Friends with Benefits

by Amy Brent

  Fortunately, because Veronica had had little food, it was mostly just booze anyway. It probably wasn’t too different from somebody spilling a drink. In no time, I had it squeaky clean, and then turned my attention to Veronica.

  She was sleeping.

  “Veronica,” I said.

  She shifted, letting out a wheezing snore.

  “Veronica!”

  She jumped, and then opened her eyes, smacking her mouth like a cow. A small but mean part of me thought, Let’s see if all those guys are interested in her now.

  “What?” She demanded.

  “You just made a big mess. I need you to apologize, both to the waiter and to the manager of this restaurant.”

  “Why?” She grunted, threatening to fall face first onto the table as she jutted her chin at me.

  “Because it’s the right thing to do. Now, eat some of this bread, and get up.”

  “Aw, do I have to?”

  “Yes.”

  She glared at me. “I hate it when you get like this,” she muttered. “Fucking mom.”

  But she took the bread and began nibbling at it. With every bite, she made a face like I was making her eat cow droppings, but at least she was eating it. And already, I could see her sobering up.

  I decided it was time to find the manager. It didn’t take long. I guessed it was the tall, stately dressed woman in the high-heels, scowling at our waiter.

  “Ma’am,” I said. “I’m so sorry about all this mess, and I assure you that I will do everything I can to make it right. Which starts with this.”

  I went over, grabbed Veronica’s hand, and marched her back to where the manager waited. I glanced at her nametag and saw, “Rita” before turning to Veronica.

  “Now, Veronica,” I said. “Don’t you have something to say to Ms. Rita here?”

  She glared at me. “Mm’sorra.”

  “What?” I insisted.

  She glared harder, and then switched her gaze to Rita. “I’m sorry, ma’am,” she said, with clarity. Then she turned back towards me, “I’m getting us a cab,” she said icily.

  “Wonderful,” said I, smiling benignly at her as she stomped away.

  Rita hadn’t responded. She was busy watching Veronica leave with amusement, annoyance, and something like wonder.

  “It’s not often I get an apology from a girl like that,” she muttered, then looked at me. “She a friend of yours, then?”

  “Yes,” I answered truthfully. “Though I haven’t seen her much since college. I just moved to New York today, and she was showing me sights.”

  “She definitely showed quite a sight tonight, then, huh?” Said Rita, chuckling. I smiled. The women didn’t seem too mad. I wondered if this sort of thing happened all the time.

  “Yes,” I said. “And I’m sorry again. We mopped up, and I dried the place too, just in case. Is there anything else I can do?”

  Rita gazed at me strangely, a thoughtful frown on her face. After what seemed ages, she asked. “You’re new to New York, then? Where did you come from?”

  “Valley Springs, Vermont,” I said proudly. “My brothers and I grew up there.”

  “Huh. How many brothers?”

  “Four. All younger,” I answered.

  Much later, it would occur to me just how weird this conversation was, between two New York strangers. At the time, however, it seemed perfectly natural. I was from the country, after all.

  “Huh,” Rita said again. “So that means you’re used to this sort of thing?”

  She nodded in the direction of our table.

  “Too used to it, actually,” I laughed. “When I wasn’t watching my brothers, I was helping out my neighbor at her daycare center. You name a bodily fluid, and I’ve cleaned it.”

  Weird, Danielle, weird! The little alarm bells in my head cried as spoke. I could just imagine Veronica rolling her eyes and looking at me in disgust. But Rita didn’t seem disgusted. Instead, her look of thoughtful ponderance increased.

  “So,” she said, “do you have a job yet?”

  “A job!” I gasped. “No, I don’t!” Was she about to offer me a job? There was no way. My friend had just puked all over her staff! But she was looking at me appraisingly, and I dared to hope.

  Imagine…working at a place like this…

  “Would you be interested in working as a nanny?”

  It took several long seconds for her question to penetrate my brain.

  “A nanny? Oh, yes, I suppose. I’ve got plenty of experience.”

  It took a lot of effort to say that. I was too busy watching my daydreams of working at the hotel itself bursting into little puffs of smoke.

  “Great,” Rita said. She reached into her breast pocket and pulled out a small notebook, in which she began to scribble. “I need you to be at this address, at 8 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning. Think you can manage that?”

  I glanced at it. I was familiar enough of New York geography to know that it was not far from the hotel.

  “Of course!” I exclaimed. Though that means about four hours sleep. I couldn’t complain though. I needed a job, and I was frankly lucky the woman hadn’t kicked me and Veronica right out.

  “Wonderful,” said Rita. “I’ll see you then. And don’t be late!”

  “Yes, ma’am!” I promised. She nodded, then walked away.

  Feeling dazed, I paid our bill then and meandered out to the entrance, where I saw Veronica waiting with her arms crossed and scowling.

  “About time,” she exclaimed. Her voice had lost the harsh bluntness of intoxicating, to be replaced with something needling and venomous. I smiled at her, unperturbed.

  “Come on, Vee,” I said. “Let’s get your drunk ass home.”

