'Oh, don't you worry about Evie, I don't think there will be another au pair coming on board. Melissa has vowed to be a full-time parent, no more nannies or tennis lessons.'
I shook my head, barely believing what I was hearing. It felt like Penny was updating me on a plot of The Bold and the Beautiful. It made my little existence with Grace and Ben in Greenwich Village seem dull in comparison.
'I suppose at least I can say that I am grateful to you, Sarah.'
Had I misheard Penny Worthington? Did she just say something nice again? 'You are?'
'Oh, very much so. I never have to worry about Ben being attracted to you, he assured me of that himself. What did he say to me last night? "Not in a million years", and by my calculations I will be long gone from this earth by then.' She laughed. 'More tea?'
'Um, no, thanks … I'm fine.' If anything, I was too busy ripping the butter knife out of my heart that Penny had wedged there. Last night? He had said that last night? Probably around the dinner table as they chortled about the help.
'Sarah, are you all right? You're terribly pale – you look dreadful.'
Way to kick a girl when she's down. The worrying thing was, when it came to Penny Worthington, I don't think that she was deliberately being awful, it was just … her. And if that wasn't bloody terrifying, I didn't know what was.
'Yeah, I think I might go home and lie down for a bit, I don't feel too well. Ben's out with Grace, so I'll just have a nap.'
'Oh yes, he's gone across to Brooklyn to see Nikki, and the Irishman.'
I couldn't help but find that a little amusing. I didn't know how long Nikki had been with her husband – obviously at least long enough for five children – and Penny was still referring to him as the Irishman. No one was safe from offence.
'Well, I'd see you out but … '
'No, it's okay … finish your tea, I can see myself out.'
Penny made herself comfy, like she had no intention of moving from her white-walled parlour. Personally I couldn't wait to get out, the room felt like a Scotchgarded igloo.
'I'll call around next week and visit Grace,' were her parting words.
'Great,' I said, hoping that the look on my face came across more as a smile than a grimace.
I couldn't get through the foyer quick enough, wrestling with my bag and glasses, trying to keep my shit together by getting my shit together. I had come to Penny's to mend a fence and, while I suppose I was kind of successful, it had resulted in me feeling worse. Penny's words haunted me: I don't have to worry about Ben being attracted to you, he told me himself last night.
'Whoa! Look out, where's the fire?'
I stopped so abruptly my sandals squeaked on the floor. I turned to see Alistair Worthington's beaming smile as he descended the stairs.
'People are going to start talking about us,' he joked, and ordinarily I would have found it funny but, based on what Penny had just matter-of-factly told me, he was probably absolutely right. All I wanted to do was head back to the Village and sleep the weekend away.
'So where are you off to then?' he asked.
'Just home, quiet weekend.'
'Home?' He looked horrified. 'You're in New York City, why would you want to do that?'
'Oh, I'm really tired,' I said, my voice breaking at the final word, stupid tears pooling in my eyes, betraying me. Something in Alistair's cheery disposition made me feel even more hopeless.
'Hey, what's wrong?' he said, grabbing my arm and urging me to look at him.
I shook my head, trying to convince him that there was nothing wrong but, as the tears came, there was no use denying it.
'Okay, come on,' he said, glancing behind him and ushering me out the door. 'You're coming with me.'
'Where?' I blubbered.
Alistair directed me to the waiting car, where Dave looked at me with alarm.
'Are you okay, Miss Williams?'
'She's fine, Dave. Not a word, yeah?'
Dave nodded; no doubt he was used to the code of silence when it came to the Worthingtons' comings and goings.
Alistair got into the back seat next to me, and passed me a tissue to wipe my eyes. 'The Blarney Rock on West 33rd Street,' Alistair told Dave, looking at me warily as I blew my nose. 'And make it snappy.'
I sat in an old Irish pub in the heart of Manhattan with Alistair Worthington on a Saturday afternoon, and in a few hours my cares washed away as quickly as the beer was going down. The rules were simple: there was to be no talk about Ben or family, and although I could see the curiosity in Alistair's eyes, he didn't press any further, which I was grateful for. Even with our lighthearted banter – my life in Australia, sports, painting, his life in Chicago, the city he considered his second home – my attempts to try to forget Ben became more difficult any time Alistair smiled, or creased his brow.
