Sunset In Central Park (10 page)

“How would you know? You’re an only child.”

“But I’m an expert on relationships. It’s my superpower. Believe me when I say Matt would handle your issues with both hands tied behind his back.” Eva picked up a fork. “That’s one of the qualities that makes him hot.”

“I don’t want him to handle me. As you say, the guy was messed around plenty by Caroline. I’m not adding to the trauma.”

“I’m confused. Are you protecting him or yourself?”

“Both of us!”

“Caroline lied.” Paige dug her fork into the cake. “She wasn’t honest. You’re nothing like Caroline. Matt trusts you. But if you’re not interested, just tell him straight. Matt will respect your feelings and leave you alone.” She took a
mouthful and closed her eyes. “Sublime, Eva. What’s the secret ingredient?”

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you and eat you and I’m already way over my daily calorie allowance with this slice of cake.”

Frankie stared at her cake without touching it. “I
am
interested. That’s the problem.”

Eva paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “You’re interested? In Matt? That’s the problem you were talking about earlier?”

“Yes! I’m interested, and I don’t want to be.” Frankie felt as if her heart was going to burst. “My head is a mess. I shake when he stands near me and I’ve got this weird feeling here—” she rubbed her fist against her chest “—and when he’s talking I can’t concentrate because I’m always thinking about—”

“About?”

“Stuff.”

“Stuff?” Eva put her fork down. “You mean sex?”

“Why is that a problem?” Paige looked baffled. “If you both feel the same way then what’s stopping you getting together?”

“The fact that I’m bad at relationships.
Really
bad. If I was going to have a relationship the
last
person I’d have it with would be someone like Matt.”

Paige finished her cake. “Someone you care about and do, in fact, like.”

“That’s right.”

“And find seriously hot.”

“Right again.”

Paige put her plate down. “Frankie—” her tone was patient “—most people would think that meeting someone
you like and find hot is a good place to start a relationship from. But you’re saying that makes them wrong for you?”

“Yes. If—
when
—I mess it up, it would really matter. None of the guys I’ve had bad relationships with before have mattered. I haven’t cared enough for it to matter. That’s what made them perfect.”

“No, Frankie,” Paige sounded exasperated, “that is what made them less than perfect. Are you seriously saying you’d rather have a relationship with a guy you don’t care about and don’t find attractive than with a guy you really like?”

“That’s what I’m saying.”

Eva opened her mouth and closed it again. “Do you even realize how crazy that sounds?”

“Why is it crazy? When I mess up a relationship with a guy I don’t particularly like and have no feelings for, no one gets hurt. It doesn’t matter. Everyone walks away intact. It would be different with Matt. I
like
him. I care about him. With Matt it would matter. One of us, or both of us, would get hurt.”

“So your brilliant master plan is to carry on having relationships with guys you don’t like so that when it all goes wrong it doesn’t matter.”

“Exactly. And now that you understand the problem, I need you to tell me how to fix it. Do I ignore it and hope he ignores it, too? Do I talk about it face-to-face? Tell him I’m not interested?”

“You
are
interested.” Eva finished her cake. “And he already knows that.”

“He can’t possibly know that.”

“Matt is an experienced guy and you are a terrible liar.”

That possibility hadn’t occurred to Frankie. “You seriously think he knows?” She put the cake down untouched.

“Yes, but that’s a good thing.”

“It is not. If he knows, I’m going to have to move to the Arctic.”

“No one is moving anywhere. I have a better idea,” Paige said. “Take the next step and see what happens. You want to kiss him, so kiss him.”

“There is no way I would kiss him. It would kill any feelings dead.” Frankie thought about it. “Which I suppose might be a pretty effective way of handling this situation.”

“Why would it kill feelings?”

“Because kissing is one of those things that looks amazing in the movies and is deeply disappointing in real life. But it could be the perfect answer. If we kissed, maybe we’d both realize it was a
big
mistake and get on with our lives.”

There was a brief silence.

