by Wren Mingua
Chris shrugged. “I dunno.”
“Are you ready for bed?”
Chris puckered his lips, trying to conceal the fact that he was yawning. “No. Not really. I'm not tired yet.” When Chris settled his gaze on her, his little blue eyes were full of fury. “Do you think you could leave now?”
“Aww. Am I bothering you?”
“Yes.”
Zoe grabbed a copy of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory from the shelf. It had been ages since she had read it, and for some reason, the title was making her salivate. She had heard some British people say that American candy was awful, but she thought British candy left something to be desired. There was nothing quite as satisfying as a plain, old Hershey bar. “Have you read this before?” she asked.
“No. But I've seen the movie.”
“Which one? The Johnny Depp one or the classic?” Zoe asked. “Because I prefer the classic one myself.”
Chris rolled his eyes at her question.
“Sooo, anyway...” Zoe sat at the end of Chris' bed, even though it was probably the last thing he would want her to do. “Would you like me to read it to you?”
Chris' response was adamant. “HELL no.”
“Hey now! That's not very nice!” Zoe opened Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and started reading the first page to herself. She tried to put on a brave face, but there was only so much negativity she could stomach. “And you should watch your language.”
“Fuck no,” Chris said. There was a cheeky grin on his lips, as if he was flaunting the fact that he was testing her patience.
“Chris! I'm serious! Watch your mouth!”
“How can I watch my mouth? I don't have a mirror,” Chris said, still smirking.
“Look, Chris... the fact of the matter is, you're stuck with me... at least for awhile,” Zoe said. “We can try to get along, or you can keep trying to make me miserable. It's your choice.”
“I think I would prefer to make you miserable,” Chris snidely replied.
“Your dad wanted me to read to you, so--”
“My dad is a stupid git.” Chris sat up, twisted the book out of Zoe's hand, and tossed it across the room. “Now, if you would be so kind... leave. If sleeping is the only way to get you out of here, then I'm going to sleep.”
“Okaaay...” How long could she let him talk back to her, use foul language, and boss her around? If he kept it up, she would need to come up with a way to punish him. But nothing too harsh—even though he could probably use it. “I'll see you tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately.”
“Would you like a hug goodnight?” she teased him. “A big, fat kiss?”
“Nooooooo!”
Just to spite him, she leaned down and kissed his forehead. He threw out a fist, which barely missed her face. “Goodnight.”
Chris rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. “Go away!” he murmured into his pillow.
With nothing left to say, Zoe turned off the light and slipped out of the room. As soon as she stepped into the hallway, the music intensified. The bass was vibrating the ground with so much force, she swore she could feel her teeth rattling. There was no way Chris could sleep with all that noise.
Zoe stormed down the hallway in search of the music. She hated to be a spoilsport, but she needed to get Ben to turn the music down. As she followed her ears to the music, she passed a twenty-something couple, devouring each other with their hands and lips. Zoe sidestepped the amorous partygoers and continued down the hall.
Zoe pushed open the door to the game room, where most of Ben's mates were clustered. Ben was sitting on the couch, sandwiched between two bottle blondes. One was sitting on his lap, kissing his neck. The other woman was standing behind him, combing her fingers through his hair. Ben had lipstick stains all over his face, likely from the two trashy bimbos beside him.
She approached him unabashedly. “BEN!”
“Ohhh... Zoe!” he moaned. Ben pushed the blonde from his lap and hopped to his feet. He staggered a bit, most likely because he had been enjoying a few drinks. He certainly smelled like he had. “I meant to invite you... I cuddint find you,” he slurred.
“Uh... that's okay.” She looked around the room, where twenty or thirty kids in their early twenties were dancing, drinking, and grinding against each other. She might have enjoyed this sort of thing when she was in college, but not anymore.
Actually, she wouldn't have enjoyed it even if she was Ben's age. She was never the sort to go out and drink and party. She tried beer once, but hated the taste. She tried marijuana once, but it wasn't her thing. Apart from a few minor incidents, Zoe never ventured from the straight and narrow. She was certain there were a few illegal drugs being passed around the room—definitely some cannabis.
