“I don’t jump for joy.” Kids did that. “And, honestly, I’m not sure how I feel about leaving my assignment unfinished.”
“Well, isn’t that as curious as finding an original Hermès scarf in the bargain bin at Target,” Ms. Birdie mused, her voice laced with mischief.
Frankie scowled. “Why do I get the sense you’re poking me on purpose?”
“I can’t help but notice your hesitation,” Ms. Birdie said. “You’re usually decisive. Ruthless, even. Why the dithering?”
Frankie stared at the peeled wallpaper, her stomach twisting. “I’m not dithering. I don’t like loose ends.” And damn it, the biggest loose end of all was Marcus. The way he’d tossed her aside, like she was nothing but a failed experiment. That wasn’t something she could leave unresolved.
“And what loose ends would those be?”
“If I leave now, it’ll feel like I quit halfway through. And Mr. Uptight will forever think I wasn’t good enough to survive small-town life.”
“Hmm. Since when do you care what anyone thinks? Especially a man with no sense of humor.”
“I don’t care about his opinion. I care about mine. That aside, there’s Rae—” The name slipped out before she could stop it. Damnit. Why in the world would she put her life on hold for a teenager with a pain-in-the-ass attitude?
“Ah,” Ms. Birdie purred, savoring the opening. “Tell me more about Rae. Does he have a last name?”
“Not a he, a she,” Frankie snapped, furious with herself for even bringing up the delinquent. “Small-town life fits her about as well as it fits me. I’ve offered to help her figure out how to style on a dime.”
“Frankie, that’s fabulous. I’m so proud of you. In fact, take notes. Turn your time with Rae into an article, and we’ll run it in the magazine’s first issue after your return.”
Was she really considering staying in Gi Gi’s Crossing to prove a point to Mr. Uptight and to help a kid with fashion trauma? God, she needed an intervention. Or aspirin.
“If I stay, I want guarantees that you won’t get a wild hair and give Isabella my position.”
“I’m offended by your lack of trust in my word,” Ms. Birdie replied smoothly.
Frankie relaxed, tension loosening. “So, this isn’t you trying to edge me out and hand the throne to your golden child?”
Ms. Birdie and Isabella were as tight as Skims on a whale.
“Honey, Isabella’s filling in because she cares about you. She wants you to have time to regain your balance. She’s one of the few who’s asked me for the realreason you threw a stiletto. She never bought the ‘clumsy model’ story.”
“You didn’t tell her the truth, did you?” Frankie snapped. It was a secret for a reason.
“The truth isn’t a bad thing. It humanizes you. But to answer your question, no. I’ve not told a soul. As far as the fashion world knows, you’re the face of unapologetic passion. Hence, our cover rebuttal.”
“If I were a man,” she said, “I wouldn’t be here. Mr. Uptight would have scheduled a strategy meeting, not sentenced me to the psychological penalty box.”
“You’re not wrong,” Ms. Birdie said. “If you ever meet him in person, you can share your thoughts directly. In the meantime, are you staying or coming home?”
Frankie rubbed her temples, thoughts swirling. Five more weeks. Thirty-five days of her life. Was she really about to give them up for a promise to a teenager? Or would she vanish on Rae the same way her father had vanished on her and Mom?
“I’ll stay,” she said finally. “I may be many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. I promised Rae I’d help, and I’m going to keep that promise.”
And as a bonus, she could spend those weeks slowly driving Marcus crazy with regret for ever walking away from her bed.
Ms. Birdie let out a satisfied hum. “Lovely. I think you’ll find the next five weeks…refreshing.”
Frankie narrowed her eyes. “You sound suspiciously pleased.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Ms. Birdie’s smile was audible, even over the phone. “You always make the most interesting decisions when you follow your heart. Now, I’ve got to go. Ziggy just arrived, and the way he’s fidgeting, my morning meetings are about to be rearranged.”
The line clicked dead, leaving Frankie alone with her pounding head, her twisting thoughts, and a creeping suspicion Ms. Birdie had just maneuvered her into something she couldn’t see yet.
And then, like a hangover boomerang, came the vague memory of last night. Her and Ziggy…planning a friendship club.