“Brilliant idea,” Eva said casually. “Go for it. I’m sure you’ll both be cured in an instant and we can all go back to normal. Now eat your chocolate cake and let’s watch something on Netflix.”

M
att was on the phone when he heard the door. Still talking, he opened it, hoping it was Frankie. Preferably dressed in her underwear.

His sister stood there. She was wearing a tailored dress and her perfectly smoothed hair told him she was on her way to a meeting. It was Monday morning, and he knew her day would be planned, hour to hour, because that was how Paige lived her life.

He scanned her face, instinctively checking her color.

It was a habit he’d developed years before when her color had often been an indicator of her state of health. Pale skin and lips with an ominous blue tint had set off alarm bells. She’d been born with a heart condition and even now, after successful surgery and years of good health, he found it hard to break the habit.

It made him overprotective, a trait he knew drove Paige crazy.

That didn’t bother him. The way he saw it, part of an older brother’s role was to drive his sister crazy.

He stood to one side to let her in and finished his phone call. “I’ll increase the order if you’ll halve the cost.” He waved a hand to the coffee machine and Paige strolled across the kitchen and poured herself a mug while Matt negotiated a price he could live with.

When he finally ended the call she was sipping coffee, her hands wrapped around the mug.

“I’d forgotten how good you are at driving a hard bargain. I still remember the residents of Puffin Island muttering dark threats when you raised your prices for cutting their grass in the summer. You were fourteen years old.”

“There was a lot of grass and it was a hot summer.” He scrolled through the ten emails that had dropped into his inbox during his call. “Much as I love reminiscing, I have a meeting in an hour and it’s probably going to take me an hour and a half to get there. Is everything okay? What can I do for you?”

“It’s more about what I can do for you.” She lowered her mug slowly. “I can help you.”

His sister was a born organizer—a skill, in his opinion. That was one of the reasons her business was guaranteed to be a success. The downside was her tendency to try and organize him along with everything else.

“I appreciate the thought, Paige, but I already have more business than I can handle.”

“I’m not talking about your business. I can’t help you with that. I can help with your love life.”

He already had his staff interfering with his love life. The
last thing he needed was his sister’s input. “I don’t need help with my love life.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“You think you know more about how to run my love life than I do?”
Stupid question,
he thought and saw her smile.

“I know I do.”

“Let me put this another way,” he said carefully. “What makes you think you have the
right
to interfere with my love life?”

“Maybe because you interfered with mine?”

He couldn’t argue with that.

“I thought that was water under the bridge. I seem to recall that I groveled for a humiliating length of time.”

“I didn’t find it humiliating. I found it satisfying. It’s not often that you admit you’re wrong.”

“It’s a family trait. And you have a cruel streak.”

“I’m your sister. It’s in the job description.”

“I’m starting to miss the time when you were too ill to argue with me. Look, I’m willing to take whatever is coming to me but you’ve chosen a bad moment to take revenge. I told you I have a meeting.”

“This isn’t about revenge. I really can help you. And you owe me. I fixed the babysitting problem for your Roxy.”

“She isn’t
my
Roxy, and I put you in touch with a great dog-walking business, so I figure that makes us even. And I can handle my own love life, Paige.” This time he wasn’t joking. “There’s nothing wrong with my judgment.”

“Are you sure? Because you proposed to Caroline.”

“Ouch.” Only a sibling would have thrown that in his face.

“It’s the truth, but don’t be too hard on yourself. You were blinded by blond hair and an impressive rack. The blood
drained out of your brain and landed—well, we both know where it landed. That doesn’t matter now. She was completely wrong for you, everyone knew that, and you had the sense to end it. But when you find a woman who is perfect for you, it’s important not to mess it up.”

He knew what was driving this conversation. He’d seen it before, when Paige had been sick, when Eva had been bullied—the three women stuck together like Velcro.

“We’re talking about Frankie.”

“I’m glad to know there’s still some blood left in your brain.”

“I can handle it, Paige.”

“Mmm.” Sounding unconvinced, she took another sip of her coffee. “So how’s it going?”

