In a New York Minute(59)

I nodded. “How about ‘guy your coworker set you up with that didn’t totally work out’?”

“That has a nice ring to it.” She released her hand and sighed. Even though the conversation was drama-free, it was still awkward. I shifted in my shoes, which suddenly felt a half size too small.

She pressed her lips together, her face serious. “I’m sorry if I’ve made this night uncomfortable for you. I’d totally get it if you want to leave.”

“It’s not, and I don’t. I really appreciate your honesty.” I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled.

“You’re a good guy, you know that?” She tilted her head, gave me a kind smile.

I shrugged her off with a smile. “It’s the tux.”

“Well, we’re still sitting together, so”—she looped her arm through mine—“shall we?”

As we moved through the hallway, we passed small exhibits set up along the way: a giant chunk of jade in a glass case, some fossils immortalized in stone. But nothing could ever fully prepare you for the moment you stepped into the Hall of Ocean Life, which was a stunning, mind-blowing place at any time of day. The walls were full of exhibits, but the real showstopper was the life-size blue whale that hung from the ceiling of the massive room, looming over everyone and everything below.

The dinner banter with Serena’s friends was easy, and she booked it to the dance floor with a group of girlfriends once the band started. I decided to check out the silent auction in the back of the room, and I wandered slowly, past tempting descriptions of cabins in Vermont, weeklong wine-tasting trips in the South of France, a brand-new Jeep Cherokee. Finally, I paused in front of a listing for a Tuscan villa and a tour through southern Italy. Franny should get to see Italy someday, I said to myself. She should get to experience that side of who she is, firsthand.

I was so distracted by the thought of her twirling pasta on a fork and smiling at me over a glass of Chianti that I almost missed the sound of someone sighing wistfully next to me. Something about the sound sent my gut reeling, and I twisted my head to the left. I had to blink to be sure she wasn’t an illusion, that my eyes weren’t taking this already strange night and making it stranger still. But the darkness opened back into light, and she was still there.

Franny. Always appearing when I least expected her.

She caught my eye, her head tilting back a bit in surprise. “Hayes.”

“Hi.”

“If you’re coming to save me from yet another disastrous wardrobe malfunction, you’re going to be sorely disappointed. This dress is basically glued on.” Her red lips curved up just the tiniest bit. I gulped and tried to play it cooler than I felt in my gut.

“Well, we’re both in luck, then,” I said, grinning back. “I only have one tux, and I’d like to keep it.”

I fiddled with my bow tie and attempted to subtly take Franny in, head to toe. She was wearing a sleek strapless black dress with a satin ivory bodice. It was elegant and timeless, a delicate necklace her only adornment. Her hair was still in a halo around her head, but it was secured with two small pearl barrettes, and her eyes seemed even brighter than usual.

“Cleo—one of my best friends—her mom is one of the cochairs of the gala. Has been since Cleo’s dad died of ALS thirteen years ago,” she blurted out, even though I hadn’t yet asked why she was there.

I nodded, and she continued, talking quickly. “This is how her mom has some control over the situation, I think. Trying to help people.”

“That makes a lot of sense,” I said, trying to sound calm. The last thing I wanted was for her to know how nervous I felt. Admitting how I felt about Franny to Perrine meant those thoughts were now out there in the world, alive. And that felt terrifying.

“I’m tagging along to ‘network.’” She said this with air quotes. “Cleo’s mom is hopefully going to introduce me to some fancy people.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she said this. “And maybe even the team who decorates for the event.”

“Well, I hope you can have a little bit of fun too,” I said, before glancing back down at the Tuscan villa. “What are we bidding on tonight?”

“We are not bidding on anything, because we just started our own business and we need to make money, not spend it, and also we are not nearly as loaded as the rest of these rich uptown types,” Franny scoffed, complete with a full-on smile that sent my heart bouncing.

“But if we were bidding…” I leaned in, not letting it go. “Italy?”

She rested her lips on the edge of her glass of champagne. “Definitely Italy.” She thought for a moment. “I’ve always wanted to go, but now more than ever, you know?”

I nodded, and we stared at each other.

“I hope you get to go someday,” I said finally. “Well, um…I’ll let you get back to it.”

“Wait,” she said, her hand suddenly on my wrist. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh.” I wasn’t even sure where to begin. “Well, you know that woman I was seeing?”

“The pretty one who brought the tacos?” I wasn’t sure if it was my brain playing tricks on me, but I swore that there was a sharp edge to her voice when she said this.

I let out a laugh. “Yes, that one. She’s on one of the committees for the event.”