“Beeeennn!” one of the bottle blondes cooed. “I miss your lap! Come back!” She wriggled her butt against the sofa, which made her skimpy red dress ride up even higher.
He stared at the woman, then he stared at Zoe. Clearly, he was at an impasse. If he wanted a shag tonight, which he most certainly did, his choice should have been obvious. However, his interest in Zoe, even in his current state of inebriation, far outweighed his desire to hook up with a random tart. He took Zoe by the elbow and led her away from the crowd, and the sight of her frowning face seemed to sober him up a bit.
“Is something wrong, Zoe?”
“Yes!” She had her arms crossed again. “The music's too loud. Chris is trying to sleep.”
“He can hear it all the way up there?”
“Yes!”
“Alright. I'll turn it down...” Ben glanced around the room. In the distance, a few young people let out a whoop of excitement. He hated to deprive them of their fun. “In a bit.”
“Do it NOW!” she insisted. “You wouldn't want someone blasting music while you were trying to sleep, would you?”
“Cummon, Zoe!” Ben whined, still slurring a bit. “It's not like he's got to wake up early tomorrow! It's not like he has school or something! It's a Friday night!”
“It's a Thursday night.”
Ben's face pinched together. “Izzit?”
“It is.” Zoe uncrossed her arms and pointed to the giant sound system—the source of the cacophony. “You don't have to turn it off... just turn it down. It would be nice if the bass wasn't jiggling my boobs from clear across the other side of the house!”
“I--” His mind's eye image of her jiggling boobs had him temporarily tongue-tied. “Wot?”
Zoe marched over to the sound system. If he wouldn't do it, she would have to turn it down herself! She found the dial and cranked it down several notches. When she was done, she returned to Ben—but he wasn't alone. Two other boys, about Ben's age, had accosted him. One of them, a rat-faced redhead, leapt onto Ben's back. If he wanted a piggyback ride, he wasn't going to get one. Ben knocked him off and punched him in the arm.
“Hey... Zoe!” Ben tried to call her over, but she was suddenly feeling reluctant. “Come here. I want you to meet some of my mates.”
Zoe approached with caution, and the rat-faced redhead grinned at her. Ben's other friend was a stocky brunette, whose handsome face was marred by a few patches of acne.
“This is James,” Ben said, slapping the redhead on the shoulder. “As you can see, he's a ginger. Try not to hold it against him.”
“This ain't ginger!” James protested, running a hand through his thick, messy hair. “It's strawberry blonde!”
“And this is Jordan,” Ben introduced the other bloke, who seemed to have a pleasantly calm disposition. “Not much to say about him, really.”
Jordan held out a hand to Zoe, which she gladly accepted. It was nice to see a gentleman in the midst of the madness. “You must be Zoe, right?” Jordan asked. “It's a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise,” Zoe agreed.
“Zoe... the nanny?!” James squawked. “You're right. She is pretty fit!”
So Ben had been talking about her, at least a little bit
. She didn't know if she should be flattered or irritated. “I turned your music down,” she reported.
“Honestly, I was expecting a minger. Ben said you were hot, but he usually has terrible taste,” James went on. “Is it true you're an American?”
Zoe chuckled. He made it sound like being an American was something close to legendary. “I am.”
“Nice.” James said, gaping at her like a slack-jawed fish. His eyes shamelessly scanned the length of her body, and when he was done gawking, he winked at her. “I thought nannies were supposed to be homegrown. Like Mary Poppins and shit."
“Not me,” Zoe said with a shrug. “I'm American, through and through.”
All of a sudden, Ben wrapped an arm around her, as if staking his claim on her. He didn't want his friends moving in on his prey.
“I like Americans,” loquacious James continued. “Especially American woman. They're the most gorgeous women in the world... aside from Italian women. And Brazilian women.”
“Ohhh... Italian woman!” Jordan echoed. Maybe he wasn't as much of a gentleman as she had hoped?