Familiar with every nuance in her tone, he put his phone down on the table. “Has she said something?”

“I’m a woman. I’m your sister. And I’m not stupid.” Her eyes lit up. “I’m so excited. My brother and my best friend.”

“Paige, it’s not—”

“No, and it never will be if you don’t let me help! And if you’re about to tell me that this is none of my business, don’t waste your breath. You owe me this one.”

Matt forced himself to clamp his mouth shut.

“Fine. Interfere. But this is a onetime thing.”

“I prefer to call it helping.”

“I don’t care what you call it—I’d rather deal with this my own way.”

“Even if your way sucks and will probably ruin your chances
and
your friendship with Frankie? Relationships have always been straightforward to you. All you have to do is look at a woman and she goes weak at the knees. Don’t
ask me why. I don’t get it, personally. Not that I’m saying you’re hideous or anything—”

“Thank you.”

“One of your exes did once tell me that your unique appeal is that you look like a bad boy but inside you’re a good guy. Which gives a girl the best of everything.”

Matt was intrigued. “Which ex-girlfriend?”

“I always protect my sources. But what I’m saying is that you’ve never had to think about it. You’ve never had to work at it. You pretty much picked who you wanted.”

He was starting to find the conversation more than a little uncomfortable. “Paige—”

“Frankie isn’t like that. She finds relationships scary, and you’re freaking her out, Matt! Don’t think about our experiences, or our parents’, think about Frankie and what her life has been. Her father had an affair with a woman barely out of college, and Frankie was the one who virtually nursed her mother through her meltdown. Since then she has seen her mother hop from one lover to the next like a rabbit on steroids. It’s hardly surprising she thinks relationships are doomed. And she doesn’t want to doom a relationship with someone she cares about. You need to take it slowly. Stand back and let her come to you.”

He’d tried taking it slowly and he’d realized that if he waited for her to come to him he’d be waiting forever. He had no intention of doing that.

“I know what I’m doing, Paige.”

Paige topped up her coffee. “Dating has pretty much always been an embarrassing and humiliating experience for Frankie. You’ve put her on her guard, Matt. Why do you think she didn’t want to join you on the roof terrace last
night? You pushed her out of her comfort zone and she was all hot and bothered.”

Good.

He wanted her hot and bothered. He wanted her out of her comfort zone.

“I’ve got this, Paige.”

“Matt—”

“I said I’ve got this.”

“Men! Fine, be stubborn. But don’t blame me when it all goes wrong.” Paige finished her coffee and put the empty cup on the counter. Her gaze fixed on an invitation propped on a shelf. “What’s that?”

“Wedding invitation. Sounds as if you’re seeing plenty of those right now.”

“Only as part of work.” She picked it up. “Ryan, Emily and Lizzy? The guy is marrying two women?”

“Lizzy is Emily’s daughter. Adopted daughter, although I think they might be related. Niece or something.” He picked up his laptop and slid it into his bag. “It’s Ryan Cooper. Do you remember him? We were at school together. The family lives in—”

“Harbor House. I love that place. It has incredible views over Puffin Point. I babysat Rachel Cooper a couple of times.”

“That was a while ago. She’s teaching at Puffin Elementary now.”

Paige scanned the invitation. “So Ryan is getting married and it’s a beach wedding. Lobster bake. Dancing at the Ocean Club. Sounds like the perfect way to spend a summer weekend. Puffin Island at its best. It’ll be fun. You’re going?”

“Yes. Ryan is a friend. It should be a great weekend.”

She put the invitation back. “The invitation says ‘and guest.’ Who are you taking?”

He hadn’t planned on taking anyone, but an idea took root in his mind.

“I’m taking Frankie.” It would do them both good to get away from the city. New York in the summer was heaving with tourists and the heat was suffocating. Sea air would be welcome.

Judging from his sister’s expression, she didn’t agree. “Frankie wouldn’t go to Puffin Island if she was drugged and unconscious.”

“Why not?”

