New York Nights (A Heart of the City romance Book 2)

by C. J. Duggan

  I clicked send, straightening on my stool, feeling empowered by my email. I shut the laptop down and stepped away from it.

  ‘Ball’s in his court, Gracie.’

  Email sent at 2.05 pm.

  Email read at 2.38 pm.

  Current time: 6.01 pm. Still no response.

  Unbelievable.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  I’d decided that, notwithstanding the sleep deprivation and the fear of screwing up Grace’s childhood and doing irreparable damage to her psyche, the most difficult aspect of my job was dealing with Ben, whose selfishness knew no bounds.

  I raged on through the night, and come Friday morning with no reply or any word that he was going to be home on the weekend, I took drastic measures.

  I showered, dressed and got Grace ready for a morning stroll, which was something I had built into her routine. As part of my desperate amount of googling for information on a sleepless baby, I’d read that it was helpful to have your baby associate light and activity with the day and darkness and inactivity with night and the key was exposure to morning light: it suppressed melatonin, a hormone that regulates the sleep–wake cycle so that it peaks at the right time – apparently. After another sleepless night, I was willing to try anything. And, to be honest, my intended destination of Lafayette Street also made my steps a little more determined.

  ‘Come on, Gracie, let’s go pay Daddy a little visit.’

  I don’t know what I planned to say and I tried not to let myself feel like a total bunny boiler by showing up on his doorstep, but I needed to have some answer as to why he’d virtually abandoned his daughter. At the very least he needed to get his shit together and let me know when he would be home.

  I thought I’d managed to cobble together a little speech to give him but, as soon as I came to a stop at the entrance of his Lafayette Street apartment, I froze. My ability to think, to move, to speak fled as I looked at the imposing red-brick building. What was I doing here? If a phone call or an email was only acceptable under life-and-death circumstances then what would an unannounced drop in do?

  Oh God, help me.

  I was wrestling between turning and going home or stepping up to the door. There’d be no turning back once I made that move. I took a deep breath, pushing myself into the foyer, hoping against hope that he wasn’t going to be in. That would most certainly be a sign that this was a bad idea and I should just go home.

  I would have given anything for a sign as the suit that brushed past me in the foyer turned.

  ‘Sarah?’

  I paused, turning toward my name. ‘Alistair?’

  So God must have a great sense of humour. He decided to give me a sign in the shape of Alistair Worthington, Ben’s younger, smiling brother.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said in surprise.

  ‘Oh, Gracie and I just thought we’d pop in to see her dad.’

  Alistair’s eyes shifted down as if seeing the pram for the first time, his smile dimming a little.

  ‘Gracie?’ he repeated, moving forward, tilting his head, a look of warmth and adoration in his eyes. He smiled brilliantly. If only Ben were more like his little brother. ‘Wow, she’s out like a light.’

  ‘I know, right? I can’t believe Grace has chosen to sleep now, of all times. She never sleeps.’

  ‘Never?’

  ‘Ever. I wish I was exaggerating.’ I laughed.

  He grimaced. ‘Ah, well, it’s a family trait, I’m afraid. I wish I could tell you that she’ll grow out of it.’

  ‘Please don’t tell me that.’

  ‘Would you feel better if I lied to you?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘She will totally grow out of it; she’ll be sleeping eight hours before you know it.’

  ‘I would settle for two.’

  ‘Well, lucky she’s cute.’

  ‘Yeah, when she’s asleep.’

  Alistair burst out laughing, before quietening for fear of waking her up. For the second time in as many meetings, Alistair was the unexpected delight of my day. I had been so worked up marching toward my doom, until I was greeted with a smile and the grey-blue eyes of a Worthington, except this pair were kind – they even had a little sparkle in them. They were by far the most attractive part of him.

  I had to pull myself away from those eyes and remember why I had come all this way.

  ‘Well, we better head up and see the lord of the manor,’ I said, readjusting my grip on the pram.

  ‘I’ll save you the trip – he’s not in.’

