Frankie’s cheeks turned pink. “I kind of like to bake.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. I should have known it involved sugar.
“Yum, what’s your favorite thing to make?”
“Cupcakes,” she replied. “But it’s just a hobby.”
“Have you ever been to the Iced Princess?” Rosalyn asked.
Frankie’s eyes lit up. “That is my favorite place ever.”
“What’s the Iced Princess?” I asked.
“This ultra-fabulous cupcakery about an hour or so away.”
Frankie nodded. “There’s nowhere else like it.”
The two ladies launched into some discussion about cupcakes and pink and I totally tuned out. I was about to change the subject when someone walked in front of the window by our table.
All the air in my lungs seemed to disappear.
It was the same girl from the other night. From the charity ball.
Long blond hair, willowy figure. She was alone, her hands stuffed into a royal-blue coat. As I watched, she stopped walking, directly in front of our window and pulled a beeping phone out of her pocket. She glanced at the screen and smiled—I knew that smile—and glanced up.
Our eyes connected.
Hers were green.
My body jerked like it had been shocked and my mouth went bone dry.
The woman turned away and started walking again. I craned my neck to watch her until she disappeared from sight.
“Charming, are you okay?” Frankie was looking at me with a funny look on her face.
I cleared my throat, glancing at her hand, which was resting on my forearm. The Target was watching me as well. “I’m fine. I thought I recognized that woman, but then I realized I was wrong.”
“Some people just have those faces,” the Target was saying. “You know the kind that everyone thinks they know.”
Frankie agreed with her and removed her hand from my arm. I kind of wished she’d left it there another moment. It made me feel grounded.That looked just like her.
It wasn’t. And I wasn’t going to do this. Not now. Not here. I finally had my chance to get in with the Target and I wasn’t going to let anything blow it for me.
The waiter came around and took out orders and then came back with drinks all around. After that I tried to keep the conversation about the Target, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to appear interested but also maybe learn something about her that could be useful.
Frankie kept butting her big mouth in to talk about shoes, celebrities, and TV shows.
“Speaking of clothes,” Rosalyn said, turning away from me to look directly at Frankie. “I loved the gown you were wearing at the ball. Where did you get it?”
“Oh, there is this great little vintage shop downtown. Not many people know about it.”
“We should go!” the Target exclaimed.
The two made plans to go shopping that weekend and I couldn’t help but feel like Frankie was trying to move in on my Target.
When Rosalyn got up to use the ladies room, I leaned in close. “Quit being nice,” I growled in her ear.
She made a face. “Not everyone has the disposition of a turd like you do.”
