New York Nights (Heart of the City #2)(22)

Ben reclined casually in his big wing-backed chair, his elbows resting on the arms. 'Did you have a good day?' he asked.

I realised I hadn't thanked him for, or acknowledged, today's expedition, and I felt bad. I had been too busy trying to get my head around the reality that I was spending my day with Ben at all, and in Central Park of all places. As far as a Sunday goes, it was not the usual outing.

'I did, thank you.' Ugh, you are so lame, Sarah!

Ben nodded as if pleased by the response.

A silence grew between us, made even worse by the music coming to an end. The only sound seemed to be that of my heart, and the breaths I attempted to keep even as Ben's cool eyes looked into mine. I swallowed, trying to think of ways to continue the conversation so we could put it to bed as quickly as possible. I glanced at his bed. Okay, bad analogy; now was not the time to think about Ben Worthington and his bed.

So instead of letting Ben watch me squirm and going another day waiting to talk about the elephant in the room, I squared my shoulders. 'About last night,' I said, trying to keep my voice even.

Aside from the slight lift of his brows, Ben's face remained unchanged. 'Good,' he said. 'What are your thoughts?'

'Oh, um  … ' I stammered. Thoughts? I couldn't tell him those, they contradicted what my good sense wanted me to say. I couldn't tell him how I had been on the brink of a screaming orgasm just before his daughter interrupted the hottest sexual encounter of my existence. I couldn't tell him that I regretted nothing and if it was okay with him, I'd like to pick up from where we'd left off and finish the job right, if not multiple times. So I lied, I lied so hard. 

'Well, clearly it was a mistake.'

'Right,' he said.

Which felt like a slap in the face; I had to stifle the pang that created inside me, and quickly moved on with 'my thoughts'.

'And it can never happen again,' I said with an edge of certainty that I was proud of.

He didn't reply. I was about to apologise for stepping over a line but stopped myself, wondering what I had to be sorry for  –  he'd kissed me back!

I tried to not let myself get too excited about that, I knew it was just a reaction to the emotions and memories I'd caused with my questions, but I couldn't help myself. If we were being candid, I needed for him to know that I had a pretty good idea why he'd kissed me.

'Who's Holly?' I asked, and as soon as the words were airborne I wanted to take them back.

Ben froze over like an Arctic chill had run through the room and I broke away from his severe stare. I could tell he was angry at me for asking, and again I was ready to apologise, until he said, 'A friend,' which gave me an answer, but didn't exactly clear anything up. I didn't press for more.

Ben stood and walked to the door of his room. He grabbed it and looked at me. It wasn't the most subtle of hints.

I got up, trying my best not to scramble as I went to the door, lifting my chin a little to present an illusion of confidence. I was more than ready to leave the third floor, leave and never linger there again.

Just as I reached the doorway, Ben's voice stopped me in my tracks.

'I'm going to be away all week for work.'

I don't know why I was so shocked by this  –  he worked, travelled, of course he did  –  but there was something about the sheer convenience of him 'working away' that left me sceptical, at best.

For all the time I had felt weak for avoiding the inevitable conversation about last night, it was clear now that I wasn't the only coward. Far from it.

'Anything else?' I asked coolly.

'I'm leaving early, can you look out for Grace tonight?'

'Of course.'

Ben nodded; it seemed his favourite acknowledgement.

I don't know why, but I didn't move straightaway, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was looking into the deep, cloudy depths of his eyes, or because I hoped he might say something comforting, something funny. Something to make me change my mind about resenting him, but he didn't. He just looked at me in the same heated way he had last night right before he kissed me.

My heart thundered against my chest and I could feel my breath catch in my throat at the familiarity of the look, so when he said, 'Goodnight, Sarah,' I blinked out of my trance and moved onto the landing, trying to pretend like my heart hadn't sunk to my feet.

'Goodnight, Ben.'