  ‘Oh.’ Now this was the sign I was looking for.

  Alistair shrugged. ‘Something about heading over to Brooklyn to check on some building project he’s contracting, apparently.’

  ‘I wonder if he’ll drop in to see Nikki?’ I said, mainly to myself. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to tell Nikki to go ahead and give him a piece of her mind, knock some sense into him.

  ‘There’s no way he would get away with being in Brooklyn and not dropping in for a visit. If Nikki found out, it wouldn’t be worth his life.’

  I laughed, knowing that what he was saying was true.

  ‘Well, it was nice seeing you. No doubt I’ll bump into you again,’ I said, moving the pram around to head outside. Alistair quickstepped around us, beating the doorman to open the door.

  ‘Hey, listen, are you busy right now? Do you want to have lunch or something? My plans are pretty much shot with Ben not being around, so I have some time up my sleeve.’

  ‘Oh, um.’ I tried to think of an excuse: laundry to do, washing my hair … I don’t know what made me want to say no, but when I couldn’t think of a valid reason, I changed my mind. Just because some people choose to hide away from the world doesn’t mean I had to.

  I smiled. ‘Well, Gracie and I were just going to grab something to eat and hang out in Washington Square Park if you want to come?’

  Alistair nodded, and for a second I could see the resemblance to Ben. My heart skipped a beat.

  ‘An excellent choice,’ he said.

  Alistair Worthington was a breath of fresh air and, just like Nikki, I questioned his parentage as I watched him dote and fuss over Grace, who excitedly whacked him in the face with her rattle.

  ‘Ah, that’s gonna bruise.’ He chuckled, nursing his eye socket.

  ‘Grace, that is no way to greet your uncle.’

  He squinted. ‘She packs a mean punch, that’s for sure.’

  ‘She’s also partial to face gouging and hair pulling,’ I said, taking Grace from his knee to rescue him.

  He laughed, shaking his head. ‘Such a brute.’

  ‘Does this iron will of hers come from your mother’s or father’s side?’

  Alistair blew out a breath, crossing his arms and relaxing on the bench as he idly watched the spray of the fountain before us. ‘Hard to say. The old man’s as stubborn as a mule, and, well, you’ve met my mother.’

  I nodded, perhaps a little too vigorously.

  ‘You’d like my dad. He’s a tough old bastard but he’s a charming one as well. Makes up for the fact he wasn’t the world’s greatest dad.’

  There was something refreshing about Alistair’s candidness, maybe because his brother was such a closed book. With Alistair, there were no hushed secrets or things left unsaid. I had found out more about his family in one afternoon than I had in almost a fortnight working for Ben. I had so wanted to ask Alistair about Ben specifically, but I kept the conversation to him and his life, which was far from boring. His tales of European summers, a life of rebelling against his family and causing havoc to the Worthington reputation had me more than convinced that I had found myself a new BFF.

  ‘So, what sent you away? And what has you coming back?’ I asked, placing Grace into her pram and pulling up the sun visor.

  Alistair looked at me sideways, squinting against the sun’s rays. ‘Wow, so many questions.’

  ‘Oh, sorry, I’m being nosy, just tell me to mind my own business, that’s w
hat everyone else does.’

  He shifted forward on his seat, fully focused on me and, God, if he didn’t look like Ben more than ever now that he’d turned serious. He leant his elbows on his knees. ‘Who tells you to mind your own business?’

  ‘Oh, no, well, not in so many words, just not to ask any questions, you know? Which I can understand,’ I lied.

  Alistair scoffed, leaning back again. ‘Yep! Welcome to the Worthingtons,’ he said before looking at his watch. ‘Damn it, speaking of Worthingtons.’

  ‘Coffee date with Penny?’

  ‘Not exactly – whisky and men’s business with Father.’ He sighed, standing and blocking the sun so I didn’t have to shield my eyes. ‘Don’t tell me she’s asleep again, I’m starting to get a complex.’