  And thought I had never done it before in my entire life, I hailed a taxi cab, ushered Veronica in, and together we went back to the apartment.

  Chapter 5

  Roger

  “I don’t know why I needed to get out of bed so early,” I grumbled, glaring across at Rita from across a steaming cup of coffee. “Is this why I pay you so much? For you to drag me out of bed at 7:30 in the morning?”

  “You’re the one who needed a new nanny by nine,” she shot back. “And you should at least interview them. They’re going to be watching your daughter, for goodness sake!”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I grunted. I couldn’t argue with that, though my hangover would have liked to. “So tell me again why we couldn’t have had this at my house? Why did we need to go all the way to the billing office?”

  Rita smiled. “First off, I knew that if we had it at your house, you’d still be in your pajamas, and I wanted you to make a good first impression. That’s important, don’t you think?”

  I glared at her, but nodded. She was having way too much fun teasing my early-morning fuzziness. I was an evening man, for Christ’s sake. Nothing interesting happened in the morning!

  “Secondly,” she continued, “I didn’t think it wise to give perfect strangers knowledge about your house. You have picture frames in there that could settle some of these girls’ mortgages. You have to be sensible.”

  I sighed. I was sensible! Or at least, I had been. Before Victoria’s death, I had been hard as a rock. Since then, though, I had to admit I’d been walking around in a sort of haze. It occurred to me that, if not for Rita, my hotels probably would have gone under.

  “Thank you, Rita,” I said sincerely. “I really appreciate all this. And so last minute, too.”

  If she was surprised at my gratitude, she didn’t show it. She just stood right up and said, “I’ll send the first one in. And get you a refill on that coffee, too.”

  I raised my mug towards her and she left. A moment later, a middle-aged woman entered. She had on a purple pantsuit, a large and ugly pin, and looked like somebody’s bank teller. I did my best to seem cheerful and hitched a smile on my face.

  “Welcome!” I started. “So, tell me about yourself.”

  And so it began.

  Pantsuit
lady turned out to be no good because she was a wishy-washy, overly-eager sort of type whom I knew Maggie would bamboozle in about ten seconds. The next candidate, a young, no-nonsense Hispanic woman, was no good because she’d informed me point blank that she’d have to leave Maggie three times a day for yoga practice. The third one who came was so hungover from the night before that I could practically smell the tequila on her. I sent her out with a glare.

  “That’s the best you got?” I called to Rita as she sat working at her desk. “I think she was still drunk!”

  “Oh, please forgive me,” she snapped back. “I forgot there’s only room for one drunken idiot in this company!” I scowled, but didn’t offer a retort. I probably smelt of scotch as strongly as that woman stank of margaritas.

  Eight fifteen rolled around, followed by eight thirty. I was beginning to despair of finding somebody before nine, when Maggie would have to get up and start preparing for school. I stood, about to go to Rita and tell that we ought to give up for the day. I’d actually do this right and find a nanny through an agency.

  And that’s when she walked in.

  My first thought was: My god!

  My second thought was: She’s way too young to be a nanny!

  And then: I noticed, that while her skin and eyes were bright with youth and exuberance, those hips and tits were that of a woman. There was also they was she carried herself: graceful and shy, like a fawn, and yet as confidant as a deer with a magnificent rack of antlers.

  Which lead me to my final thought: That is a magnificent rack.

  “Hello, Mr.…Clifton?” She said, striding towards me with her hand outstretched. “I’m Danielle, and I’m here to interview for the nannying position?”

  “Of course, of course,” I replied, immediately donning the cool, debonair sophistication of a man well used to working with large sums of money and beautiful woman. “Sit down, my dear, and tell me about yourself.”

  She obeyed, and I noticed that she did so athletically and comfortably, as if she was not ashamed of her body and how it moved. Not at all like most New York women, who did everything they could to appear three sizes smaller than they really were. Already, I could feel myself taking a liking to her.

  “Well, sir,” she said, “I just moved her from Vermont, where I had plenty of experience nannying…”

  At this point, I stopped listening. I was too caught up in the idea of her on sunlit Vermont slopes. First, in the summer, in a little string bikini, basking beside a mountain pool. Then, during the winter, rocketing down the ski slopes, unafraid of her speed, her muscular legs tensed as she took every turn with ease…

  “Do you like to ski?” I interrupted her mid-sentence. She paused and blinked before regathering her stride.

  “Yes, sir. Every winter my brothers and I would hit the slopes. It’s something I bet I’m going to miss, now that I’m in New York.”

  “I see,” I said, genuinely curious. “And what made you decide to move here?”

  “Well…” She blushed, as if she was unsure how to answer. “This is probably not a good thing to say at a job interview, but I have a dream of one day working in hospitality, and, well, New York is the place to be for that.”

  I smiled. This girl…Danielle, well, she certainly wasn’t a business lady. A normal person would have lied, and said something to the effect of, “I moved here to your nanny!” But not her. She was honest. I realized that that was exactly the sort of quality I wanted Maggie to have.

  “You’re hired,” I declared, right out of the blue.

