In a New York Minute(31)

“Okay, so”—she scraped the bottom of her Italian ice cup and dipped the spoon in her mouth one last time—“I had a meeting about a possible design job. A nursery.”

“Seems like something you could do in your sleep,” I said, attempting a compliment.

She gave me a confused look, brow furrowed, as she stopped by a trash can to toss her spoon and cup. “No, it would actually be a pretty big deal.”

“I just assumed you were already swamped with work requests.” Great. I’d insulted her again.

“Right…” She trailed off. “But this nursery job would be a major get for me. So I’m nervous. And then, right after this meeting, I got an email from my landlord about my rent going up.”

Her voice was higher now, agitated.

“Oof.” I brought my hands to my chest in pretend pain.

“Exactly!” she said, her arms open in agreement.

“Well, I believe in you,” I said decidedly. “You’ll get the job, and you’ll figure your rent stuff out.”

She looked at me with a perplexed expression.

“Is that weird to say?” I asked.

Of course it was weird. It was too much, too forward. Once again, I was tripping over my tongue around this woman. I never said stuff like this to Perrine, much less to people I didn’t know.

I stopped at the crosswalk as the cars whizzed by, and when I turned to look at Franny she was smiling. Phew.

“I mean, yeah, because you barely know me,” she said. “But also it’s really what I needed to hear right now. So, no, it’s not. And thank you.”

And then, the bulbous green lights denoting the N and R subway station were in front of us. We walked down the steps side by side.

“You’re going uptown?” she asked.

“Yes.” It wasn’t a lie. Not exactly. I lived uptown, but I had been planning on running home. It felt weird not to be up-front with her, but I really wanted to keep the conversation going.

“Hey, so, I’ve actually been meaning to contact you about something.”

“Okay.” She had her MetroCard already in hand. “What’s up?” Her gaze narrowed. “Is something wrong with your suit jacket?”

“What? No.” I had hung it up in the back of my closet after she handed it to me and hadn’t touched it since. “The jacket is fine.”

She wiped fake sweat from her brow with a smile and then dropped her hand, eyeing me expectantly.

The words were bottlenecked in my mouth. My brain tried to force them out, as if it were slapping the bottom of a ketchup bottle. “I wanted to apologize if I was weird, when we did the interview. I mean, I was weird. Not if. I was. And for what I said about you not being my type. I just felt very out of place, and my words got all mixed up. So. I’m sorry.”

She studied me, sucking her cheeks in, shifting her frown into a scowl. Just as my stomach started to twist with nerves, her face blossomed into a smile.

“We’re cool,” she said finally, giving me a playful push on my shoulder.

“Yeah?” My face flushed with relief.

“Of course. That whole morning was weird.” She fiddled with her MetroCard in her hands. “Well, obviously not for some of us.” Her eyes widened, and she ran a hand through her hair, tucking it behind her ear. It was shorter than I remembered. Darker too.

I realized I was staring, and blinked to recalibrate. “Oh, you mean my cousin and…”

“Lola,” she said.

“Lola, right. Yeah, they’ve only made it weirder.”

She laughed at this, which felt like a win.

“Well, hey, I accept your apology—again.” She leaned toward me and gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze. “And I hope you have a nice life.”

It was a funny thing to say, yet her voice was completely sincere.

“I hope you have a nice life too, Franny. And a nice night.”

And then, with a swipe of her MetroCard, she was off through the turnstile, lost back to the city that had given her to me.

*



Franny was still on my mind the next morning, our conversation on replay in my brain, ready for me to analyze and obsess over. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, and that alone felt off for me. Even work wasn’t distracting me like it normally did. And so I texted Serena and asked if she was able to bump up our first date by a few days and meet after work today instead. We’d talked briefly on the phone last week, introducing ourselves and making plans to meet in person. Talking with Serena had been easy and familiar, which was exactly what I needed right now to quell this off-balance feeling Franny had stirred up in me.

We had planned a run around Central Park, which was definitely a departure from my usual meet-for-coffee-or-a-cocktail first-date routine. I felt a slight pang of guilt using a date with Serena as a way to pull my brain out of my thoughts about someone else, but as soon as we hit the pavement I was convinced it had been a good move. She was outgoing and did the bulk of the talking, but she also seemed to genuinely enjoy the run and she laughed at my dumb running jokes.

“I’m in charge of understanding fashion trends, picking jewelry and accessories for shoots and features, scouting the market so I know what should be in the magazine each month,” Serena said, her blond ponytail swinging gracefully down her back.