  ‘Ha! I know, right? For one who never sleeps. Seriously, what are you doing tonight?’

  Alistair looked at me with a spark of interest that had me blushing at how suggestive my words must have sounded.

  I cleared my throat. ‘I mean, you’re obviously the baby whisperer,’ I said quickly.

  ‘Either that or the most boring person she’s ever met.’

  ‘I doubt that.’

  And there was that smile again, broad and bright and almost something I had to shield my eyes from.

  ‘Hey, Sarah, you know that you can ask me as many questions as you want. I’ll never tell you to mind your own business.’

  My smile mirrored his. ‘Good to know.’

  Alistair nodded. ‘Well, I better get going, it’s been great hanging with you girls,’ he said, backing away with his hands in the pockets of his pants. ‘By the way, I still haven’t caught up with Ben, but we have a family dinner coming up. Do you think you can keep the secret of me being in town?’

  ‘You think he doesn’t know? As if your mum or sister haven’t said anything.’

  He laughed, shaking his head. ‘I would have thought you of all people would know how good Worthingtons are at keeping secrets.’

  ‘Wow. So. True.’

  ‘Deal?’

  ‘Your secret is safe with me.’

  Alistair bowed. ‘Much obliged, see you around, Miss Williams.’

  Alistair turned to exit through the Washington Arch, and then I realised.

  ‘Hey, Alistair, you never answered my questions.’

  He turned to me with interest.

  ‘What drew you away and what made you come back?’

  He thought, a knowing smile curving his mouth. ‘That’s easy,’ he said, ‘because the answer is the same for both.’

  I folded my arms and waiting, ever so intrigued.

  Alistair smiled, that same glorious smile, as he winked before continuing to walk. ‘Her name is Holly.’

  The smile fell from my face and my blood ran cold.

  Holly?

  Oh my God.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I was shocked. Surely he couldn’t do that to his own brother?

  If Alistair had left because of Holly, did that mean that he knew about her and Ben? Was Holly why Ben and Caroline’s relationship had been on the rocks – had Ben had an affair? No wonder no one wanted me to ask questions, not even Nikki. The idea that I had almost become another notch in Ben’s bedpost made me feel ill.

  I glanced down at Grace in her pram as I walked back to the townhouse, thinking if it wasn’t for her I would be writing a letter of resignation and packing my bags. Tears welled and I felt a new sense of hopelessness. But as I looked at her sleeping, my heart ached, and I realised I couldn’t possibly leave. Despite the sleepless nights, the tears, the screams, the drool, the poop and the hair pulling, I had gone and fallen in love with her. And I was the only stable thing she had in her life right now.

  I cautiously bumped Grace up the steps, pausing at the top to hold my breath as she squirmed and frowned in her sleep. I blew out a sigh of relief, having managed not to wake her. I rolled her down the hall into the lounge, enjoying the peace a little longer as I took my bag from my shoulder and put it on the couch. I wiped a light sheen of sweat from my face then went to the fridge for a bottle of water. I twisted the lid and gulped big mouthfuls before I realised where I was standing. The memories flared in my mind. Damn him! Why couldn’t he be a crap kisser?

  I quickly moved to the opposite side of the bench, opening the laptop to record Grace’s sleep and daily routine to monitor her patterns. But before I even had a chance to click onto the Word doc my eyes caught on something above the little envelope at the bottom of the screen: a small red circle with a white number one inside.

  I swallowed, not letting myself truly freak out until I clicked on the envelope …

  ‘Oh, fuck.’

  Ben had replied.

  A part of me hoped that it was an email telling me I was fired, but I knew I wouldn’t be that lucky. I psyched myself up to open it, the cursor hovering over his name, my blood pulsing loud in my ears like the countdown to launch time, and before I could chicken out, I clicked.

  There was no way this man could possibly infuriate me any more than he already had. His response to my thoroughly thought-out, articulate, fifteen-hundred-word email?

