Sunset In Central Park Page 13

  Frankie pulled out two pairs of running shoes, several pairs of Converse, three pairs of sturdy boots and two pairs of flats. Eva rejected them all. “Don’t you have anything with a heel?”

  “My last pair of heels snapped when I got them caught in that grill on Fifth Avenue.”

  “We’re the same size. I’ll lend you something.”

  “I don’t want to wear heels. I love my flats. I like being able to walk.”

  “Heels give you an excuse to hold his arm—” Eva caught her eye again “—which obviously you don’t want to do,” she said hastily, “so you might as well wear flats. Great idea.”

  “None of this is a great idea. What are we going to talk about?”

  “The same things you talk about when we’re all there.” Eva carried on sorting through Frankie’s clothes. “Plants, roof terraces, Claws, crazy cab drivers, the volume of construction in Manhattan—the choice of subject matter is endless. What is this?” She held up an old gray T-shirt with a hole in the shoulder and Frankie shrugged.

  “I know it’s old but it doesn’t matter because I wear it to bed.”

  “Not anymore you don’t.” Eva started a pile on the floor for disposal.

  “I live on my own. Who cares what I wear to bed?”

  “I care. I won’t be able to sleep upstairs, thinking of you down here wearing that.”

  “I love you, but there are times when I think you’re very strange.”

  “The feeling is mutual.” Eva added another T-shirt to the pile on the floor. “What if there’s a fire in the night? A hot fireman might come and rescue you and you’ll be wearing this ugly gray thing.”

  “If there was a fire in the night I hope the fireman would be thinking about the two of us not burning to death, rather than judging my fashion choices.”

  “This was a choice?” Eva tossed another T-shirt on the growing pile. “Your wardrobe is an abomination. It’s no wonder you don’t know what to wear to dinner with Matt. There’s nothing here.”

  The reminder of dinner brought the gnawing feeling back to Frankie’s stomach. “I don’t know why he wants to do this.”

  “Because he likes you,” Eva said patiently, “and he wants to spend time with you.”

  “I should have kissed him. That would have ended it there and then.”

  “If he asks you on a second date you can still try that.” Eva reached out and wound one of Frankie’s curls around her finger. “You have truly beautiful hair. I don’t suppose you’d let me—”

  “No.”

  “But you don’t know what I—”

  “Still no.”

  Eva sighed and let her hand drop. “How about just a tiny glimmer of lip gloss? Just to emphasize your mouth.”

  “I don’t want to emphasize my mouth or any other part of myself. I’m having dinner and it ends there.” Because if it didn’t end there that would mean—

  She swallowed and met Eva’s gaze.

  “Stop it!” Eva stood up. “You need to stop dissecting everything and get ready. Go and have a shower and I’ll fetch the tunic.” She walked to the door and then paused, a wistful look on her face. “I’m so happy for you. I can’t believe the two of you are finally going on a date.”

  “It’s not a date!”

  “Of course it isn’t,” Eva soothed. “All I meant was, I hope you have an amazing time on your—er—dinner that’s not a date. Nondate. It’s a nondate.”

  “So what’s happening?” Paige was eating a slice of toast with one hand and scrolling through her emails with the other. “Where are you going with your favorite tunic?”

  “I’m lending it to Frankie. She has a date with Matt.” Eva danced around the room, humming to herself. “But don’t call it that or you’ll freak her out. They’re on a nondate, which is a whole new way of dating for people who are freaked out by dating. Which is basically Frankie.”

  Paige finished her toast. “A nondate. Sounds interesting. So what happens if they have a good time?”

  “I don’t know.” Eva shrugged. “I guess they go on a second nondate and before they know it they’re nondating on a regular basis. Maybe there will even be a nonengagement and a nonwedding. As long as the cake is real, that’s all I care about.”

  Paige raised her eyebrows. “You don’t think you’re jumping ahead slightly?”