“First, there’s the fact that this is a romantic beach wedding and we both know how much Frankie loves romantic weddings. And then there’s the biggest obstacle of all—”

“Which is?”

“Frankie hasn’t been back to the island since she left for college.”

“You’re exaggerating.” Conscious that he was going to be late, Matt picked up his phone and slipped it into his pocket.

“And you’re annoying! She’s my best friend, Matt. I’d know if she had been back.”

He stilled, shock trickling through his veins like ice water. “You’re serious? She’s never been back to the island? Not once?”

“No. Why would she? It doesn’t have happy memories for her.”

“But—” He dragged his hand over the back of his neck, trying to process this new information. “Shit.”

“Well, that’s eloquent.”

“I thought—”

“What did you think?”

He’d thought that he knew her, but he was starting to understand just how little he knew.

And how much he wanted to know.

“I think it’s time she went back.”

His sister gave him an exasperated look. “You’ll never persuade her, but what if you did and then someone was mean to her? Have you thought about that?”

“No one is going to be mean to her.” He kept the sudden rush of anger firmly leashed.

“How do you know that?”

“Because I’ll be there. The whole time.”

Paige rolled her eyes. “Mr. Protective. Are you taking a white horse and a suit of armor?”

“No. Just my natural charm.”

“You’re annoying sometimes.”

“You’re annoying a lot of the time.” But he saw the anxiety in her eyes and relented. “I know she’s your friend, but you’re going to have to trust me on this.”

“But—”

“I said you’re going to have to trust me.” He scooped up his jacket. “Now, go and meddle in someone else’s love life because you’ve spent long enough on mine.”

Frankie had only visited his workshop a few times before. A large space beneath his offices, he used it for storage and also for any construction work that couldn’t be done on-site.

The doors opened onto an outdoor area stacked high with planters and paving slabs. A few large trees stood tall in their tubs, ready to be delivered to his various ongoing projects.

Today he was working on the second of three log benches
that were destined for the roof terrace. James and Roxy were working on-site so Frankie and Matt were on their own.

Frankie tried not to think about that.

Instead, she stared at the thick tree trunk. “Cedar?”

“Red cedar.” He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket. “It’s pretty easy to shape and will withstand the extremes of temperature.”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She’d lived through plenty of New York summers and winters.

“It’s going to look great.”

“I think so.” He measured the log and made some calculations. “While I do this, why don’t you take a look at the planters? See if there is anything there you think will work. If not, we can design something specifically to fit the space.”

“Okay.” She’d spent the last three nights planning the talk they were going to have. The one where she told him he had to stop looking at her and standing so close to her and all the other things he was doing that disturbed her equilibrium. But today he seemed to be more preoccupied by his work than by her.

She dropped to her haunches to take a closer look at a terracotta planter. Deciding it wasn’t right for her needs, she moved on and paused by the log bench he’d already completed.

Like his sister, he had a high attention to detail, and it showed. The piece was a testament to his skills as a craftsman and designer.

She glanced across to where he was turning the thick tree trunk into a stylish rustic seat.

Watching him work was like watching an artist. He used a level to measure where to make the cuts, his movements careful and precise. Only when he was satisfied that he had
the line he wanted did he pick up the chain saw. He flipped down the visor on his helmet and moments later the sound of the saw cut through the air. He’d been using a chain saw since his late teens, when his father had realized this was more than just a hobby and had made sure he was properly trained.

She remembered him being called out to help on numerous occasions when heavy snow had felled trees on the island where they’d lived. Like other members of the community, Matt had waded in and helped without question.

It seemed he hadn’t lost any of his skill. He didn’t just carve the bench, he understood the wood. He knew its strengths and weaknesses. He understood how to make the best product and his eye for style and design was faultless.

He cut the basic outline and then shaped it. Every cut had to be just right. Every angle perfect. It was fascinating to watch him work.

For a brief unsettling moment Frankie had a vision of him in bed with a woman. He’d be good, she thought, and immediately looked away.