  “What?” She gasped. “Really?”

  “Yes,” I said. Her genuine astonishment endeared her to me even more. “You start immediately. And your pay will be…”

  I ran off a string of numbers that made her jaw practically drop down to my desk. I smiled. This was one of the best things about being rich. Being able to pay people amounts that made their head spin.

  “Why, thank you, sir! Thank you!” She exclaimed. It made me happy to see how happy I’d made her. I realized that it had been a long time since I’d talked to somebody her age: so young and full of life. I could imagine her happiness bubbling off of her like a freshly poured soda.

  “I’ll call my driver. Wait outside until he arrives.”

  “Your driver? Wow…Okay, thank you, sir!”

  And with that, she leapt to her feet and dashed from the office.

  A moment later, Rita appeared. “I had a feeling you’d like that one,” she said.

  I glared at her, offended. “Why? Look, the woman is highly qualified. Just because she’s beautiful…”

  “Hey, that’s not what I meant,” laughed Rita. “I just had a feeling. Like you could use some cheering up. And she just seems a bucketful of cheer.”

  A bucketful of cheer. Not wasn’t quite right. Buckets were big and sloppy. But a champagne glass…those were elegant. Stately. But also fun. And one can drink champagne anywhere.

  “A champagne glass full of cheer…” I muttered under my breath.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ll have her send her info to you ASAP. Now, we’re off to the final test – let’s have her meet Maggie!”

  Chapter 6

  Danielle

  I was a little confused as I waited outside. He said he was getting his driver, so, what was I supposed to be looking for? Was I supposed to hail a cab for the both of us? Remember, I’d only been in a cab once. I wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for sharing a cab with a relative stranger – especially a stranger as handsome as Mr. Clifton.

  “Whoa,” I whistled under my breath when I was finally alone. Throughout the whole interview I’d been fighting the urge to blush and giggle, that’s how sexy this guy looked. Like a cross between Hugh Grant and Russell Crowe. The kind of appearance that would look at home at the British parliament, wearing a tailored suit, or in blue jeans, wrestling bulls. Gentle but tough. Experienced but curious. Usually, I would not go for a man so much older than me, but he had that kind of face that looks just as great at twenty, forty, or sixty.

  And, judging by how much he was offering to pay me, he had a bit of money too.

  How naïve I was.

  About five minutes later, Mr. Clifton emerged from the office building, alongside Rita, the woman who’d spoken to me the night before. She flashed me a smile and I gave her a little wave as she got into her car – a very nice, bright red Lexus. Then, she drove away, leaving me alone with Mr. Clifton.

  Suddenly, I noticed my hands begin to sweat.

  “Ah, he’s here,” Mr. Clifton said at last, and I watched, amazed, as a limousine, gleaming like obsidian in the early morning sun, pulled right up to the pair of us. The driver leapt out, hopped over to the door, and opened it, gesturing Mr. Clifton and I in with a sweep of his hand.

  “After you, Danielle?” he asked, sounding utterly charming.

  “Thank you, Mr. Clifton!”

  He chuckled. “Please, call me Roger.”

  And then the door to the limo clapped shut, leaving me alone in the semi-darkness with Roger.

  Just then, as small blue lights sprang up around our feet, and I caught glimpse of a fully stocked limousine bar, complete with a mini-fridge and small television, I realized two things:

  First, Roger must have a lot more money than I initially thought.

  Second, I had just gotten into a very enclosed, very dimly-lit car with a perfect stranger – one who, judging by the sleek muscles visible through his jacket, could take me in an instant.

  I wasn’t in Vermont anymore. I couldn’t afford to make dangerous mistakes. I braced myself, clenching against my cool leather seat, in case “Roger” decided to attack.

  It turns out, he was a perfect gentleman.

  The whole ride over, we chatted amiably about everything from New York traffic to what I missed most about Vermont. I felt extremely silly talking about such things – for why on earth would a man like him be interested? I figured he was just feigning interest to
be polite. Either way, he listened to me with rapt attention, smiling and laughing at all the right points.

  Then, we pulled up to a hotel.

  “Oh, no sir,” I began to spurt nervously. “I really think you have gotten the wrong idea. See, I was told that this was for a nanny position, not…”

  I noticed the sign, and the words died in my throat. Clifton Hotel, it read, in huge gold letters. I had seen the name the night before, but it had never even occurred to me that this man might be that Mr. Clifton.

  Which left me feeling sillier and more awkward than ever.

  Roger noticed this and chuckled, offering me his own hand instead of his driver. “Didn’t know you’d be meeting a celebrity, huh?” He joked. “I’m glad, actually. It means you didn’t apply to this job just to rob me blind!”

  “Uh-huh,” I murmured in agreement. What else could I say? I was standing next to Roger freaking Clifton, for Pete’s sake!

  “This way,” Roger instructed, leading me through the dazzling front entrance of his hotel. I was so glad Veronica and I had gone here the night before, otherwise I would have been completely floored. To my surprise, he did not lead me to the main elevators, but down a small but ornately decorated hallway behind the manager’s desk.