Chapter Twenty-Two


With space came clarity, and I was grateful for that. Ben didn't report in all week and with no life-or-death situations, I didn't contact him. To most this would be a dream situation: New York City at my feet, any facilities I could dream of at a touch of my finger and an absentee boss who pretty much let me get on with things. There was just one slight problem. Grace didn't want to sleep  –  ever. And come the week's end I was beyond exhausted and beginning to doubt everything I did. Was she too hot? Too cold? Did I like the mattress in her cot, should I trust that brand? My trips into the city were limited by the fact that most days I couldn't spare time for a shower or to get Grace ready to leave the house. I felt like I was a failure  –  failing Grace, failing myself  –  and as the week drew on I became even more jaded and angry at Ben. Of course Penny called and threatened a visit, but I always made up some engagement that made our lives sound well-adjusted and balanced. In truth most of the time all I could do for a break was to draw on the roof terrace, until Grace began to cry again, something that made my own tears well in dismay.



       
         
       
        

I couldn't do this. I just couldn't.

On Thursday afternoon, I was ready to break my streak and dial Ben's work number. I had to tell him that I was tired and defeated and I couldn't do it any more. Just as my finger hovered over the call button, the doorbell rang, causing Grace to scream louder.

I scurried down the hall, praying that the doorbell wouldn't ring again. I didn't care if it was Penny nor if I looked like shit, nor that the living room was a mess and Grace was screaming down the place. I was over the avoidance, I was over pretending that I had my shit together when I clearly didn't. I wasn't getting paid enough to be a full-time single parent, and I certainly wasn't living the New York dream; if anything, I was living a New York nightmare.

I unlocked the door and swung it open, finding Nikki Fitzgerald standing before me. Seeing her, I couldn't hold the tears at bay any more, and Nikki's bright, cheery demeanour slipped from her pretty face.

'What's wrong?' she asked, stepping forward and grabbing my arms as I began to cry.

'I'm just so happy to see you,' I said.

Nikki smiled. 'Yes, well, I do have that effect on people.' Grace's screams drew Nikki's attention down the hall. 'Trouble in paradise?'

'How did you guess?' I said, closing the door.

'If I know that cry, I would say that stubborn Worthington gene is kicking in.'

'Please tell me there's a cure.'

'What? For being a Worthington?'

I just looked at her, praying she was about to part with words of wisdom.

'I'm afraid not, lovely, she's a Worthington to the bone.'

'That's what I was afraid of,' I said, as I followed Nikki down the hall and closer to the screams. 'She won't sleep. What's wrong with her? What's wrong with me?'

'Firstly, there is nothing wrong with you. You are doing a great job, and a difficult job. There is also almost certainly nothing wrong with Gracie,' she said when we got to the living room. She held the baby over her shoulder, rubbing her soothingly on the back, instantly calming her tears. I was grateful as well as hating her a little for having the mightiest touch. When it came to babies, Nikki was an authority on the subject, and I would take everything she said as gospel.

'Next: there are lots of reasons why a baby won't sleep. Some of the most obvious are: they're hungry; they're distracted by something in the room; they're uncomfortable  –  too hot, too cold or in pain. If you've ruled out all of those-'

'And I have.'

'Well, the most common reason is that they are often overtired and don't know how to go to sleep.' 

'But how do you teach them?' I asked, dismayed.

'The biggest challenge with using various techniques when your baby won't sleep is consistency. The truth is, you have to be strong in these situations. You have to be entirely consistent as much as you possibly can. That means bath, feeding, bed at the same time each day, no matter how much she fusses. Babies will pick up on the slightest change and hope that next time, they will be able to get you to feed them more quickly or get you to pick them up. They are pretty clever!'

I thought on what Nikki was saying and my shoulders sank. Grace's care was going to be a combination of job-sharing between me and Ben. I had handed Grace over to him come the weekend and he had handed her to me on Sunday night; throw in a day with Ruth and there was no consistency at all. It was a light-bulb moment and I was too afraid to hope that there could be something to be done about this.

'You have to soldier on, Sarah, try to help Grace learn how to settle on her own, otherwise you will always have to feed or cuddle her to sleep. Commit to being consistent for three days. If you can think of it as just three days, it doesn't feel as daunting, and after three days, babies will usually have started to learn new habits. Really consolidating the habits can take around two weeks, but three days is a brilliant start.'

I grimaced. 'But what about weekends?'