by Wren Mingua
As soon as the car stopped, Chris threw open the door and raced toward the house. "I'm going to the game room!" he declared.
"O-okay..." She looked toward the backseat of the car, where Chris had deposited his backpack. In the unlikely event that he had some homework, she would have to return it to him later.
When Zoe got out of the car, she thought she heard horse hooves, and she wondered if she was losing her mind. Then she spotted Ben in the distance, riding toward her on horseback. Horseback?! For a moment, she wondered if she had stepped into a time warp. He was even dressed a bit like a Victorian hero, in a button-down white shirt, black trousers, and calf-high brown boots. The only thing he was missing was a pair of overlong sideburns, then he would look like the Mr. Darcy of her dreams.
"Mr. Bingley is more like it," she whispered a correction.
As he approached, Ben dismounted his horse like it was second nature. He grabbed his horse's bridle and made his way toward her. His tousled blonde hair was adorably windswept, and the sun made his brown eyes glow like amber. "Zoe." His greeting was cool and impersonal.
"Ben." She kept her eyes on his horse. It had been a long time since she had seen an equine up close and personal. It was a huge animal, strong and powerful, with almond-shaped eyes and a meticulously groomed mane. "Where did you find your friend?"
"The horse?" he asked with a chuckle, patting the animal on the nose. "Didn't you know? The stable's over there." He pointed behind the mansion house, at a large, fenced-off structure.
She didn't know why she was surprised to discover the Easthams had horses, since they were obviously loaded. "And you just... decided to go for a ride?"
"Yeah. Why not?" Ben started running his fingers through the horse's mane, a gesture that had her feeling a bit envious. She wondered what it would be like to have his fingers in her hair. "I won't be here much longer, so I thought I'd live it up while I can."
"Wait... what do you mean?"
"I won't have horses where I'm going, that's for sure," Ben continued. "I'm looking for a place in London. I can't live off of my brother's welfare forever, can I?"
"I... oh." Zoe didn't know what else to say. She was strangely disheartened by the idea of Ben's potential exodus. "When are you leaving?"
"I'm not sure. It depends on several different factors."
"Oh. Okay." She kept her gaze on the horse, because she didn't want him to see the disappointment in her eyes. "So, does the horse have a name?"
"Rass Berry," he said. It was an appropriate name. The horse had a unique auburn coloring, not unlike a raspberry. "But I just call him Rassy for short."
"Rassy," she repeated. "Do you go riding a lot?"
"Not often enough."
When Ben started stroking the animal's neck, Zoe couldn't tear her eyes away from his fingers. He had beautiful, masculine hands, and impossibly long fingers. His hands were so large, she could imagine him engulfing her entire head in the palm of his hand.
"So, how was your trip to the pub? Did you have a good time with, uh..." Zoe paused for a moment, pretending to forget the girl's name. "Elly?"
Ben's eyes twinkled with delight. A few seconds later, he accused, "You're jealous, aren't you?"
"What?!"
"You're jealous of Elly," Ben insisted. "I can spot female jealousy from a mile away!"
Zoe made eye contact with the horse and shook her head, as if the animal could somehow relate to her frustration. "Why in the world would I be jealous of her? She was kind of--" Trashy. That's what she wanted to say, but she didn't want to be rude.
"A chav?" Ben finished.
"A chav? What the hell is a chav?"
"Oh. Right. I keep forgetting you're an American," Ben said. "A chav is a... well, it's a bit difficult to explain. You'll have to Google it."
"Okaaay. Anyway, you didn't answer my question. Why would I be jealous of her?!"
"Because she was with me," Ben said, "and you secretly want me. I can see it all over your face."
"Riiiight. Okay. You keep telling yourself that, Ben, if it makes you sleep better at night," Zoe said with a roll of her eyes. There was, of course, some truth in what he was saying. Deep down--deep, deep down--she might have had a secret desire for him. But that certainly didn't mean she was jealous of Elly.
Or was she?
"Did you want to sit in my lap, Zo?" Ben thrust a long finger in the direction of a bench. "We can go over there, if you'd like."
