Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

Horror washed through her. It was like arriving at work and discovering you’d forgotten to dress. “If you’ve finished, you should probably go.” She snatched the plate from him, her face burning. “Claws is scratching my sofa. And I need to get back to my book.”

The book she could read perfectly well without glasses.

Matt didn’t budge. “We’re not going to talk about this?”

“Nothing to talk about. Good night, Matt.” She was so desperate for him to leave she stumbled over the kitchen chair on her way to the door. The irony almost made her laugh. If she’d done that sooner, he might never have guessed. “Have a great evening.”

He stood up slowly and followed her.

“Frankie—” The gentleness of his tone somehow intensified the humiliation.

“Good night.” She pushed him through the door and Claws shot out with him, clearly unimpressed by the level of hospitality.

Frankie slammed the door, narrowly missing his hand.

Then she leaned against it and closed her eyes.

Crap, crap and crap.

Her cover was totally and utterly blown.

Matt let himself into his apartment and dropped his keys on the table.

He’d known Frankie since she was six years old and for the past ten years, since she’d moved to New York, she’d been a constant feature in his life. He didn’t just know her, he knew her. He knew she burned easily and always wore sunscreen. He knew she hated tomato, romance movies, the subway. He knew she had a black belt in karate. And it wasn’t just those basic facts that he knew. He knew deeper things. Important things. Like the fact that her relationship with her mother was difficult and that her parents’ divorce had affected her deeply.

He knew all those things, but until tonight he hadn’t known she didn’t need the glasses she always wore.

r /> He ran a hand over his face. How could he have missed that?

She’d worn glasses for as long as he could remember, and he’d never once questioned her need for them. He’d noticed that she fiddled with them when a situation made her nervous or uncomfortable, as if they offered her some reassurance, but he’d never understood why her glasses would be reassuring. They were possibly the ugliest thing he’d ever seen. The frames were thick and heavy and an unappealing shade of brown, as if they’d been trodden into a patch of damp earth. They were unattractive, and knowing her the way he did, Matt was sure that was the reason she’d chosen them. They were armor. Razor wire, to repel unwanted intruders.

Relationships, he thought. Was anything in life as complicated?

Claws rubbed against his legs and he bent to stroke her.

Who was going to break the bad news to her that she was cute as hell with or without ugly glasses? The fact that she seemed unaware of it just increased the sexiness level. There was so much she didn’t know about herself.

The cat sprang onto the sofa, digging in her claws, and he gave a humorless laugh.

“Yeah, she’d probably do the same thing if I told her that. Dig her claws in me. Then she’d hide under the kitchen table. You and she have a lot in common.”

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he took the steps up to the roof terrace.

The setting sun sent shards of red and orange over the Manhattan skyline.

New York was a city of neighborhoods, of buildings that rose tall and proud into the sky, of blaring cab horns, hissing steam and the never-ending noise of construction. It was a city of iconic landmarks: the Empire State Building, the Chrysler Building, the Flatiron Building. The ultimate dream destination for many, and he understood that. Tourists arrived and immediately felt as if they were extras on a movie set. You saw them pointing it out. That’s where they filmed Spiderman, or that’s where Harry met Sally.

And it was a city of individuals. The wealthy, the poor, the lonely, the ambitious. Singles, families, locals and tourists—they all crowded together on this patch of land that nudged the water.

“You going to stand there admiring your kingdom all night or are you going to share a beer with me?”

Matt turned sharply and saw Jake sprawled on one of the loungers, a beer in his hand. He swore under his breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Jake grinned. “Big tough guy like you? Never.”

“What are you doing here?” Normally he would have been happy to see his friend, but right now he wanted space to process this new information on Frankie. What else didn’t he know about her? What else was she hiding?

Jake raised the bottle toward Matt. “I’m drinking your beer and enjoying your view. Best view in Brooklyn.”