  “Someone has to. Frankie has been stuck in the same place emotionally for far too long. And she’s been stuck in the same place with her wardrobe, too. This has to end. I’m going to quietly slip a few things into her apartment and hope she doesn’t notice.” Eva frowned. “I hope Matt just grabs her and kisses her.”

  “Stopping you right there.” Paige raised a hand. “I don’t want to think about my brother kissing.”

  “I bet he’s an amazing kisser.”

  “No! Don’t want to think about it. Go. Give Frankie the tunic.” Paige picked up her phone. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I stay with Jake tonight?”

  “Mind? Why would I mind? I’m not your mother.” Eva adopted a serious face. “I hope you’re using protection, Paige, and making good choices.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “I know what you meant. You’re worried I’m going to sit in a sodden heap all night, but I promise I’m not.”

  “I don’t like leaving you.”

  “Please! Am I twelve years old? I’m looking forward to having some ‘me’ time. I’m going to give myself a beauty pampering and have a Netflix marathon. Bliss.”

  Paige gave her a long look. “You’re sure?”

  “I’m sure. You don’t have to watch over me. It’s true that sometimes I’m sad, but that’s to be expected. I lost the only family I have and I miss her horribly. Sometimes life sucks. We all know that. I know you and Frankie both think I’m marshmallow, but I’m pretty resilient.”

  “I know you are.” Paige gave her a hug. “And you’re not alone. We’re your family, too.”

  “I know, but tonight I don’t need a babysitter. Go and fan the flames with Jake. But not so many flames you need the fire department. I’m still getting over the shock of seeing what Frankie wears to bed.” Patting her on the shoulder, Eva pulled away. “I have serious work to do. I need to make sure our Frankie doesn’t bolt the door and refuse to go on this date.”

  “That isn’t going to happen.”

  “You didn’t see her. She was close to having a panic attack.”

  “Matt will handle her. And by the way, I’m making excellent choices, even though I may not choose to disclose all of them to my mother.”

  Chapter Eight

  Relationships are like Halloween. Scary.

  —Frankie

  Matt’s approach was to keep it low-key and casual, and as little like a date as possible, and the moment he saw how nervous Frankie was he knew he’d made the right decision.

  “Frankie—”

  “What? What? Do I look okay? You didn’t tell me where we’d be going so it was hard to know what to wear. I’m probably not wearing the right clothes—”

  “You look incredible. Can you walk in those shoes? Because we’re going to be walking.”

  “Of course I can walk. You’re mixing me up with Eva, whose shoes are like high-rise apartments. You think I look incredible? You like the tunic?” She tugged at the silver tunic and he smiled.

  “I hadn’t noticed the tunic, but now you mention it—” He saw her snatch in a tiny breath.

  “Oh, that’s smooth.”

  “It’s not smooth.” He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her face to his. “It’s the truth. It’s called a compliment.”

  She skewered him with a glare. “Compliments make me uncomfortable. Back off.”

  “I’m not backing off. And you’ll get used to the compliments in time. Are you ready? I have a cab waiting.”

  A few days before he might have been amused and a little exasperated that she could feel nervous around him when he’d known her for most of his life, but tha
t was before he’d understood how much there was about her that he didn’t know. It wasn’t about the length of a relationship, he realized, it was about the depth. Now he knew she had secrets.

  And he wanted her to share them with him.

  He wanted to know who had told her she was a D minus.

  But right now he wanted to stop her thinking about the evening ahead. He changed the subject as they walked to the cab, recounting a funny story about a client he had met a few days ago who had wanted to plant an instant apple orchard.

  “Instant? How can it be instant? Does she think you have magical powers?” The wary look in Frankie’s eyes was replaced by laughter as they stepped inside the cab.

  “She saw a picture in a magazine and wanted her garden to look just like that. She’d read that you could buy mature trees, and thought that was all that was needed. We had a frank conversation.” He relaxed back in his seat, glancing out the window as the cab drove over the Brooklyn Bridge toward Lower Manhattan.

