Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

“Why not? They’re great friends. They’re always laug

hing and teasing each other.” Maybe that was the answer. If Matt were with Eva, she’d stop thinking things she shouldn’t be thinking.

“They’re friends but there’s no chemistry between them.”

“He’s smoking hot and she’s beyond gorgeous. What more do you want?”

“You think my brother is smoking hot?” Paige looked at her curiously and Frankie wished she’d kept her mouth shut.

“I have eyes, don’t I? All I’m saying is that I think those two would be good together and if it was Matt with Eva then I wouldn’t have to kill him. I know he’d be good to her.”

Paige’s expression turned from curious to thoughtful. “They’d kill each other. She’d make him watch romantic movies and he’d turn to drink. No, I’d pick someone different for him. And anyway, Eva would never tolerate Claws, and Matt wouldn’t part with the cat so that’s their first major argument right there. She’ll find someone and, in the meantime, she has us. Thank goodness for friendship.”

Frankie didn’t disagree. Without her friends she never would have survived the difficult parts of her life. “I’ll stay with Eva the nights you’re at Jake’s.”

“You’d do that?”

“I don’t want her to be on her own and miserable.”

“That’s good of you, but there’s a flaw in that plan.”

“Which is?”

“She’d know you were only doing it for her.”

“Isn’t that what friendship is? Doing something for someone you care about?”

“Yes, but she’d be mortified if she knew I’d heard her crying and even more mortified if she knew I’d told you. She thinks she should be over losing her grandmother by now.”

“That’s crap. You don’t ever get over something like that. The best you can hope for is to learn to live alongside it.”

“I know. Let’s see how we go. In the meantime, I’ll carry on doing what I’m doing, dividing the week up. Maybe you can find reasons to look in on her the nights I’m not there. You don’t need to stay. So what else do you need to buy here?” Paige paused by another display. “Those pale pink roses are gorgeous.”

“No pastels. I want strong colors. Vibrant. Energetic. Electric. Futuristic. A fusion of color and scents.” She dug the list she’d made out of her bag and scanned it, anxious to do something that might stop her thinking about her mother.

They were surrounded by color. Pinks, purples, blues and yellows. Hydrangeas in more colors than she’d thought possible.

It should have been relaxing, but meeting her mother had fired up her tension levels.

She picked up some long-stemmed roses. “I didn’t ask where she was living.”

“Your mother? Do you want to know?”

“No. There’s no point. She won’t be there long.” Unable to concentrate, she stared down at the roses. “I can’t remember the last time we had a proper conversation. You speak to yours all the time, and about normal things. Mine just keeps encouraging me to have sex. Is there something wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you. Your mother isn’t an easy woman to deal with. Are we buying those roses? Because if not I think we’re about to be charged rent for holding them for so long.”

Frankie drove a hard bargain for the roses, talked colors and stems and then they strolled out of the store together and back into the street.

The sweet, sugary smell of the flowers filled the air, masking traffic fumes and city smells.

Thanks to Paige, she felt calmer.

She tried to imagine what life would look like without her friends.

It didn’t look good.

She stopped walking. “I’ll help Matt.”