New York Nights (Heart of the City #2)(19)

'It's okay,' I said. 'She might settle.' I kissed the side of his jaw, working my way to his mouth.

He kissed me, but his focus was solely on the green light on the monitor. We were so close, and I knew that once we started, there would be no going back. I just needed this, needed him inside me, to fuck me. And just as he readied himself once more to push inside me, he stopped.

'Ben, please  … ' I begged.

But he stepped away, leaving me lying on the bench, feeling suddenly cold and exposed. I sat up, pulling my T-shirt down, watching him buckle and zip himself up.

'What the fuck are we doing?'

'Ben. She's okay, we'll check on her,' I said quietly.

'I'll check on her. Jesus, you're supposed to be the one reacting to her cries.' He went to the sink to wash his hands.

I straightened, angered by his harsh words. 'I do, all the time.'

'Well, that's why I pay you,' he said quietly, but I heard him.

I slid off the bench, straightening my panties, feeling the fury swirl in the pit of my stomach. 'That's right, you do pay me to look after your child,' I snapped, thinking I had gone too far, but if my words hit a nerve, Ben didn't show it. He dried his hands on a paper towel and left the kitchen.

My legs felt weak, and I was flushed and flustered, a little sexual frustration and a whole lot of deep-seated anger. How dare he imply I didn't care about Grace, that I was incompetent in looking after a daughter he hardly even saw through the week? One day of caring for her and he was suddenly Father of the Year? If he had decided to use me then he had gone the right way about it. I had never felt so stupid, so utterly ashamed. I had crossed the biggest line of all, breached professionalism and all sanity. I was suddenly thankful for Grace's cries, for stopping us from doing something we would no doubt regret in the morning  –  if not instantly.



       
         
       
        

I washed my hands, splashing the cool water against my cheeks in a bid to calm down. I could hear Ben speaking softly and reassuringly to Grace through the baby monitor as she still cried. And like a robot, I went to the fridge, grabbed a bottle and took it to the microwave, heating the formula. I carried the bottle upstairs, feeling numb. I tried to convince myself that I wasn't a bad person, just a severely misguided one. Sleep would clear my mind, give me time to know what to do in the morning.

I crossed the landing toward Grace's opened door. Ben was sitting in his chair nursing her, rocking her. His head lifted as I stepped inside. I held out the baby bottle to him before he could say a word. His confused eyes lowered to the bottle and only then did the harsh edges of his face soften a little. I could see his resolve thaw in the frame of his shoulders as he took the bottle from my hand.

'Listen, Sarah I -'

'Goodnight, Ben.' I turned to the door, making sure I held my head high. This time saying goodnight wasn't about being a coward, or running away. It was about not wanting to hear his reasons or excuses. I didn't need his patronising speech; if I had a job come morning, I would lay down the law and gain some semblance of power back because, above all else, I knew it would be the only way to repair my damaged ego.





Chapter Twenty


'Listen, Ben, about last night  … '

'Whoa, what was the alcohol percentage in that wine, Ben? I don't remember a thing!'

'Ben, I think sleep deprivation can do strange things to the mind.'

'Ben, I think we need to disinfect the kitchen benchtop.'

'Ben, we have unfinished business.' Okay, no, that sounded bad  –  way too suggestive.

Try as I might, nothing seemed to sound right, no matter how many times I rehearsed in the bathroom mirror. I had never wished for a weekend to be over so much in my life; at least if it had been a Monday, Ben would be off to work and I wouldn't have to worry about how I was never going to be able to look him in the face again. A memory of him kissing and licking my nipple rushed into my mind and I buried my face in my hands. Oh god, how the hell had this happened? Oh, that's right; I wanted him to forget about his dead wife. Jesus, Sarah, who are you?

After all my failed ideas to fix this situation, there was only one way to tackle it, and that was with a blank mind and no expectations. I had crossed a line last night, we both knew it, and more than anything else, Ben Worthington was a businessman. And now the deal to care for his most prized possession had been compromised. Despite his early inner turmoil and reluctance to show any emotion or spend time with her, he was getting better; I could see the change in him, even over the last few days. So if there was going to be a complication in his life that might jeopardise his relationship with Grace in any way, I knew he would cut ties if he had to. I was likely to go downstairs and find a cheque sitting on the kitchen bench and a car waiting to take me to the airport. 