  “So you told a client no?”

  “I listened and then proposed a different approach. I don’t ever take a job that I know is a bad idea. In the short term she would have been a client but when her apple orchard withered and died she would have been an ex-client, and my reputation would have been mulched along with the apples.”

  “And now she’s probably in love with you.”

  Matt laughed. “I wouldn’t go that far, but we definitely reached a level of understanding.”

  “Where does she live?”

  “Maine.” Eventually he was going to bring up the subject of Puffin Island, but not yet.

  “So you need to be careful which species you recommend.”

  “Because of the cold climate?”

  “Cold climate, short growing season and diseases.”

  “That’s what I told her.” But it was good to hear it confirmed. Her depth of knowledge always impressed him. “She wants to grow Pink Lady.”

  “Forget it. She can also forget Braeburn, GoldRush and Granny Smith. They don’t ripen before the first freeze so they don’t have the flavor. I’d go with Beacon or Snow. Honeygold and Honeycrisp would work, too, but whatever you’re planting you need to prepare the soil and do some significant ground work, otherwise your poor apple trees will be foundering.”

  “Noted.”

  They discussed it in more detail as the cab wound its way through Manhattan going north and he noticed that when she stopped thinking about being on a date she was relaxed. He also noticed that the tunic she was wearing brought out the incredible green of her eyes. Her hair fell in a tangle of fire and flame past her shoulders, and her nose was slightly pink from the sun. “I’m going to talk to some local apple growers and in the meantime, I promised to come back to her with a drawn-up plan.”

  “Victoria has gone. Who is doing that for you?”

  “I was hoping you would.”

  “I’m already helping with your roof terrace! What do you think I am, a robot?”

  “No. I think you’re capable and talented.” He thought a great number of other things, too, things that kept him awake at night and messed with his focus, but he restricted his compliments to her work. “And it’s because you’re capable and talented that I intend to pick your brains about this garden. I thought you could involve Roxy. Pass on some of your expertise.”

  Her gaze softened. “I like Roxy. And you’re generous, taking her on.”

  “She’s a hard worker and she deserves a break.” He leaned forward and spoke to the cab driver and Frankie glanced out the window.

  “This is Central Park.”

  “That’s right.”

  “This is our date?”

  “What date? We’re not on a date.”

  The cab pulled up and Matt paid and nudged a protesting Frankie out of the car.

  “I want to pay.”

  He shook his head and then remembered how strongly she felt about paying her own way. “You can pay on the way home. Alternatively, you could pay me back by giving me help I can’t get from anyone else.”

  She waited while he closed the door of the cab. “So you’re asking me to help you with this job as well as the other one? Even if I have the time I can’t advise you properly without seeing the garden. I’d need to walk around it and get a feel for the place. I’d need to know more about the soil—”

  “So that’s a yes? Thank you.”

  “I didn’t say—” She made an exasperated sound. “You’re manipulative.”

  “I’m a man who knows how to pick the best person for the job.” It was so much more like one of their normal exchanges that he smiled, and after a second she smiled back.

  “Paige does that same thing.”

  “What thing?”

  “That thing where you charm people into giving them the answer you want to hear.”

  “You think I’m charming?”

  “No. I think you’re superannoying.”

  “Are you hungry?”

  “Honestly? Not really. Dating makes me nervous and being nervous kills my appetite.” She stopped dead and there was a hint of desperation in her eyes. “I warned you I was no good at this. I’m supposed to be making sparkly conversation and seducing you with my wit and my body, but so far all I’ve done is talked about apples.”

  “First, we’re not on a date. Second, we’re in a public place so it’s probably best if you don’t seduce me, and third, I happen to find apples interesting.”

  “Matt—”

  “Frankie,” he kept his tone patient, “you’re trying too hard. Just be yourself.”

