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Sunset In Central Park (From Manhattan with Love 2)

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Generally she didn’t care what men thought about her, but she cared what Matt thought.

“You’re right. I should have an adult conversation. But I can’t turn ‘hey, I wear glasses but I don’t need them’ into anything that sounds remotely mature.”

Eva walked back into the room. “That was Mitzy. She wants to officially be one of our clients, and before either of you say anything, I know she’s never going to be our biggest earner, but I love her. What’s the matter with you two?” She peered at Frankie. “You’re wearing your doomed face and Paige is wearing her problem-solving face. What’s happened?”

“I have a doomed face?” Just for a moment Frankie wished she had Eva’s confidence. Never in a million years would she go out in public wearing a skirt that short.

“You have the face you wear when things are going wrong.”

Paige stood up and picked up some pages from the printer. “Matt worked out that she doesn’t need glasses.”

“Oh.” Eva’s brow cleared. “Is that all? I thought something awful had happened.”

“That is awful.”

“Why? Wearing glasses is part of who you are. It’s part of your individuality.”

“You mean my hang-ups.”

Eva shrugged. “Hang-ups are individual. The important thing is that you mustn’t be afraid to let people know the real you. That’s what intimacy is.”

“I don’t want intimacy! That’s why I wear the glasses—to repel intimacy.”

“Yes, but—” Eva caught Paige’s eye. “But I strongly defend the right of the individual to wear whatever they like, so I’m making no comment. Is that why you want to know how to flirt? So that next time he talks about your glasses you can turn it into seduction?”

“I wear the glasses so I can be sure I never reach the point of seduction.”

Eva looked baffled. “I love you, but I will never understand you.”

“That goes both ways. And if you don’t comment on my glasses, I won’t comment on that thing you call a skirt.”

“Hey, I am rocking this skirt.” Eva’s cheeks dimpled into a smile as she rotated her hips in a sensuous movement that would have caused multiple collisions had they been in public. “Don’t you love it?”

“I’ve seen wider hair ribbons, but yes, it’s cute. Now tell us about Mitzy.” She needed to stop thinking about Matt and focus on work. “What does she need from us? If she can get me early copies of all Lucas Blade’s releases, I’ll do pretty much anything for her.”

“She wants me to bake him a birthday cake.”

Paige clipped pages together. “Does she really want a cake or is it just an excuse to spend another afternoon talking to you?”

“Does it matter? She’s so kind. And wise.” Eva’s voice thickened. “She reminds me of Grams. And she treats me as if I’m family.”

Eva had such a rosy view of family it made Frankie feel guilty that she couldn’t feel better disposed toward her own.

“Go and see her, Ev. I’ll make up a bunch of flowers for her, and don’t charge her for the cake.”

“I don’t think she minds paying. Money isn’t the problem. But she’s lonely.”

And so are you, Frankie thought, making a mental note to spend more time with her friend. As an introvert, she didn’t seek human contact the way Eva did. She loved her friends, but she was equally comfortable in her own space with her books and her plants. But she knew that with Paige spending more time with Jake, Eva would be spending more time alone.

“Her grandsons don’t visit?”

“One of them rarely leaves Wall Street and Lucas, the one who writes those scary books you love, rarely leaves his apartment unless he’s on a book tour. Apparently, his deadline is looming and he’s Mr. Moody. She wants me to fill his freezer with healthy food, too, so he doesn’t fade away or turn into a vessel for junk food.”

Frankie thought about what had happened to the main character in the opening scene of Lucas Blade’s new book. Then she looked at Eva, who was so gentle you could have knocked her ov

er with one flick of a soft sweater. “I don’t think you should be visiting some reclusive dangerous guy in his apartment by yourself.”

“Who said he was dangerous? I never said he was dangerous.”



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