“I don't care about other women,” Ben said. He smiled down at her, but she wasn't paying attention to him. “I only care about Zoe.”
Zoe ducked out from under Ben's arm. She eyed the door, wondering how she could excuse herself without sounding rude. Standing around with a bunch of obnoxious 21-year-olds wasn't exactly her idea of a good time.
“Would you like a drink?” Ben asked.
“No thanks.”
“You sure? I'll go get one for you.”
“I'm good,” Zoe insisted.
James held out a rolled-up joint, confirming her suspicions about the cannabis. “Spliff?” he offered.
“Uh... no. I'll pass.”
“Alright.” James sucked on it, then he passed it to Jordan. “If you need anything, love, let me know. Especially if you want what's in my trousers.” He illustrated his comment with a thrust of his crotch.
“Heeey,” Ben cautioned him. “Leave Zoe alone.”
“I can't help it. I like the American nanny,” James said. “You know I like older women.”
“Zoe doesn't like younger men,” Ben said, pouting. “She already made that quite clear.”
Zoe started feeling a bit light-headed, as if their intoxication had somehow been transferred to her. She needed to leave. “Well, Ben... I better get going.”
“Awww. Leaving so soon?” It was Jordan who protested. “But you just got here! You're the most interesting girl in this room. Just look around.”
Zoe did as she was told; her eyes drifted around the room. She spotted the bottle blondes, a girl with spiky magenta hair, and a girl in a barely-there top. Jordan was right. She probably was the only decent female in the room.
“Would you care to touch me, Zoe?” James asked. “Because I'd love to tell everyone I was touched by an angel!”
“What kind of pick-up line is that?” Ben chuckled.
“A good one, wasn't it?” James grinned at her, possibly the dopiest grin she had ever seen. “But I'd rather touch her. Specifically, I wouldn't mind touching her bum.”
Zoe started inching away from them. They were like animals. Drunk, immature, mindless animals.
“The only one who'll be touching Zoe's bum is ME!” Ben declared. To prove his point, he swatted her rear end and gave it a squeeze.
Zoe's jaw dropped. “Did you seriously just slap my butt?!”
“Ohhh, come on!” Ben laughed. “It's all in good fun. Why don't you lighten up a bit, Zo? You're not that old. If you keep acting like a dried-up old crone, you'll never have any fun!”
All she could do was glare at him. Perhaps he would realize, once he had a chance to sober up, that he had crossed the line. “Goodnight, Benjamin.”
“Are you angry? Seriously angry?” Ben reached for her, but she pulled her arm away. “Come on, Zoe. Give me a kiss. Let's kiss and make up!”
Even James was shaking his head at Ben. He could tell his friend was taking the situation from bad to worse.
“It was nice meeting you two,” she said to James and Jordan, though her words were hardly genuine. “Goodnight.”
“Nice meeting you too,” said Jordan.
“Have a great night, love!” James shouted at her as she fled. “Dream of me when you sleep! I know I'll be dreaming of you!” When Zoe was gone, Ben punched him in the arm. “Ow!”
Chapter Eight
Excerpt from Zoe's blog--
Now I know how Cinderella felt. I have one ugly stepsister, and she has bright red hair. Kind of like a clown.
Lewis was always gone. In fact, Zoe hadn't seen hide nor hair of him in two days. She had no idea what he did for a living, only that he made a ton of money, and it required him to be in meetings for most of the day.
Gemma, however, did nothing. She laid around on the couch all day, sipping cocktails and watching Hollyoaks. She had adopted a new favorite pastime; however, which involved ordering Zoe around.
“Get me some crisps.”
So Zoe wandered off to the kitchen and opened the cupboard where they kept their “crisps.” When she returned, Gemma snatched the bag out of her hand without uttering even the merest word of thanks.
“Pour me another drink, please. The bottle's over there.” Gemma lifted her glass and waved it, as if she was signaling a servant. Of course, Gemma could have easily moved from the couch, walked across the room, and poured a glass for herself. It was much more satisfying to watch the nanny do it.
