Sunset In Central Park. Sarah Morgan
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He thought she had beautiful eyes?
Frankie wandered through Manhattan’s flower market in a daze that had nothing to do with the early start or the fact she hadn’t slept.
“I love this place.” Paige slipped her arm through Frankie’s. “It’s calming, isn’t it?”
“What is?” Frankie wasn’t concentrating. She couldn’t stop thinking about the moment she’d been trapped between Matt and the door. He hadn’t actually touched her, but he might as well have because she’d been so agonizingly aware of him it had been almost impossible to breathe. The avalanche of unfamiliar feelings had come as a shock. It wasn’t as if she was the kind of person who thought about sex all the time. Hardly ever, in fact. She’d accepted that it didn’t play an important role in her life, and even though she was intelligent enough to know that at least part of the reason for that lay with her parents, she hadn’t ever considered that it might change.
But it was changing. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that Matt was changing it. He hadn’t touched her, but she’d found herself wanting to touch him. She’d wanted to grab him and kiss him, an impulse that had left her more than a little freaked out. Fortunately, she’d managed to stop herself, but what she hadn’t been able to stop was the strange feeling inside her, the almost breathless excitement that she associated with Christmas Eve and the last day of school. Being close to him seemed to flick a switch in a part of her she’d never accessed before. And she had to remind herself to breathe, something she’d managed to do without prompting up until this point in her life.
Paige elbowed her. “You’re not listening to me. You need strong coffee.” She dragged her into the small coffee shop and ordered two espressos. “This will wake you up.”
Frankie didn’t tell her that her problem wasn’t going to be solved by coffee.
She wasn’t sure how to solve it. Two cold showers hadn’t worked.
They drank the coffee and Paige talked about new clients while Frankie tried to forget the hard strength of Matt’s body against hers and focus on business.
Boosted by caffeine, they tackled the flower market. Nestled between Seventh Avenue and Broadway, the market was a hidden jungle of plants surrounded by soaring tower blocks of glass and steel. It was five o’clock in the morning but despite the early hour, the place was bustling with people.
They went into one of the many stores and Frankie leaned forward and stuck her nose in a bunch of blooms. “These are perfect.” She picked a large bunch and stashed it on a metal shelf to buy later, before carefully selecting another bunch.
“They’re pretty. So did you speak to Matt?”
Frankie almost dropped the flowers. How could just hearing his name make her clumsy? She was like a teenager in the throes of her first major crush. Except that she’d never felt this way when she was a teenager. “I wrote him a note, but then he showed up while I was feeding Claws and I scrunched it up because I’m a coward.”
“He didn’t say anything?”
“He said a couple of things.” Unsettling things. Things that had danced around her brain and kept her awake when she should have been sleeping.
You have beautiful eyes.
She’d been so taken aback by the compliment, she’d said nothing. Eva would have made a lighthearted remark in response. Paige probably would have done the same.
She’d been mute.
And this morning she’d found her glasses in her mailbox.
She wondered if it was a test to see if she’d put them back on.
Frustrated with herself, she turned her head and stole a surreptitious glance in the mirror that ran along one side of the store. The glasses dominated her face, which had been her plan when she’d chosen them.
Paige leaned over to examine a box of cream roses. “Did he mention work?”
“Work?” Unable to see how anyone could think her eyes were beautiful, Frankie turned back to her friend. “You mean did he tell me about Victoria leaving? Yes. He’s been trying to recruit someone. After he mentioned it on Saturday night, I called a few people I met on my course at the Botanic Gardens, and people I’ve worked with since then, but so far no luck. I’m still working on it.”
“He wants you to do it.”
Her pulse skipped. “That’s not going to happen.”
“Why not? You love roof gardens! They’re your favorite thing. Why wouldn’t you do it?”
Because forgetting how to breathe for the short time she was currently with him was one thing, but having to remind herself right through an entire working day was something else. What if she forgot and suffocated? And then there was the whole electric-current feeling that she didn’t seem able to switch off. She wasn’t sure she’d survive feeling that way for an entire day. She couldn’t possibly work with him.
And maybe that made her a coward, but better to be a coward than be asphyxiated by longing. Because that was what it was. She might be embarrassingly inexperienced, but she recognized desire.
She imagined the autopsy report: death by sexual frustration.
“We’ve only just started Urban Genie. I can’t go and work for another company.”
“I’m not suggesting you go into partnership with Matt, just help him with this project over the summer.”
“We have two events the week after next.”
“Both of which you’ve already planned. Buds and Blooms has a great team. They did a good job on the Harrison Real Estate event last week. If they have any problems, they can call you.”
It was the same argument Matt had used. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because mixing business with personal is never a good thing.”
Paige burst out laughing. “It’s not as if you’re having sex with him!” Laughter was replaced by curiosity. “Are you?”
“No!” But now Paige had mentioned it, Frankie’s brain was crowded with new images. Images of Matt naked, that strong, muscular body intimately entwined with hers. “Of course not. Why would you even ask that?”
“Possibly because your face is scarlet.”
“That’s because I hate talking about sex in public. I don’t think working with Matt is a good idea, that’s all. I should be focusing my attention on Urban Genie.”
“This isn’t like you. I thought you’d want to help.”
“I did help! I made some calls. I plan on making more later.”
“But why not do it yourself? You’re the sort of person who would do anything for your friends.” Paige hesitated. “If it weren’t for Matt, we’d all be living in a shoe box.”
“You’re