“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?”