Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

She saw a brief vision of the future, of evenings spent on the roof terrace, with Matt and his girlfriend entwined together on one of the low cushions.

“I’m happy for you.” She said the words, even though she didn’t feel them. “That’s great.”

What sort of woman had caught his attention? She’d be beautiful, obviously. Smart. That went without saying. And sexually confident. Definitely someone who would know how to flirt when the situation called for it.

Not the sort of woman who wore glasses when she didn’t need them.

“It’s not great.” He tucked the plans under his arm. “It’s complicated.”

Frankie had no idea what to say to that. She felt horribly inadequate. She was the last person to give anyone advice on relationships. “Relationships are always complicated. That’s why I don’t bother. I have no idea what a normal, healthy relationship looks like. And there I go again—being the rain cloud on someone’s patch of sunshine. Ignore me. If you want advice, talk to Eva. When it comes to love, she has all the answers. And she believes in it, which helps.”

“I don’t want to talk to Eva.”

Was he saying that he wanted to talk to her?

She was trapped between wanting to escape and wanting to be a good friend.

She had absolutely nothing of use to say on the subject of love, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t listen. This was Matt. Matt, who had given her a lovely home for years. “I can’t give advice, but I can listen if you want to talk.”

And if she turned green with envy, at least she’d match the plants.

“You’d do that?” There was a hint of humor in his voice. “Even though dating is your least favorite subject?”

“I don’t want some woman messing you around. I like you.” Oh, crap. She shouldn’t have said that. “We’re friends. Of course I like you. If you want to talk, talk. Tell me about this woman you’re interested in. She must be pretty special if you like her.”

“She is.”

His words added another bruise to the many that were accumulating.

“Why is it complicated? I assume she’s not married or still at school?” Seeing his brows lift she blushed and shook her head in apology. “Sorry. This is why you shouldn’t be talking to me. When it comes to love, my every thought is warped. So what’s the problem? Just tell her straight out. Or are you afraid she isn’t interested?”

“She’s interested.”

“Well, of course she is!” Envy made her irritable. “She’d have to be crazy not to be interested. You’re the whole package, Matt—the three Ss, as Eva calls it.”

“The three Ss?”

“Single, sane and s—” She was going to say sexy, but she suddenly realized how easily that could be misinterpreted. If he knew she found him sexy, she’d never be able to look him in the eye again, and that was already hard enough after the whole glasses incident. “Solvent,” she muttered. “You’re solvent.”

“Single, sane and solvent?” He sounded amused. “That’s all it takes? That doesn’t sound like a very high bar.”

“In Manhattan, you’d be surprised,” Frankie said darkly. “All I’m saying is, if you’re interested in someone, there shouldn’t be a problem. A million women would jump at the thought of having you in their lives.”

There was a pause as Matt scanned the skyline. “I don’t want a million women. I want one woman, and she’s scared of relationships. She’s not good at trusting, so I’m taking it slowly.”

Something in his tone made her glance at him sharply, but he’d slid the sunglasses back onto his nose and she could no longer see his eyes.

Frankie was confused.

Surely he wasn’t saying—?

He didn’t mean—?

A delicious, terrifying excitement ripped through her. She went from envy to euphoria. She was filled with an equal amount of joy and heat. Matt was interested in her. Her. She was the woman. The thought made her dizzy with elation. Her palms felt sticky and her heart pounded like drums in a rock band. And then it dawned on her that if he knew she was interested and he was also interested, the next logical step would be to take things to the next level. That would be what he was expecting. That was what normal people did, wasn’t it? That was the reason he was telling her how he felt. And if they took things to the next level—

Reality poked its way through the joy, puncturing her elation like a needle pressed against a child’s balloon.

Euphoria gave way to pure panic.