  On my way home. – B

  ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

  I checked the time the email was sent: twenty minutes ago. I had no real idea of how long it took to travel from Brooklyn, especially in a chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce. But, as I looked around the room, I did know that it looked like a bomb had gone off.

  I started to clean like a woman possessed. It was always important to me, no matter who I worked for, that they come home to a clean and organised home; I wanted to seem like this superhuman force who could do it all, even if I felt anything but. A part of me wanted to say screw it and give Ben a dose of reality – he deserved it, I thought bitterly – and then I stilled, wondering if that was born from the disappointment of him avoiding his daughter or that he was a massive love rat who’d betrayed his own brother. How was I ever going to continue working for a man like him?

  I was about to find out.

  The front door slammed and Ben’s footsteps sounded in the hall. I attacked the bench even more vigorously. Maybe if I seemed busy I wouldn’t have to interact with him too much.

  ‘Get ready,’ he said.

  No hello? No how has your day been, your week even? ‘Sorry?’

  ‘We’ve been invited to dinner with a colleague of mine.’

  I twisted the dishcloth in my hand, looking at him in confusion.

  Ben sighed, unfastening the single button of his jacket. ‘They all want to meet Grace.’ He said it in a way that almost sounded bored. So … what? She was good enough to use as a showpiece?

  ‘Did you get my email?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, going over to Grace in her bouncer. ‘She doesn’t live in this thing, does she?’ he said.

  ‘Of course not!’

  Ben glanced at me, not seeming to appreciate my tone, but I didn’t care – I didn’t appreciate the accusation. I should have left the house messy after all, show him a bit of reality.

  I walked over to Grace, pushing past him to unclip her from her seat. I nursed her over my shoulder. ‘We’ve actually had a productive day, haven’t we, Grace? We had lunch in Washington Park.’

  There was no response as he tried, and failed, to ready Grace’s baby bag.

  ‘In fact, we dropped in to your office, but you weren’t there.’

  ‘Where?’

  I rolled my eyes, adjusting my hold on Grace. ‘To your work, but you were in Brooklyn.’

  ‘Who told you that?’

  My mouth gaped, almost spilling the truth. Your brother told me.

  ‘So you weren’t in Brooklyn?’

  ‘Why would I go to Brooklyn?’ He seemed to find the thought unsavoury.

  I wanted to tell him what Alistair had told me, but I had promised to keep his secret for a little longer. Then I wondered if maybe someone was preventing Alistair from getting to Ben.
I thought of the snarly Ruth answering the door at the Lafayette Street apartment and suddenly had no doubt who was behind the misinformation.

  ‘Well, I suppose I should have just called in every day, seeing as that’s where you’ve been all week.’ I tried not to sound snarky, but I couldn’t help it. I wanted him to know I knew. And that he was weak for hiding out and taking the easy option.

  He never said a word, simply averted his attention to Grace, his eyes shiny with a new lightness as he cocked his head and smiled at her, touching her cheek. Just as quickly as the emotion came to him, he shut it down, turning to me, his expression serious, and he was every bit the devil I had pegged him for. I wanted as little to do with him as possible.

  ‘Get ready,’ he repeated.

  I left the room knowing that I couldn’t bite my tongue forever, and if this night was going to be as awful as I predicted, then come morning, I would be handing in my resignation letter. That thought was the only thing that kept me moving up the stairs.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Grant and Melissa Peterson lived on the Upper East Side. They embodied everything that was fine and good. They had lovely wine glasses and an impressive art collection. They were bubbly and welcoming and cooed appropriately over Grace and made even the lowly au pair feel welcome. I wondered if maybe Alistair had been invited? Or Nikki? My thoughts were interrupted by Grace being torn from my arms by an overexcited Melissa.

  She laughed. ‘Oh, Grant, doesn’t it make you want another one?’

  Grant’s eyes glazed over and if this was a cartoon, he would have been loosening his collar and sweating bullets. But this was reality, so he just laughed nervously and took a long sip of his champagne flute.