"What?! Why would you think I want to sit in your lap?!" Zoe exclaimed. "Seriously, Ben, this needs to stop. Okay? You can't keep flirting with me like this! I work for your brother, and I'm way, way too old for you."
"I disagree," Ben said, sighing. "But... no matter. To answer your question, yes. We did have a wonderful time at the pub. You should have come."
"Maybe next time."
"How is Chris? Was his first day of school everything he hoped it would be?"
Zoe sneered. "I don't think anyone's first day of school is ever that great. In fact, he seemed kind of depressed."
"Really?" Ben gave the horse's head a brisk scratch. "What's an eight-year-old got to be depressed about?"
"I have no idea. Do you think you could get him to open up to you? He sure won't open up to me!"
Ben started stroking Rassy's mane again, and her inexplicable feeling of envy started creeping back in. She wanted Ben to stroke her hair. She wanted to sit on Ben's lap. She--
In an attempt to derail that train of thought, Zoe swatted herself on the head. Which, of course, made her look like she was going mad.
"Are you alright?" Ben asked.
"Uh... yeah."
"Why did you just hit yourself?"
"A bug," she said. "I think there was a bug."
"Really? I didn't see any bugs."
"I heard it buzzing," she insisted. "Anyway, we were talking about Chris. Do you think you could pull him aside and talk to him? You'd be a good big brother type. I think he admires you."
"And why on earth would anyone admire me?"
Because you're handsome and fun and charming and young and--
"I have no idea," she answered.
"Alright. I'll have a chat with him," Ben said. "In the meantime, would you like to go for a ride with me?"
"A... ride?" Her eyes slid back to the horse. "You don't mean--"
"On the horse," Ben finished. "Have you ever ridden a horse before?"
"Uh... no." Zoe started inching away from Ben and Rassy, hoping to purge that ridiculous notion from his mind. "I'll see you later, Ben. I've got things I need to do, so--"
Ben mounted the horse with such ease, he put her in mind of a storybook knight. When he was in the saddle, he extended a hand toward Zoe. "Come on. It'll be fun."
"I highly doubt that."
"Come on, Zoe!" He flicked his fingers on the extended hand, motioning for her to come closer. "Live a little. Do something you've never done before. Don't you want to go riding off into the sunset with a handsome gentleman?"
"Where's the sunset?" Zoe twirled around, pretending to look for his sunset. "Where's the handsome gentleman?"
"Awww." Ben pouted. "You really don't think I'm handsome? Not even a little bit?"
"Oh, you're handsome enough... but I don't know about you being a gentleman."
"I'm a perfect gentleman!" he claimed. "Come on. Ride with me! I promise I'll keep you safe. I'll have my arms around you the entire time."
Tempted by the prospect of having his arms wrapped around her, Zoe stepped forward. Against her better judgment, she reached for his hand, and when she did, he pulled her onto the horse. He held her on his lap, as if she were riding sidesaddle, and he kept his arms around her waist.
"This is nice and cozy, isn't it?" Ben asked with a smirk. "Tell me you're not enjoying yourself."
"I'm not enjoying myself," she semi-lied. When Ben coaxed the horse into a trot, it became a full-fledged lie. When the horse started moving, she let out a shriek. "Oh god... don't go so fa
st!"
Ben laughed. "This isn't fast! This is what we would call a trot."
"It seems fast," Zoe observed. "Isn't there another speed? One called molasses or something?"
Ben pulled her closer and gave her a squeeze. "Calm down, Zoe. Do you always have to be so..."
"So... what?" she pressed.
"So tense," he finished. "You just need to relax. Let someone else take care of you. I promise I won't let anything bad happen to you."
"You mean I'm not going to fall off the horse and break my neck?"
Ben chuckled. "No! Of course not!"
So she finally allowed herself to relax in his arms. And when she did, she had to admit--
It felt nice.
Chapter Twelve
Excerpt from Zoe's blog--
Do you know what's embarrassing? Since I've been here, I think I've seen Jerry Springer on three different channels. It's no wonder they have a derogatory opinion of Americans! At least we have the Jeremy Kyle show to even the odds a bit. Fortunately, Americans aren't the only ones in the world who don't know their baby daddies.
