In a New York Minute(68)

I waved them off with my hand.

“Hi,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant and like I hadn’t spent almost an hour composing a two-sentence text with my best friends.

“Franny, hi,” Hayes said, and his gentle voice instantly hit a soft spot inside me.

“Hi,” I said again.

“I thought hopping on the phone might be easier?”

“Sure,” I said, my voice chipper. But I felt a twinge of disappointment that I wasn’t going to get to see him in person, which was not at all what I wanted to be feeling. I pushed it aside. Not now.

“Hayes, look. I’m sorry for being so wildly unprofessional last night.”

Oh god, I sounded absurd. And he sounded…quiet.

“It’s just that,” I said quickly, desperate to fill the awful, humiliating silence, “I think I should stick to being professional with you for now, if that makes sense.”

“Oh,” he said, like he was trying to figure out a puzzle. And then, “Of course. I totally understand that.” His tone had shifted quickly. Now he was all business.

Was he relieved? I couldn’t tell. “Just ’cause, you know, I’m trying to focus on my work and business,” I added.

“Yes, I completely get that. And I am, as well. Working…and all that.”

“Oh, well, cool. Thanks for understanding.”

We were both quiet, and when he didn’t say anything, I added, “Good talk.”

I heard him chuckle at this, and I winced. Why did I always say the weirdest things?

“Good talk indeed.”

“’Kay. Well, bye, Hayes.”

I hung up before I could hear how he decided to say my name.

“Ugh, that was so awkward,” I groaned, letting my head collapse in my lap. “Did I really just say ‘Good talk’?”

Lola leaned up off the floor and squeezed my knee. “It happens to the best of us. Remember Gaby? When I broke up with her, I told her to ‘Keep fighting the good fight.’”

“Well, whatever,” I said, my voice shaky. “At least that’s over with.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Lola shoot Cleo a look, but neither of them said a word.

Later, long after they’d left, I played last night’s kiss over in my head, just one more time. The feeling of his suit against my hands, the calm I felt just leaning against him, the moment when I turned around to run back to kiss him, soft and quick but with an undeniable urgency. The thought of it left me thinking throughout the night, analyzing and doubting my decision. The last thing I remembered thinking as I drifted off to sleep was that I’d made a huge mistake.





Chapter Twenty

Hayes



It was 5:30 p.m., and the sun was still high in the sky. My mind should have been focused elsewhere. I was supposed to head out to Seattle in a few days, for a big pitch meeting with possible investors. We needed them on board to grow the company, and Eleanor, salesperson extraordinaire, was staying behind in New York on her doctor’s orders. It was on me to nail the pitch and get them excited about working with us. Plus, we’d gone ahead and planned a bunch of walk-throughs of possible office spaces, along with meetings with analysts, the first people we’d hire to add to our new team.

But despite all the craziness at work, my thoughts were only filled with Franny. It had been five days since she’d ended things before I’d even had a chance to ask her out, six since she kissed me in the middle of the sidewalk, and approximately 98 percent of those waking hours I’d spent replaying our interactions in my head, reimagining the soft curve of her back under my palm, the brush of her hair against my chin, the warmth of her hand wrapped in mine.

I’d been so nervous on the phone with her that day that I hadn’t been able to get out the words I wanted to say: I like you. I’m glad you kissed me. I want to do it again and again and again. Maybe my silence had pushed her away. Or maybe she didn’t want anything to do with me romantically.

Either way, it was all-consuming, this urge to just lay eyes on her again, rewind things to the beginning, start all over, before the gala, and the kiss. I would go right back to that moment she walked into my subway car. I would steer her away from the door so her dress didn’t rip. I would give her my number, invite her to a proper meal out.

But I also wanted to respect Franny’s wishes. She was just starting her business; she had important things to focus on. I got it. And maybe her kiss was just an in-the-moment thing, the mix of alcohol, and the party, and the energy of the night.

Yet I still hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, and the excitement I felt that I’d get to see her tonight was causing my heart to race. I still wanted to bask in her light, in whatever way I could get it. Perhaps that made me greedy, but I’d rather have a little bit of Franny as opposed to none at all.

Knowing I’d see her soon made me move quickly, and I zigzagged my way across the West Village and SoHo at a clip until I arrived in front of the small Mexican restaurant Perrine had invited me to for this “getting-to-know-each-other” dinner.

“Hayes.” I spun around quickly, worried that if I took my time the voice—and the person it belonged to—would disappear. I blinked just to be sure, but she was standing in front of me, her hands propped on her hips, one of which was jutting out ever so slightly. She was in a flowy light-blue floral dress that billowed around her. She looked like an annoyed toddler, and I loved it.