying attention. Long day.” She closed her eyes briefly. “I can’t believe I was so careless.”
“Is it really such a big deal?”
“It’s a huge deal.”
“Why?” Paige sat back in her chair. “Frankie, it’s not as if he’s a stranger. Matt has known you since you were a kid. He knows pretty much everything there is to know about you.”
“He didn’t know I wear glasses even though my vision is perfect.”
“How did he react?”
“I don’t know. I pushed him out the door without asking.” Remembering made her want to crawl under the table. “There were a million things I could have said or done. I could have smiled and said I manage fine without my glasses in the apartment but no, I gave him a shove that would probably have injured someone less powerfully built than your brother.”
“If he upset you, I’ll kill him.” Paige sounded annoyed. “Did he say something tactless?”
“I didn’t give him the chance. It wasn’t his fault. It was me. All me.” She dropped her head in her hands. “What is wrong with me? I’m a sane, independent woman. I’m good at my job—”
“You’re excellent at your job.”
“Yeah, I really am. And I know I’m a disappointing daughter, but I’m a great friend even though I don’t hug enough for Eva.” She lifted her head. “All I’m saying is that in every other aspect of my life I’m pretty normal and function well. Why am I such a basket case around men?”
“Do you seriously need me to answer that?”
“No, but I should have the emotional intelligence not to let the antics of my mother affect my life like this. Matt said he liked me in my T-shirt—he paid me a compliment and I responded as if he’d covered me in anthrax.”
“This is why you want to learn to flirt?”
“I want to learn to be normal.” She looked at her friend in despair. “What am I going to do?”
“Do you mean about the glasses, Matt or men in general?”
“All of it! How can I wear glasses around him knowing that he knows? I’ll feel stupid. And what do I say next time I see him?”
“Whether you wear glasses or not is your choice, Frankie. If you feel more comfortable wearing them, then wear them. And as for what happened on Saturday—” Paige thought for a moment “—you should probably talk to him about it.”
“I was leaning more toward pretending it never happened.” If she could ignore it, she would. “I could leave him a note saying sorry I was weird.”
“You don’t have to do that, Frankie. He knows you.”
“You mean he knows I’m weird.”
Paige smiled. “No. I mean he knows what you grew up with. I don’t understand why this bothers you. This is Matt we’re talking about. Not some stranger.”
It was precisely because it was Matt that it bothered her. Exposing the depth of her hang-ups to a guy she’d known forever and found attractive was mortifying.