Want! Frankie had an answer. One she’d contemplated since she was eight. What she wanted was to be untouchable, terrifyingly successful, and so fabulous that her father regretted the day he left, which meant returning toNaked Runwayand to the version of herself who didn’t feel anything she couldn’t monetize.
Except, for the first time, she wasn’t sure that was still true.
And if it wasn’t…then what?
She shook off the thought. Of course she wanted her old life back. The magazine. The city. The power. Things you could count on.
“If this is your sneaky way of backing out after promising I could return once I finished Mr. Uptight’s little checklist, prepare for a fight. I don’t go down easy.”
So why did the idea of leaving Gi Gi’s Crossing twist her stomach?
“Darling, I never go back on a promise,” Ms. Birdie said. “Your job awaits. But as your friend, I would be remiss if I didn’t suggest you step back and look at the bigger picture. Maybe add a few new brushstrokes to the new and improved Frankie Peterson.”
Friend. Since when did Ms. Birdie put herself in that category? “You think I’m improved?”
“I am told by a very reliable source that you smile more these days.”
“Ziggy, obviously. That snitch.”
And yet she couldn’t even be mad. Ziggy was Ziggy because he told everyone everything. And she liked that about him. She had never had a friend she could gossip with. Next time she saw him, they would discuss the concept of secrets among friends. Then again, he had rescued her from Melanie.
“It is not important what I think,” Ms. Birdie said. “What matters is what you think. Do you like the changes you’ve made?”
Frankie didn’t like that her heart hurt because of a man. She couldn’t believe she had lowered her guard long enough for Marcus to stomp on it the way her father had stomped on her mother’s.
But…
She had made friends in Gi Gi’s Crossing. That wasn’t awful. And smiling felt like a dopamine hit. Like popping a gummy without the snack cravings.
None of that excused Marcus’s nonsense.
Although she could almost see why he became Mr. Uptight. He had been protecting someone he cared about.
Fine. Maybe there was a tinge of excuse for Marcus’s antics. Fine adjacent. Especially since, if Lola ever told the truth, Marcus would realize the stiletto had been thrown to protect her.
But the privacy excuse? Absolute nonsense.
She could still hear Marcus’s voice, gravel rough and infuriatingly flat.“I didn’t tell you because I like my privacy.”
As if that counted.
She could understand going to bat for a friend.
She could not understand sleeping with her while keeping his life zipped like a garment bag, then ditching her at the first hint of a camera.
“If you’re suggesting I give up everything I’ve worked for to stay in a small town, forget it. I’m not falling for that romcom trap.”
“Heavens, no. I would never suggest that.”
“Then you don’t think I could be happy with a guy like him?”
A beat. “What makes you think he is staying in Gi Gi’s Crossing?”
“Well, isn’t he?”
Another pause. “That is not a question I can answer.”
“All that thinking for that lame-ass response?”