Zoe filled Gemma's glass and laid it on the table.
“Oh... and Zoe?” Gemma pointed to the window, where a strip of light was seeping through the blinds. “Will you close the curtains? The light is making the telly a bit hazy.”
Yes, master. She was tempted to say that to Gemma, but she held her tongue. She was starting to feel like a maid, not the nanny. She didn't realize she would be at Gemma's beck and call.
Zoe snapped the curtains shut, then she spun around. “Anything else, Gemma?” Zoe asked, hoping the lady of the house would pick up on the hint of sarcasm in her voice.
“No. I think that'll be all. But—OH!” Gemma took another sip of her drink and sat up. “You mentioned something about taking Chris on a little outing. I think that would be brilliant. Do you think you could do that?”
Of course, Gemma's desire to schedule an outing for her son was mired in self-interest. She just wanted the place to herself, sans Chris.
“I... don't mind,” Zoe said. And she really wouldn't have minded, if not for the fact that Chris hated her, and every word out of the boy's mouth made her more and more miserable.
“Oh... and we've been meaning to tell you... the spare car is at your disposal,” Gemma said. “It's the Audi R8. The key is over there on the table.” Gemma flicked a hand in the general direction of the key. “Chris has his first day of school in a few days, and you'll be using that car to pick him up. As for your outing, if you could leave sooner than later, that would be great.” Her eyes never wandered from the television screen, not even for a moment.
“Do you have any input on where I should take him?”
Gemma didn't say anything.
“Any input at all? Broughton Castle? Blenheim Palace? Some place I haven't heard of?”
Still nothing.
“Alright then...” Zoe grabbed the key and studied it for a moment before slipping it into her pocket. “I guess I'll be leaving then.”
“Oh, and Zoe... before you go...” Gemma's voice trailed off for a moment. “If you don't mind, would you get me a slice of chocolate cake? Thanks.”
* * *
After delivering the cake to Gemma, Zoe took a moment to decide where she wanted to take Chris. She had been leaning toward Broughton Castle, and she was almost swayed by the fact that part of Shakespeare in Love had been filmed there. However, she wanted to visit a medieval castle, and Broughton wasn't really a castle—more like a medieval manor house. A quick search on Google co
nfirmed that Blenheim Palace would be the more impressive option.
As she was heading off to fetch Chris, she ran into Benjamin in the hallway—much to her dismay. She stared at the wall as she walked, but it was too much to hope he would pass by without a word. Even if she didn't make eye contact, he wasn't going to let her get away.
“Zoe.”
Maybe a quick and jovial greeting would be enough? “Hi.”
She tried to walk by, but he grabbed her arm. “Zoe... wait. I need to talk to you.”
Zoe had no choice but to turn and face him. “Okay then. Talk.”
“I'm really sorry about last night,” Ben apologized. “My friends were terrible... especially James. And I was terrible. I had a few too many drinks, but that's no excuse. I acted like a jerk, and I'm sorry.”
“It's okay, Ben,” she said with a shrug. “It's not like I've never had my butt slapped before.”
“You aren't angry?”
She was more vexed than angry. His behavior was inappropriate, and he had crossed the line—especially in front of his friends—but it would take more than that to make her angry. “No. Not really.”
“Does that mean I can touch your butt again?”
Zoe snickered. “Uh, no.”
“Damn.”
Zoe slipped her hand into her pocket and clutched the key, reminding herself she had somewhere to be. “Anyway, I've got to go. I'll see you later.”
She started walking again, and he trailed after her. “You look like a woman on a mission. Where are you going?”
“Blenheim Palace,” the answer slipped out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about it. What if he invited himself along? It would be like having two little boys under her supervision, and she didn't need to make her job more difficult.
Then again, didn't Chris have an affinity for his uncle? Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all.
“You wanna come?” she asked.
“Um...”
Ben's hesitation made her frown. She assumed he would leap at any opportunity to spend time with her. Why had she made that assumption? It wasn't as if he really liked her—even though she secretly wished he did.