Even as I looked over the drinks menu, my eyes settled on something that reminded me of Ben – the 'Dark and Stormy': a long drink consisting of Gosling's Black Seal Rum and Gosling's Ginger Beer.
'I'll have one of those please.' I pointed to the menu.
Alistair peered over my shoulder and grimaced. 'Are you sure that's a good idea?'
'Time to mix it up.'
Alistair didn't seem as convinced, but knew better than to argue with a woman. 'One Dark and Stormy coming up.' He nodded at the barman.
I felt free, my spirits were lifted, I had even laughed with strangers in the bar, feasted on a bowl of nachos and collectively screamed with joy over a Rangers touchdown on the big screen, giving out high fives. I had never felt more like a New Yorker – I was one of them, just your average Joe, enjoying a Saturday arvo in the local, until Dave weaved his way through the crowd.
'Dave, my main man, have a nacho,' Alistair yelled above the chaos, slapping him on the shoulder.
Dave smiled. 'I'm sorry to interrupt, but I've received word that I'm to pick Mr Worthington and Miss Grace up from Brooklyn, so if you want a lift back … '
'Ah, I see, spoiler alert.' Alistair laughed. 'No trouble, Dave.' He downed his last mouthful of beer and turned to me. 'You ready?'
'Aw, I don't wanna,' I pouted, sliding off my stool and realising the ground had moved since last time I was acquainted with it. I giggled. 'Oops.'
Alistair caught me. 'Yep, definitely time for home,' he said, slinking my arm around his shoulder and helping me zig-zag out of the bar.
'Aw, you're the nice one,' I slurred. 'Not the nasty one.'
Alistair chuckled. 'Thought we weren't going to talk about that,' he said, following Dave out of the bar. The cool air of the alley was welcome against my hot skin.
'I didn't mention any names,' I insisted.
Dave opened the door and helped Alistair pile me into the car. 'Watch your head,' he said, and before I knew it, I had faceplanted onto the leather seat, Alistair attempting to stay out of the way of my flailing legs as he moved me along.
'Don't look at my undies,' I mumbled, my eyes closed.
Alistair laughed. 'I'll try not to.'
'Good,' I said, sitting up, my eyes drooping, head bobbing, and before I knew it I was falling, falling, falling, until I felt Alistair's thigh against my cheek. It was the comfiest thigh ever, and just as I drifted off into an alcohol-inspired state of unconsciousness, I was soothed by the gentle strokes of fingers through my hair, pushing the strands away from my face, and what felt like a blanket being pulled over me. I stirred, and saw the silken interior of Alistair's jacket.
Once I realised the car was moving and I was safely on my way back to the Village, I allowed sleep to claim me.
'Come on, Sarah, you're going to have to help me here.' I heard the strain in Alistair's voice, mainly because my head rested right next to his cheek, and I could feel his laboured breaths against my face. 'Trust your room to be on the top floor,' he groaned, readjusting me in his arms before he navigated the final flight of stairs.
'I told you the couch was fine,' I mumbled.
'Oh yeah, Ben would love that as a welcome home.'
I glowered at Alistair's profile. 'I told you not to say his name.' Hearing it was the equivalent of fingernails running down a chalkboard.
'Oh well, here you go.' Alistair twisted the handle and kicked the door open, dumping me on top of my bed. He bent over, hands to his kness, to catch his breath, then he straightened and stretched his back out.
I grabbed my pillow, hugging it close to me and snuggling into my mattress. 'My hero,' I said, smacking my lips together.
My bedroom door opened, and I looked up to see Alistair lingering in the doorway, getting ready to leave. 'Thanks for making me forget,' I said.
Alistair smiled. 'Any time, although you never did manage to tell me what we were drinking to forget.'
My dopey smile slipped from my face as rolled onto my back, my blurry eyes focusing on the ceiling. 'It doesn't matter,' I said before turning away from Alistair's eyes, so much like Ben's. 'None of it matters.' I drifted off to sleep, only to be haunted by Penny Worthington's voice.
Not in a million years.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
The only thing that dragged me from my sleep was the pounding of my head. I squinted into the dark, realising I hadn't moved a muscle from the position Alistair had left me in. The pounding in my head amplified. No, wait. I twisted myself around, following the sound – it was coming from my door.