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 person
al 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 playing the guilt card?” And it worked, because she knew that if it wasn’t for all these new, unfamiliar feelings she would have helped Matt in an instant. Not only because it was a way of avoiding all the bridal showers they had booked that summer, but because he was a friend and Paige was right. She would always, always help a friend.
“Is this about the whole glasses thing? Has my brother upset you? Is that why you don’t want to help?”
“No.” Heat spread around the back of her neck. “He’s a great guy. Strong, principled, decent—” and insanely hot.