Sunset in Central Park (From Manhattan with Love #2) - Sarah Morgan Page 0,56

of hell. See you tomorrow!”

The door closed between them and Frankie returned to her apartment, wondering why she felt uneasy.

Eva was an adult. If she’d wanted company she would have said so.

She took a shower and settled down with her book but for once the words, even those written by Lucas Blade, didn’t hold her attention. She kept thinking about Matt and mingled in there was concern for her friend.

Eva had said she was fine, but what if she wasn’t?

If Paige had been home, she wouldn’t have worried. Paige was so much better than Frankie was at delivering emotional support when it was needed. Not that Frankie considered herself a bad friend because she didn’t. She was rock-solid, loyal and deeply caring in her own way, but she was the first to admit that in an emotional crisis, she wasn’t good. An excess of emotions unnerved her. It always had. Whether she’d been born that way or whether it had been created on the blustery seas of her parents’ divorce she didn’t know, but whenever emotions were intense she wanted to slide into a dark hole and hide until the storm passed. She felt inept and useless.

But tonight there was no Paige, which meant that Eva was on her own.

The thought nagged at her, preventing her from relaxing.

She reached for her phone, wondering if she should text her friend, but then put it down again.

What good would that do? She’d say “Are you okay?” and Eva would reply “Yes. You?”

She was probably deep into a romantic movie.

Impatient with herself, Frankie tried to read her book but she couldn’t focus. Ten minutes later she glanced at the clock.

What if Eva wasn’t watching anything?

What if she’d poked herself in the eye again trying to remove the face mask? Her eyes had been red and—

“Crap.” Frankie sprang off the sofa so fast the book thudded to the floor. Eva’s eyes hadn’t been red because of the mask. They were red because she’d been crying.

Moments later she was hammering on Eva’s door.

This time it took longer for Eva to answer. The face mask was gone but her eyes were still red. “What’s wrong?”

Frankie wanted to say that nothing was wrong with her, but stopped herself. Eva was selfless and giving and was unlikely to put her own needs first. “You invited me in.”

“You hate romantic movies.”

“We can talk. I feel like talking.”

“What about?”

“Stuff—” Frankie floundered. “Problems,” she said vaguely and Eva looked confused.

“You hate talking about your problems. You bottle them up, boil, simmer, kick things around the room. Then you attack them like Boudicca repelling an invading army.”

“Yeah, well, tonight I’m trying a new approach.” Frankie shoved her way through the door and saw Eva’s clothes strewn over every available surface in a rainbow of pastel colors and sparkle. “Oh my—were you burgled?”

“No.”

“Someone emptied out your drawers.”

“That was me. I was looking for my peach silk scarf.”

“Did you find it?” Frankie eyed the piles of clothes, knowing she’d never find anything in that mess. How did one person ever get to wear all of that?

“I think Paige might have borrowed it.”

“And you criticize my clothes.”

“The clothes themselves, not the way you store them.”

“You appear to be using the floor as storage. Do you want help sorting through this stuff? We could hold a yard sale and give the proceeds to damaged cats or something.”

“I’m doing enough for damaged cats by tolerating Claws despite her temper issues, and anyway, everything you see here has importance and meaning. I don’t want to get rid of any of it. There isn’t a single piece here I don’t love.”

“Seriously? What about this—” Frankie snatched up a green knitted sweater. “I’ve never seen you wear it.”

“Gran knitted that.” Eva’s eyes filled and she plopped down onto the sofa, ignoring the pile of clothes. “Sorry. Ignore me.”

“I’m the one who should be saying sorry.” Horrified, Frankie folded the sweater carefully and sat down next to Eva. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I’m clumsy and stupid and Paige will kill me for upsetting you.”

“It’s not you, it’s me. This happens. And it’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. What can I do? Do you need a glass of water? A hug?” Frankie patted Eva’s shoulder awkwardly and felt a rush of frustration. Why was she so hopeless in these situations? “Talk to me, Ev.”

“It’s just a bad moment, that’s all. It will pass. I’ll get through it. I’m using you as my role model.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You and Paige are the strongest people I know.