Sunset In Central Park. Sarah Morgan

it out. Getting wounded creatures to trust you is your special gift. If you don’t believe me you only have to look at that damn cat.”

      “Are you comparing Frankie to a cat?” Matt shook his head. “How did you ever get any woman, let alone my sister?”

      “I used my abundance of natural charm.” Jake yawned. “How’s work? You never return my calls. Are we breaking up?”

      Matt was too preoccupied to smile. “I’m snowed under. I’m in the middle of a big project and I’ve lost a key player.” His skill lay in design and hard landscaping and much of that was already completed. They still had to deal with lighting and furniture. He’d planned three log seats, and had completed one of them. His problem was the planting and it would remain a problem until he could find someone to take Victoria’s place. “I need to try and recruit someone with Frankie’s skills.”

      Jake shrugged. “So ask Frankie.”

      “What?”

      “Why bother trying to find someone like Frankie, when you can have Frankie. If she has the right skills, give her the job.”

      “She already has a job.”

      “So you’ll need to be creative. Find a way.” Jake paused. “The best way to get someone to trust you is to spend time with them. You have the perfect excuse right there under your nose.”

      Matt stared at Jake, wondering why that solution hadn’t occurred to him. “Sometimes,” he said, “you’re not a bad friend.”

      “I’m the best friend on the planet. You love me. That’s why we’re getting married. And we’re going to live happily ever after.”

      “Until I divorce you.”

      “You couldn’t afford to divorce me. We haven’t signed a prenup.”

       Chapter Two

      If you want unconditional love, get a dog.

      —Frankie

      “We had a call from Mega Print. Remember them? We ran their office party last month.” Paige checked all the requests that had come through overnight. “The vice president of sales wants regular dog walking. Can we cover that?”

      “I’m on it. I manage everything canine.” Eva slid into her chair and toed off her running shoes. “Matt recommended a fantastic dog-walking business called The Bark Rangers on the Upper East Side and so far our clients are impressed. The owners are twins. My new favorite game is trying to tell them apart. They’re called Fliss and Harry.”

      “You can’t tell a man and a woman apart?”

      “Harry is short for Harriet. I’ll give them a call.”

      Paige frowned. “Matt recommended them? He has a cat. When did he need dog walking?”

      “The twins’ brother is a client of his. I think they play poker occasionally. Daniel Knight?”

      “The lawyer? I’ve met him. Brilliant by all accounts, not to mention smooth and charming.”

      “Single?”

      Paige laughed. “Very. He’s also as dangerous as they come. Definitely doesn’t mate for life.”

      Eva sighed. “Not my type, then. I’ll have to keep looking.” She perked up as she checked her schedule. “I used to loathe Mondays when we worked for Star Events, but now I love them.” Through the floor-to-ceiling glass behind her, Manhattan basked in a pool of blazing sunshine. Urban Genie operated out of Jake’s company building—he ran a digital marketing firm and had generously let them use one of his boardrooms as they got their own company off the ground. “I love running my own business. And my blog followers tripled overnight so the work side of my life is perfect. Which, of course, means that my love life is totally crap because everyone knows both parts can’t go right at the same time.”

      “You need to teach me how to flirt.” The words came out before Frankie could stop them and Eva stared at her.

      “Excuse me?”

      “Flirt. You know. That thing you do with men without even thinking about it.”

      “Er—it’s true that I flirt if I have someone to flirt with, but it’s been so long since I met anyone I’ve probably forgotten how to do it.” Eva slumped in her seat. “There are so many men in Manhattan. They’re everywhere. And I don’t meet a single one of them. My life is a manless, sexless desert. And the con—”

      “The condom in your purse has expired. We know. You keep telling us.” Paige gave her an exasperated look. “It’s boring, Ev!”

      “It’s a tragedy, that’s what it is. Here I am, a warm, willing woman, and no one wants me. And you’re not allowed to comment, Paige, because you’re getting regular sex.”

      “I’m going to buy you a brand-new condom.”

      “Don’t bother,” Eva said gloomily. “It will only expire again and I’ll feel guilty that it had a wasted life. Anyway, back to flirting. I can rack my brains and try to remember how to do it if that would be any help. Who are you planning on flirting with?”

      Frankie felt her face heat. “No one specific. It’s precautionary training. Like self-defense or basic cookery.”

      “Basic flirting. Flirting 101. No problem. I’ll book you in for a one-on-one session.” Eva reached for her phone. “When do you want to start?”

      “Not now. I need to be in the right mood.”

      “We’ll do it over a bottle of wine. It will loosen you up.”

      “You think I need loosening up?”

      “Let’s put it this way—your starting point is glaring at every guy as if you’re thinking of stabbing him between the shoulder blades with a sharp implement, so we have a way to go.”

      “Am I that bad?”

      Eva exchanged glances with Paige, who shook her head.

      “You’re lovely as you are. Why do you want to flirt?”

      “I hate being tongue-tied when guys say things. I want to memorize a few swift, witty comebacks, that’s all.” She watched as Eva slid her phone into her bag. “Why have your followers tripled?”

      “Not sure. It might have been the photo I posted to Instagram.” Eva opened the drawer of her desk and selected a pair of shoes with heels that could have doubled as a lethal weapon. “I took a photo of a cupcake and it looked delicious.”

      “Were you in the photo, too?”

      “It was a selfie.” Eva slid her feet into the shoes with all the delight of Cinderella discovering the glass slipper fitted.

      “Were you dressed at the time? Because there’s your answer.”

      “I was dressed!”

      Paige was sending a response to the vice president. “Be grateful she wasn’t eating a banana or that might have qualified as Most Embarrassing Moment.”

      Frankie didn’t respond.

      Right now when it came to Most Embarrassing Moment, she had the edge.

      She’d spent the whole of Sunday reliving the moments that had followed Matt’s discovery that her vision was perfect. Feeling as naked and exposed as a snail that had been extracted from the protection of its shell, she’d virtually pushed him out the door.

      Had she even said goodbye?

      She couldn’t remember. All she remembered was planting her hand on his chest—a strong chest, very muscular—and giving it a good, hard shove. Of course, Matt being