Sunset In Central Park by Sarah Morgan Page A

kept it to herself.
    It wasn’t something she ever intended to share. Not even with her closest friends. The time for that was long past.
    “Can you imagine if Matt had overheard that? I’d definitely have to move to Seattle. And I hate the way she calls us
girls
as if we’re all eight years old. I don’t think a woman of fifty-three should call herself a
girl
. There’s something undignified about it. Or delusional. I’m not sure which.” Struggling with emotion, she dived back into the store and rubbed her hand over her cheek. Her eyes and throat burned. “I can’t bear it. Another rich guy the same age as me. And why don’t these men ever say no?”
    “I don’t know, but it’s not your problem.” Paige rubbed her arm gently, her voice warm with sympathy. “I’m sorry we bumped into her.”
    “So am I. All she ever talks about is sex. She loves embarrassing me.”
    “I don’t think she’s thinking about you at all. She’s thinking about herself.”
    “Let’s change the subject. Talk about something. Anything.” Frankie focused on the bright blooms. Flowers always calmed her. Nature was never embarrassing. “Talk about you. Please. Or work. Work is good. As long as it’s not weddings.”
    “Did I tell you we won that piece of business for New York fashion week? They emailed me late last night.”
    “That’s a real coup. The event is in September?” Frankie made a huge effort to push her mother out of her head.
Use it or lose it,
she’d said.
    Frankie had lost it. She’d definitely lost it.
    “Yes. It will be our biggest event yet, so that’s a piece of good news.”
    “That is good news.” Her heart was beginning to slow. The awful burning humiliation receded, but still the words remained.
Use it or lose it.
The phrase was buried in her head like a tick burrowed into an animal’s fur. What was the rule when you’d never really had it? How could you use something you didn’t know what to do with? Other women her age were generally sexually experienced. Frankie’s experience boiled down to a few awkward embarrassing encounters from which she’d been relieved to walk away. And the detail of those was something else she’d never shared with anyone. “How are things with Jake?”
    “Good. He’s pressing me to move in with him.”
    “Oh.” The four of them had lived together in the brownstone for a long time. Frankie realized she hadn’t given any thought to that changing. “How do you feel about that?”
    “Mixed feelings. I love being with Jake and his apartment is spectacular, but I love Brooklyn, too.” Paige hesitated. “And I’m worried about Eva.”
    “Me, too. She was pretty emotional at that bridal shower the other day. But she’s doing better than she was at Christmas.”
    “She puts on a brave face, but she misses her grandmother horribly. She pushes through the day, but she still cries at night sometimes. I hear her.” Paige stood back to allow someone carrying a large plant to pass them. “I can’t imagine how it must feel to have no family at all. Eva told me the other night that she feels like a boat that slipped its moorings. She’s bobbing in the sea alone.”
    Frankie felt a flash of guilt. “Now I feel terrible for complaining about my mother.”
    “Don’t. Your mother makes everything worse, not better.”
    “But at least I’m connected to someone. What do we do about Eva?”
    “I wish she’d meet someone. And before you frown, I know relationships aren’t everything, but I think that’s what she needs. She needs to find someone who appreciates how special she is. She needs a family of her own.”
    “I wouldn’t want her to meet anyone right now. She’s vulnerable. What happens when it all goes wrong? She couldn’t take the heartache.” The thought of Eva hurt made her own chest ache. “She’s so trusting.”
    “Not all relationships end in heartache, Frankie.”
    “Plenty do, and it would break Eva. What if she falls inlove and the