Sleepless In Manhattan. Sarah Morgan

careless dismissal of her anxiety irritated her as much as his pity would have annoyed her.

      “That’s easy for you to say with millions in the bank, more work than you can handle and an apartment to die for. Some of us still have rent to pay.” It was a crass, stupid thing to say and she instantly regretted it, especially since she knew her response was driven by frustration about her feelings for him as much as anything else.

      “How do you think those millions got there, Paige?” He didn’t bother masking his irritation. “You think I woke up one morning and found myself wealthy? You think I logged on and discovered someone had transferred several million into my bank account? I built my company through hard work, graft and determination. And I pay my own rent. I always have.”

      There was a loud noise as Frankie dropped a pot on the terrace. It shattered, sending pieces flying.

      Matt nudged Claws off his lap and stood up. “Those pieces are sharp. Don’t cut yourself, Frankie.”

      “I’m fine.” Frankie kept her head down and scooped up the pieces while Matt watched her steadily.

      “Is this about the rent?” Matt asked. “Because you don’t have to worry about that. You can pay me when you’re back on your feet.”

      A flush spread across Frankie’s cheeks, clashing with her vivid hair. “I can pay my rent.” Her voice was fierce. “I don’t ever need a man to pay my rent.”

      Paige knew she was thinking of her mother and presumably so did Matt because he paused for a moment, and then spoke carefully.

      “I’m not offering to pay your rent. I just wanted you to know that there is no hurry for payment. Anytime is fine. Wait until you have a job again. It’s a loan.”

      “I don’t need a loan. I can pay my way.” Frankie scooped the shards of pottery into a bag, and then must have realized how ungrateful she sounded because her shoulders sagged. “Look—”

      “You don’t have to explain.” Matt spoke quietly. “I understand.”

      Paige saw the brief flash of misery on Frankie’s face and realized that it was precisely because her brother understood that Frankie was so mortified.

      Everyone who had known Frankie growing up knew the lurid details about her mother.

      Every new episode had killed Frankie and it still did, even though she was no longer living on a small island where her mother’s bedroom activities were a source of local legend.

      Frankie breathed deeply. “That was rude of me and I apologize.”

      “Don’t apologize. I said the wrong thing.”

      Eva’s eyes filled and she sprang from the chair and hugged Matt. “You didn’t say the wrong thing. I love you, Matt. You’re the best. Why aren’t there more men like you in Manhattan? Ow.” She pulled back as Claws swiped at her leg with a threatening hiss. “The only thing wrong with you is your cat. Why didn’t you adopt a friendly, loving cat?”

      “Because that cat didn’t need a home. This one did.” Matt lifted Claws away from Eva. “You need to give her time, that’s all. She’ll do okay once she learns she can trust us.”

      Eva looked doubtfully at Claws. “Matt, that cat is never going to trust anyone. She’s psychotic.”

      “We all have reasons for being the way we are. If we’re patient, she’ll come around.” He was stroking the cat but Paige noticed that his eyes were on Frankie.

      Jake handed Eva a glass of champagne. “That cat has saved Matt a million times from predatory women poised to take advantage and bleed him dry. She’s better than a bodyguard.” He scanned the table of food. “Don’t you have chips, Ev? Something greasy that’s going to clog my arteries?”

      Frankie pushed her glasses up her nose, leaving soil on her cheek. “Not all women are predatory.”

      Jake’s hand stilled over the bowl. “It was a generic comment. What the hell is wrong with you? I know you’ve had a tough day, but that’s no reason to turn into Cactus Woman.”

      Paige was about to say something soothing but her brother gave a brief shake of his head and walked over to Frankie. He dropped to his haunches next to her and said something.

      Paige couldn’t hear the words but whatever he said earned a quick smile.

      Frankie murmured something back to him and Paige relaxed.

      Whatever her brother had said seemed to have calmed things down.

      He had a knack for saying the right thing.

      Jake reached for a beer. “To playing it safe.”

      Paige ground her teeth.

      Jake, on the other hand, had a habit of saying what he thought, regardless of time or place.

      She felt like emptying her champagne over his sleek, dark head. As usual he seemed to be deliberately trying to goad her.

      “Your bedside manner needs serious attention, Jake.”

      “I’ve never had complaints.” Dark lashes shielded the glitter of amusement in his eyes and the spasm of sexual awareness shocked her. She should have been used to it by now. Kissing Jake had featured large in her fantasies for almost a decade, even when she’d tried hard to switch the fantasy to something less dangerous. She imagined him using all that raw power and muscle to pull in a woman, all that charisma and hot sexuality to make sure she never wanted to step away. Although she’d long since stopped hoping anything would happen between them, she’d discovered that sexual attraction wasn’t something you could easily switch off. There were days when she wished he would kiss her just so that she could stop fantasizing. Everyone knew reality never came close to fantasy and she would have given a lot to have her illusions crushed.

      The breeze lifted her hair and sounds of laughter drifted up from the streets below as people walked home after a night out. Lights glowed in windows, dogs barked, a siren shrieked and a car door slammed. Life went on.

      She thought wistfully back to this time yesterday. She’d been planning what to wear for her interview, excited about her promotion, planning the future.

      And now she was unemployed.

      What was she supposed to do tomorrow? Get up, get out of bed and do what? Spend the day job hunting? Even if she found another job, it wouldn’t be with her friends.

      She tried to imagine how it would feel to not be working with Frankie and Eva.

      “How much money would I need to set up a business?” She blurted out the words, her heart racing.

      “You’d have some up-front costs,” Jake said. “Mostly legal. I’m willing to pay for that. I believe in you.”

      Matt rose to his feet and sent Jake an incinerating glare. “Get him a bowl of chips, Ev. Enough to fill his mouth so he can’t speak.”

      “I want him to speak.” Paige knew that if she wanted a straight answer, she had to talk to Jake. He didn’t protect her the way her brother did. “You really think I could do it?”

      “If you adjust your attitude.” Jake took a swig of beer. “You’re too risk-averse. You cling to control like a climber on a rock face. You want guarantees and you won’t find them running your own business. You want safe, and there is no safe. There’s risk, a ton of hard work, sometimes for nothing. Businesses fold every day. It’s not for the fainthearted.”

      If she’d been Claws, she would have scratched him. “I’m not afraid to take a risk if it’s for something I want badly enough. And there’s nothing wrong with my heart. It’s as strong as yours.” And it was beating hard in her chest, as if to back her up.

      Why not?

       Why not?

      An idea