down the steps to the street.
It was her favorite time of year, when spring nudged the edges of summer and the cherry blossoms and magnolia burst into bloom. They filled the air with scent and color as if the city was celebrating its release from the deep layers of snow that had buried its charms over the long winter months.
In the winter and the height of summer she took spin classes indoors, but right now there was no better way to enjoy the weather and her neighborhood than running.
She loved the wide streets and the symmetry of the historic brownstones shaded by cherry trees. It was quintessential laid-back Brooklyn. Some people chose to live here because they couldn’t afford Manhattan. She lived here because she loved it—the smells, the vibe, the rhythm of the neighborhood. Although it was early, the streets were already alive with activity, and she watched people going about their lives as she ran to the park, feeling the sun warm her neck, breathing in spring air scented with blossom and baking.
The panic of the previous day had eased, along with those unsettling feelings that being with Jake had unleashed.
Today would be all about planning. She’d already had ideas and her light had been on most of the night as she’d made notes.
Like Jake, she loved technology. It satisfied her need for organization and allowed her to track projects and maximize efficiency. Maybe she didn’t understand the detail in the way he did, but that didn’t mean she didn’t enjoy using the results of other people’s creativity.
She tried telling herself that the reason she hadn’t slept much the night before was all down to nerves, excitement and the use of her mobile devices late into the night. Everyone knew that using screens at night was bad, didn’t they?
Her sleepless night had nothing to do with Jake Romano.
Except—
She ran into the park and picked up her pace.
Being evasive with romantic Eva was one thing, but what was the point in lying to herself? Better to admit that she was in trouble. At least that way she would be on her guard. And although she hadn’t wanted to be flattered, his attention had felt nice. He’d boosted her confidence when it had reached the point of collapse. He’d pushed her when she’d wanted to hide and play it safe.
She was accustomed to Jake saying the wrong things. There were days when she was convinced he chose his words with the intention of annoying her, but last night he’d said all the right things. He’d made her feel as if she could do this. He’d given her assurance when she’d needed it most. He’d made her feel—he’d made her feel—
Crap.
She stopped running and bent over to catch her breath, frustrated that he could still make her feel this way.
She’d been seventeen when she’d first laid eyes on him. Because her condition had required specialist care beyond the capabilities of her local hospital, she’d had surgery in a hospital in New York, which meant Matt had been able to visit her.
The first time he’d brought his friend Jake with him, she’d thought she was hallucinating.
It was lucky she hadn’t been rigged up to a heart monitor at the time or she was pretty sure she would have had every doctor in the building running to help with the emergency.
From that moment, everything changed. It was as if someone had flicked a switch and changed her life from black and white to color.
People commented on how brave she was, and how well she coped with the boredom of being in hospital.
What they didn’t know was that she’d spent almost every hour thinking about Jake.
Eyes closed or open, he was always in her head.
She’d lived for his visits, even though she was rarely alone with him. When her dad’s commitments to his law practice in Portland, Maine had prevented him from being by her bedside, her mother had been there, and if neither of them could make it, then Matt was there. Their cumulative anxiety levels had filtered through to her.
Jake was different.
He’d entertained her with outrageous stories, and on the nights when Matt had been studying for exams, it had been Jake who had stayed late, keeping her company.
Paige had fallen in love.
First love.
Everyone said you got over it and they were right.
For her, humiliation had proved to be a magical cure.
Unfortunately sexual attraction hadn’t proved so easily destructible.
Most days it was easy to ignore because Jake was as irritating as he was attractive. But last night—
Last night had been an aberration. A response to the fact she’d lost her job.
Pushing him out of her mind, she took a shortcut that led through the trees back to the street.
Early-morning sun was the best, she thought. Bright and mood lifting, and after the long bitter chill of winter it was blissful to be outdoors.
She passed people she knew and exchanged a smile and a few words.
New York was a city of neighborhoods, and the neighborhood where they lived felt like a village. Wide, leafy streets were lined with historic brownstones and row houses, bustling cafés, family-owned stores brimming with fresh produce, flower and craft shops. Families had lived in the area for generations.
In the evenings the air was filled with the sounds of children playing and crickets chirping, the smooth notes of someone practicing the saxophone against an accompaniment of honking horns and the occasional shriek of a siren.
She loved the fact that within minutes of walking out of her door she could take a spin class, buy a slice of cheesecake, have a haircut or join a yoga session in the park. She could buy everything from fried chicken to organic smoothies.
Within two blocks of their brownstone there was a thriving independent bookstore, an art gallery and Petit Pain, the bakery that doubled as a coffee shop. And, of course, there was Romano’s, the local Italian restaurant owned by Jake’s mother. In the summer their tables spilled into the street, a web of vines shading the eating area from the bright evening sun.
Frankie believed they made the best pizza anywhere in New York City, and given that she’d eaten pizza on almost every street at one point or another, no one argued with her.
This early the tables were empty but already the scent of garlic and oregano wafted through the air.
The door to the kitchen was open and Paige ducked through it. As expected, Maria Romano was already at work making pasta.
“Buongiorno.” That was one of the few words of Italian Paige admitted to knowing. The others were her secret, part of a time when she’d deluded herself into thinking something might happen between her and Jake.
“Paige!”
Instantly she was embraced by flour and affection. “Am I disturbing you?”
“Never.
