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In a New York Minute(75)

Author:Kate Spencer

“Brave of you,” Eleanor said with an admiring look.

We stepped out in front of our new building, gliding through the lobby and up to the fourth floor, where Tyler was directing people lugging in the trays of charcuterie and cheese we’d ordered from a small catering business deep in Brooklyn.

“Wow,” Eleanor said as she circled the space. “It looks amazing in here.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Tyler said, in full party-planner mode, clipboard in hand as they hovered over a platter full of fruits and vegetables organized like the colors of a rainbow.

Members of our team started trickling in, fresh from the pregaming that had taken place at a bar down the street. The reporters from Vogue and Architectural Digest checked in, along with photographers from New York magazine and Vanity Fair.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Perrine and Lola saunter in, hands linked. And behind them, Franny, red-lipped, hair everywhere, arms crossed, face beaming. She was in some sort of olive-green jumpsuit that I knew instinctively Eleanor would love. I made my way over to them, beer in hand, trying not to appear as nervous as I felt inside. I was excited to see her, but I still couldn’t figure out how to show it, or if I should at all.

“Hayes-y!” Perrine yelled as I approached, which was the absolute last thing I wanted her to call me in front of the woman I couldn’t stop thinking about.

“Perrine,” I replied as she grabbed me with both hands for a hug. “Please don’t call me that in public,” I muttered as I leaned in.

She just laughed in response.

“Hello, Lola,” I said as she also came in for a hug. I guess I hugged now.

“Hayes,” she said, planting the slightest kiss on my cheek.

“Hey!” Franny said from behind Lola with a wave.

“Franny, hi!” I leaned forward and then stepped back, unsure of how exactly to greet her. Should I also hug her? Was that too much? Or was it weird if I hugged everyone else and not her? I couldn’t figure out the right move. So we just stood there, staring at each other.

“I’m so glad you—” I started, just as she said, “It looks amazing in—”

“You first.” I gestured her on with a slight wave of my hand.

“I told Lola how hard you’ve been working on this night,” she said with a small smile. “And it looks awesome.”

I shook my head. “We would literally not even be here if it wasn’t for you, so…”

“Well, it looks great,” Lola chimed in, with a side-eyed glance at Franny.

“Thank you,” I said. “I’m glad you all could make it.” I snuck a look back in Franny’s direction. She was beaming as she surveyed the scene, her hands on her hips. This night belonged to her as much as it did Eleanor and me.

“Well, we’ll let you get back to schmoozing,” Perrine said. And with a knowing eye roll to Lola and Franny, she muttered sarcastically, “His favorite thing to do.”

Franny shot me an amused look and then turned and followed them toward the bar.

Eleanor came over and dragged me into a corner for a thirty-minute chat with some investors well-known in the environmental space. I tried to stay focused on our conversation while also watching Franny out of the corner of my eye: Franny sipping a drink, and then another. Franny grabbing two portobello sliders and handing one to Lola with a smile. Franny chatting with Tyler and nodding along thoughtfully as Tyler pointed to different pieces in the giant floral arrangement on the new reception desk. Franny.

*

An hour later, she was next to me, chatting with the reporter from Vogue. “You two have an amazing origin story,” the reporter, a woman named Alicia, with short pink hair, said into her iPhone. “Could you tell us how you met?”

“Hayes helped me out of a sticky situation on the subway,” Franny said, looking up at me with a smile. “So it was only natural that I return the favor.”

“Let’s just say we bumped into each other,” I said, beaming. Every move I made felt too big, too obvious, too clear about the fact that Franny occupied a permanent home in my brain. I’d tried to rein it in for so long, out of not wanting to look foolish, or silly, or too in my feelings for her. But now that’s exactly where I wanted to be. I wanted to be obvious, to make it clear, not just to Franny, or myself, but to the world: I liked her.

“Sure.” Franny nodded. “I like that way better.”

“And when we lost our original interior designer at the last minute, Franny seemed like a natural fit. She came in and whipped this place into shape in no time.”

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