‘Chilly? Honey, winter in New York is what made that guy coin the phrase “hell freezes over”.’
‘Ah, stop with the cynical New Yorker thing, you love this time of year too. Though I’m really regretting not bringing a warmer jacket and scarf. Still, it’s nothing some hot chocolate and a toasty fire won’t fix,’ Beth smiled through chattering teeth, and Jodi rolled her eyes.
‘The eternal optimist as always. Remind me again why we are actually friends. So act like one and be my wingman tonight? Otherwise I might just have to resort to asking the new guy, and cougar I ain’t.’
Beth laughed. ‘You mean Ryan from the men’s department?’ An attractive guy in his early thirties had started in Carlisle’s the week before, and his movie-star good looks were sending much of the female staff weak at the knees.
Beth had to admit that he was pretty cute too, but agreed that he was perhaps a little on the young side for her friend. ‘OK, OK, if you’re that desperate, lead on. Never let it be said that I’m not a good friend – or a proper Irishwoman,’ she joked, succumbing to Jodi’s pleading (as well as the prospect of indoor warmth).
***
They ended up staying out much later than Beth had meant to, but that often happened when she agreed to one of Jodi’s happy-hour schemes.
Eventually bidding her friend goodbye, she hailed a cab to take her downtown, having done her duty. Jodi had attracted quite a few decent-looking men at the bar and, more impressively, had even landed an invitation to dinner the following week.
The cab pulled up in front of Beth’s apartment building on Gold Street in Lower Manhattan. She pulled a twenty out of her wallet and handed it to the driver. Asking for some change and then providing him with a tip, she stepped from the car and fished her keys out of her purse.
She also grabbed her phone and tapped out a quick text message to Jodi, letting her know as promised that she had made it home without problems. At the same time, Beth realised that she had no new incoming texts nor had she missed any calls.
Strange, she thought. She had phoned Danny earlier and ended up leaving a voicemail for him, letting him know of her plans. But there was nothing back. Not a call, a text or a peep of any sort. He was usually very good about communicating.
Things must be seriously busy at work, she thought as she closed the distance between the kerb and the door of her building. Billy, the concierge, spotted her approach and rushed to the entryway of the lobby to greet her.
‘Welcome home, Beth,’ he said, opening the door. ‘A late one for you tonight? They’re keeping you busy at Carlisle’s,’ he continued in the lovely Scottish brogue he had yet to shake off despite over a decade living in Brooklyn. Like her, he’d left his native roots behind for the bright lights of New York City.
She smiled guiltily. ‘No, I’ve been off for hours. I was actually out playing wingman for Jodi.’
Billy shook his head; he knew Jodi well and was known to flirt mercilessly with her whenever she visited. Her friend usually reciprocated, easily wooed by the handsome six-footer who was around the same age, and from what Beth could tell, also single.
‘Ah, I see. Breaks my heart, you know. Breaks my heart. How can the likes of me compete with a Wall Street banker?’ he said morosely, though he had a smile on his face.
In Beth’s opinion, this lovely, kind-hearted Scotsman had plenty on a Wall Street banker in the scheme of things. Fat bank accounts weren’t the only thing in life, and at least Billy had his soul intact.
‘Have you seen Danny come in tonight?’ she asked him. ‘I know he was working late.’
Billy closed the door behind her and nodded an affirmation. ‘That I have. But he went up and was back out again fifteen minutes later. Didn’t get to talk to him, though. I was on the phone with Mrs Lovejoy in 15H and you know how she prattles on. But don’t tell her that I said so.’
Beth smiled. Indeed, it was common knowledge in the building that Doris Lovejoy was a talker. You definitely didn’t want to run into her in the lobby if you were in a rush. But even with chatty Doris in mind, Beth was disappointed that her boyfriend wasn’t home. Another late night, obviously.
Brushing off her concern, she watched as Billy punched the button for the lift.
‘I’m sure it’s just something with work,’ she said. ‘We already had to cancel our long weekend away because his firm has a new client. It’s OK, though. I suppose we have to pay for this stack of bricks somehow.’
Their apartment building was far from a ‘stack of bricks’, being recent in its construction, and centred in the heart of the Financial District. Danny had instantly fallen in love with its modern design and rare waterside location when they first viewed it a few years back. While the rent was way too expensive for Beth’s taste (and indeed her occupation) Danny had been earning a lot more at the time, and had talked her round by offering to pay the bulk of the monthly costs.
‘Glad to hear that things are picking up for him. God knows, things are still tough out there at the moment,’ Billy commented. ‘Though he did indeed look a bit stressed today when he was leaving.’
Beth knew that Danny’s marketing job came with considerable pressure – especially during the busy holiday season – and he wasn’t the kind of guy who handled stress well. He bottled up all his frustrations and worries, despite her encouraging him to include her and talk it out, as partners should. But she knew that wasn’t his natural inclination. Much like his father, Danny Bishop was the type who would shut down his feelings and keep everything in, whereas Beth tended to wear her heart on her sleeve.
‘I’m sure it will be fine,’ she stated, more as an affirmation to herself than anything else, before throwing Billy a departing smile as the lift doors opened. She stepped in and hit the button for the twenty-eighth floor.
Solitary inside, Beth leaned against the back wall and closed her eyes briefly. Exhaustion fell across her in waves and suddenly the only thing she wanted was to cuddle her and Danny’s little spaniel, Brinkley, named after the cute dog inYou’ve Got Mail, and fall into bed.
The buzz she had from a couple of Baileys coffees earlier was gone, and in its place a headache played at her temples. Rubbing a finger on the side of her head, she visualised the bottle of aspirin in her bathroom, and couldn’t wait to meet the sheets of her bed.
The lift pinged as it reached her floor and Beth opened her eyes and stepped out. Turning left towards her apartment, she rounded a corner and was met with Courtney, her teenage next-door neighbour, locking Beth and Danny’s front door.
Seeing Beth, Courtney jumped as if she had been caught in the act of doing something wrong. Her right hand flew to her chest, and she placed it over her heart. ‘Oh, Beth, you scared me. Sorry, I was just checking on Brinkley. I took him out at five o’clock and I just checked on him again, figuring he needed a potty break.’ Courtney knew their work schedule and often helped out with the little dog’s care.