Zoe couldn't sleep. Her insomnia couldn't have come on a worse night, because when she had insomnia, it usually meant she would wander the halls. On this night, she wandered into more than she bargained for.
Zoe started her journey in the kitchen, where she foraged for a midnight snack. She leaned against the wall, nibbling on an apple cinnamon muffin, and that's when she heard the shouting.
"STUPID G--"
"--STROUS TART!"
She popped her head out of the kitchen and tried to eavesdrop. It seemed she was making a habit of eavesdropping, but it wasn't her fault. Gemma and Lewis made it too tempting, and far too easy. They were having a row, and made no attempt to hide it.
But the action was happening at the other end of the hallway, so it was impossible to make out what they were saying, even though they were screaming at each other. Zoe gobbled the rest of her muffin and tiptoed down the hallway, toward the source of the argument.
The first thing Zoe heard was the sound of breaking glass. Gemma must have thrown something, possibly a vase, at her husband.
"You're trying to kill me now, are you?" Lewis screamed. "You've gone mad!"
"I SHOULD kill you!" Gemma shouted. "It would be the least you deserve! Do you really have to flirt with everything with a cunt?! You're horrible to me!"
"Gemma! Gemma... calm down! You'll wake Chris!"
"As if I care!" the wife squealed. "He should know his father is a cheating arsehole! How many times have you cheated on me, Lewis?! How many!?"
"Oh, as if you haven't cheated on me!"
"That was five years ago!"
Zoe couldn't believe her ears. It was like an episode of the Jeremy Kyle show as unfolding in front of her, right on the other side of the door! She felt like she had hit the jackpot--which would have been a wicked thought, if not for the fact that Gemma was a despicable human being, and Lewis was hardly her favorite person in the world.
"How long are you going to lord that over me?" Gemma shrieked. "You've cheated on me HOW many times since then?"
"Only twice!" Lewis declared. "I am NOT cheating on you with the nanny!"
Zoe's mouth dropped open, and her heart missed a few beats. She hadn't expected to creep into the conversation. Did Gemma truly think she was having an affair with her husband? Zoe had half a mind to storm into the room and support Lewis' claim, but if she did that, they would obviously know she was spying on them and she couldn't have that.
"Bollocks!" Gemma shouted. "I see the way you look at her!"
"I might LOOK, but that doesn't mean I'm cheating!"
"I know why you hired her... unqualified American twat!"
Zoe only heard part of what Gemma had said, but she had heard enough! Unqualified? Twat? Her fists were involuntarily clenching at her sides, and the blood in her veins was boiling. She wasn't even attracted to Lewis! Where did Gemma get such crazy ideas?
"For once, I just wish you would appreciate me!" Lewis shouted. "Appreciate everything I've given you!"
"And what exactly have you given me, Lewis? Genital warts from one of your whores?!"
Zoe winced. Genital warts?! It was more information than she ever wanted to know.
"I hate you!" It was Gemma again. "You bastard!"
"If you hate me so much, why don't you LEAVE!"
"Oh, you want me to leave, do you?!"
"I do! If you left, you'd be doing a favor for everyone who lives here! You're mental, Gemma! You're an unhinged, lazy, useless, heartless CUNT!"
Once again, Zoe heard the sound of breaking glass. She thought she heard Lewis squeal, which could only mean Gemma didn't take kindly to his insult.
"You just want to be alone with your slut!" Gemma shrieked. "I hope you die, Lewis! I really do!"
"Great! Because that's exactly how I feel about you!"
"If there is any justice in the world, YOU'LL die first... so I can piss on your grave!"
Zoe thought she heard someone stomping toward the door. Not wanting to get caught, Zoe opened the door to the nearest room and ran inside. It happened to be a bathroom, and it happened to be occupied. Chris was standing in front of a mirror. He wasn't wearing a shirt, his eyes were red-rimmed with tears, and he had bruises all over his little body. At least some of the bruises must have been self-inflicted, because she caught him in the act of punching himself.
"Chris!" Zoe shrieked. She grabbed the boy's shoulders and spun him around to face her. He had an enormous bruise, purple and brown and blue, on his stomach. "What are you doing?!"