  “I’m nervous. Look—” she held out her hands “—I’m shaking. If you gave me a drink now, I’d spill it.”

  “I asked you out because I like you. You, not some version you think you’re supposed to be. You just have to be you, that’s all. It’s not hard, Frankie.”

  “Me.” She looked unconvinced. “Okay, I’ll try that.”

  He took her hand and tugged her against him, keeping her away from skateboarders and horse-drawn carriages. Central Park on a summer’s evening in August was crowded and colorful and they headed into the park, leaving behind the insanity of the city, the bright lights and the blare of cab horns. They passed joggers and tourists, lovers strolling hand in hand, musicians and a bride and groom posing for wedding photographs.

  “Wedding alert,” he drawled. “Keep your eyes straight ahead.”

  “There’s no escaping it.” She gave a wry smile and glanced up at the canopy of trees. “It’s beautiful. After a week of staring at towers of steel and glass, I needed a nature fix. This was a great idea.”

  “I love Central Park. It’s one of my favorite places in New York. When I first arrived here I missed Puffin Island and I used to come here for my dose of green. It’s a place where you can escape from the crazy energy of this city. There’s a bench I adopted as my own where I did most of my studying. That’s the best thing about the park. Finding your own place.”

  They strolled along a narrow, winding path, through sunlight and shadow, past borders tumbling with flowers.

  “What would you have done if I’d worn high heels?”

  “I knew you wouldn’t.”

  “How did you know?”

  “Because I know you.” Except that it turned out he didn’t know her anywhere near as well as he’d thought he did, or wanted to. And he was planning on doing something about that.

  He looked at her and found her looking at him.

  He stopped walking and so did she.

  The air stood still. There wasn’t a breath of wind, and all sound vanished.

  A single strand of her hair curved around her cheek toward her mouth, as if saying this way. He wanted to follow those shining strands with the tips of his fingers and explore the line of her jaw with his lips. He wanted to get close enough to count the freckles that dusted her nose. He wanted to pull her in and kiss her, right there among the trees and flowers, laughing children and barking dogs.r />
  It was the last two that stopped him hauling her into his arms. When he finally kissed her, he wanted it to be in private.

  He stepped away from her and glanced up toward the sky, trying to act normally. Trying to act as if his blood wasn’t racing and his heart wasn’t pounding. “Did you know you can do bat walks here in the summer?”

  There was a brief pause. “Bat walks?” Her husky tone suggested she was suffering in the same way he was.

  “I only found out recently. If I’d known, I would have taken my sister years ago.”

  A laugh escaped her. “Paige would hate it.”

  “It’s a brother’s duty to scare his sister senseless.”

  He chose a route that took them along meandering woodland paths, and they strolled through dappled sunlight, enjoying the outdoor space.

  For his own sake he steered the conversation onto safe topics.

  He asked her about Urban Genie and she told him about some of their more recent business wins.

  “We’re working long hours, but somehow those hours don’t seem so long when you’re working with your friends. Sometimes we’re laughing so much it feels more like one of our nights off.” She related a couple of stories that made him smile, and then she asked him about his business and he found himself telling her about his current dilemma.

  His business was growing so fast he’d reached a point where he had to make a decision on whether to expand or turn down work. What he really wanted to do was find a way to sponsor Roxy for training but then they’d be another person short.

  “She shows a real aptitude and she’s keen, but that’s not enough. She needs to learn the scientific fundamentals of plant care so she can take on maintenance programs for the clients.”

  “She could do classes evenings and on weekends?”

  “But she needs to be there for Mia.”

  “When I was training there was a woman who took six years to get her certificate. They’re very flexible about allowing you to do whatever fits with your schedule.”

  He was surprised to discover how helpful it was to talk it through with her, because usually he made all his decisions alone. It was the way he operated.

  They reached Bow Bridge as the sun set and stood gazing at the views of Central Park West and Fifth Avenue, watching as the tops of the trees glowed red in the fading light.