By the time I left my room, I had all but convinced myself that was exactly what was going to happen, and had psyched myself up for it. So when I turned the corner into the kitchen to find Penny Worthington sitting at the kitchen counter opposite Ben, all my preparations and expectations fell away. Maybe Penny had the place rigged up with nanny cams and had seen what happened last night. Maybe she was here to fire me.

'Good morning, Sarah, or should I say afternoon?' she quipped. It was barely ten am. Not that I had gotten much sleep, and I knew Ben hadn't either. Even if I hadn't heard Grace's cries throughout the night, the way he nursed his coffee, the circles under his eyes and the light dusting of stubble were dead giveaways. The only person who looked like a million dollars was the fossil-like Penny. With her bright grey eyes, her pearl necklace and impressively coiffed hairstyle, Penny looked like she'd just stepped out of a salon.

'Sarah, Grace needs changing; can you be a love and see to it?' Penny passed a squirming, unsettled Grace over with pursed lips, as if she found babies disgusting. Yeah, they sure could be, but Penny's reaction said more about her lack of maternal instinct than it did about Grace's dirty nappy. Maybe I had been too harsh on Ben's parenting abilities, considering his role model.

Ben sighed. 'Mom, it's Sarah's day off.'

'Oh, she won't mind.' She waved away his words. 'I'm sure she's more than happy to dispose of the smell,' she said, speaking as if I wasn't even present. And unlike Penny's cringeworthy handling of her granddaughter, I held Grace close, caring little if she smelled. It wouldn't be the first or last time I would have to deal with it  –  as long as I wasn't about to be fired.

'Don't do it near the bench though, Sarah  –  not very sanitary near a food preparation area.'

The minute the words were out her mouth, Ben and I locked eyes. My horror was evident, but then something unexpected happened: Ben looked on the verge of laughing, as he eyed me knowingly and scratched at his stubble. If only she knew.

That shared moment told me we would be all right. There would be no packing of bags today, and right now I only had one thing to focus on: changing a stinky but adorable baby.

So it was my day off; that didn't mean I couldn't make silly faces and tickle Grace when she was in such a happy mood, smiling and gurgling and whacking me with her arms in excitement. It was also the perfect ruse to listen in on Penny and Ben's conversation.

'What do you mean, you're not coming?' Her words were high-pitched and hoity.

'I'm just not.'

'Why?'

'You know why.'

'Oh, honestly, Benjamin, when is this family ever going to come together? It will be around my death bed, that's when!'

'Well, can't say I can promise, Mother,' he said, sipping his coffee.

'You know, sometimes I think how much easier my life would have been without children.'

'How can we forget? It's something you remind us of every day,' Ben replied. His tolerance for his own mother seemed paper thin, and it was no wonder considering the way she spoke.

Try as I might, there was no endearing quality I could find in Penny Worthington; she was reminiscent of the third floor: vacant. Her eyes were cold, and her manner indifferent. It was a miracle Ben could find any humour in anything, ever. And again I wondered how Nikki managed to be such a happy-go-lucky free spirit.



       
         
       
        

'Well, I am sick and tired of it, Benjamin. You're the eldest, you sort it out,' she said firmly, then stood and grabbed for her designer handbag.

Ben dumped his cup into the sink with a sigh.

Penny turned to us, smiling in that disingenuous way of hers. 'Sarah, goodbye. Grace,' she said, offering a little wave. Honestly, for a socialite, her people skills sucked. Every grandmother should have a bone-crushing goodbye hug for their grandchild, but not Penny. Wouldn't want to get drool on the Dior.

As the front door closed, I picked Grace up, lifting her to the sky and then down to my eye level, making her squeal. I pulled a series of over-the-top faces. Laughing because Grace was, I propped her in my lap, reaching for one of her chew rings, which she eagerly shoved in her mouth, a stream of saliva spilling onto my hand. I didn't care, I could only laugh as I swept her thick, soft hair aside. I loved how babies had that particular smell about them  –  well, post-change anyway.

It was then my attention shifted to where Ben was standing, watching with interest. My smile faltered slightly, thinking I had overstepped the mark again, playing with Grace on my day off. I wasn't exactly sure what the rules were for such a thing, but then I wasn't sure of much around this house.