"None of your business!" he wailed. "Go away!" Tears were racing down his cheeks, dripping down his neck.
"Are you hitting yourself?!"
"No." But she knew it was a lie, because he was punching his arm when she entered.
Zoe wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, but she knew the affection wouldn't be welcome. The poor boy was more troubled than she realized, and his parents were the obvious culprit. "Honey... don't hurt yourself. It's not worth it."
"Shut up!" He tried to shove her out of the bathroom, but she was much bigger than him, and impossible to move.
"Where did you get that?" she pointed at the bruise on his stomach.
"Shut up!" Chris yelled. He had a set of lungs on him that would give his parents a run for their money. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
"Chris..." Zoe laid a hand on his head, on his sloppy hair. "I care about you, and I don't want you hurting yourself. I'm just trying to help you."
"Why would care about me?! I'm not even nice to you!"
His words surprised her. At least he was right about one thing--he wasn't nice to her.
"You only care about me because you're paid to care!" Chris turned around, because it was easier to cry to his reflection in the mirror. "Nobody cares about me!"
"Oh Chris... that isn't true."
"It is!" He leaned forward, watching the tears drip from his eyes. "And don't try to tell me my parents care, because I know they don't!"
"Your Uncle Ben cares about you."
"No he doesn't..."
"And I'm not paid to care about you..." Zoe protested. "If your dad fired me tomorrow, I would still care about you."
"He's not going to sack you. He fancies you."
Zoe sneered. She wondered if Gemma had been telling him that, or if he'd gathered that information from his parents' foul-mouthed feuds.
"Why don't I take you back to bed? We can talk tomorrow..." Zoe laid a hand on his back and nudged him toward the door. "Do you have a shirt?"
"No."
"You never told me how you got that bruise on your stomach."
"No," he repeated. "And I'm not gonna." As they stepped through the doorway and headed down the hall, they were silent for several seconds. When they were back in his bedroom, Chris said, "My mum's going to leave, you know."
"I--" Zoe didn't know what to say. She was just the nanny, and she ha
dn't been here for very long. She felt like a stranger intruding on their domestic disputes. "We don't know that for sure..."
"She is leaving," Chris insisted. "You heard it, didn't you? They're going to get a divorce."
"Well..." As she watched Chris scramble into bed, she was truly at a loss for words.
"But it's alright," Chris said with a shrug. "Maybe it's for the best." He tugged the blankets to his chin, and Zoe went to tuck him in. To her surprise, he didn't protest. He didn't even complain when she leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.
"You're really not going to tell me where you got those bruises?"
Chris shook his head.
"Alright... then I won't nag you." Zoe capsized. "But if you did that to yourself, please, please don't do it anymore!"
Without another word, Chris rolled over, which left Zoe no choice but to back out of the room. As soon as she closed the door, she spotted Lewis heading down the hallway in her direction. "Great," she whispered to herself. "Now I'm really not going to be able to sleep tonight."
"Zoe." If she had hoped to avoid a confrontation, it was already too late. "You're still awake?"
"Y-yeah. I couldn't sleep." When she started heading down the hall, she assumed Lewis would follow her--which he did. If Chris was really trying to sleep, she didn't think they should carry on a conversation right outside his door. "You know, this might not be the best time to say this, but I'm worried about Chris. I think he might be hurting himself. I just ran into him, and he had all these bruises and--"
"Gemma is leaving me," Lewis said, completely ignoring her concerns about his son.
"Oh..." Zoe weakly feigned surprise. "I'm sorry to hear that. Are you... okay?"
"Of course I'm okay!" Lewis exclaimed. "I'm glad to be rid of her... the bitch."
"Oh. Uh... wow." How else was she supposed to respond to something like that? "Well, I'm glad to hear you're handling it well. Did you hear what I said about Chris?"
"She really is a cold, heartless, selfish woman. She never gives a thought to anyone but herself," Lewis went on. "These last few years, she's really made my life a living hell. I know you haven't been here very long, but... be honest with me. Didn't she make your life difficult?"
