by Melissa Hill
Beth wasn’t completely sold on that, even though she and Danny regularly downplayed any considerations of marriage where their relationship was concerned. But she wasn’t about to start another dialogue about the pros and cons.
‘Anyway,’ Jodi continued, ‘what are you doing here this morning? I thought you and lover boy were heading south this weekend?’
Beth picked up some boxes and turned back towards the stockroom. ‘Danny had something come up last minute. He encouraged me to go ahead anyway, maybe meet up with some of the others, but it would be no fun without him. I might as well stay here and do something productive.’
Ever suspicious, Jodi narrowed her eyes. ‘And what came up that he felt you should still go?’
Beth smiled good-naturedly. As far as Jodi was concerned, there wasn’t a decent man in all of Manhattan – hell, in all of the world. But Beth knew different.
‘It’s just a work thing. His firm has a new client starting a big PR campaign in January, and the entire office has been put into lockdown over something last minute. And that’s fine by me. Especially since the company has been looking shaky as of late.’ She frowned. ‘He’s had a lot of hours cut recently, so it’s good that things are looking better. I don’t want him getting laid off, so he needs to put in the time if they ask him. Simple as that. We can always do the Sunshine State some other time.’
‘Hmm.’ Jodi regarded her sceptically.
Beth swatted at her friend with a playful hand. ‘Oh, stop it. Danny’s a good guy, you know that.’
Jodi snorted again. ‘Well, I’m glad that while you may be a hopeless romantic and always only a heartbeat away from re-enacting the best of Meg Ryan, at least you aren’t caught up in that obsession most women over thirty in this town have about marriage. At least you’re sane in that aspect. Because if you weren’t we just couldn’t be friends,’ she added wickedly. ‘I’m going to go put those boxes away, OK? Man the floor and I’ll be back in no time.’
Jodi disappeared into the stockroom and Beth smiled after her older, cynical friend. It was true that she might be a hopeless romantic, but also that she didn’t obsess about marriage – at least, not until faced with the question in the form of a happily engaged couple with a look of pity on their faces, she thought wryly. She and Danny worked well together, and Beth knew without a doubt in her mind that he was the one for her. They were in love, and dedicated and committed to each other for the long haul. She didn’t need a white dress, a piece of paper (or fairy-tale slippers) to tell her that.
But still, she couldn’t deny that things had changed since the early days. OK, so she didn’t get as many butterflies in her stomach at the sight of him as she used to, but their relationship wasn’t what you would call stale, not by a long shot. It was just different.
Though maybe that was simply what happened when time passed and familiarity grew. In romantic movies, nobody ever got to see what happened to the hero and heroine after the credits rolled. Possibly for good reason, as after happily ever after didn’t necessarily make for an interesting story.
Still, Beth couldn’t deny that she wished her and Danny’s once-passionate kisses occurred a bit more often, and that these days unexpected romantic moments weren’t so few and far between.
But, she told herself, she still had the memories: the romance that was part of her and Danny’s story over the years. And that was it, Beth thought: it was their story that made them special together, that made them dedicated to each other. That was the foundation of their love. She and Danny Bishop had been writing their own particular romantic movie all throughout their relationship.
She remembered a moment, very early in the relationship, long before they had moved in together, before they’d even said, ‘I love you’ (though Beth had known it at the time). It was one of her favourite memories.
It was summertime, and they had just been out for dinner in Little Italy, she was still in her little black dress and Danny had thrown his jacket over her shoulders. They had found themselves at the foot of 58th Street, in a spot just overlooking the East River and the Queensboro Bridge, which was lit up with what seemed like a million little sparkling fairy lights.
And it was there that they’d sat and talked about everything and anything, until eventually the sun had started to peek out over the horizon. Beth remembered just how badly she wanted to tell dawn to wait a while longer, that she wasn’t finished with the night yet – that she needed a few more hours of darkness as she learned about this wonderful man who was sitting next to her.
It had been magical. And though Beth didn’t realise it until later, it had also been a scene – quite literally – from out of a movie. Woody Allen and Diane Keaton had filmed a famous piece from Manhattan in that exact spot, sitting on the very same bench. But she had never seen the movie until one night months later at her old apartment, when Danny was flipping through TV channels, and the iconic clip appeared onscreen.
As she watched, she felt as if stars had been trickling down upon her from heaven. It was a sign, a sign from the romantic movie gods – or perhaps even her beloved grandmother – that she and Danny were meant to be together.
Instantly hooked, she had insisted on watching Manhattan from the very beginning, and while the more unconventional production wasn’t usually her style, the film immediately took on a very special meaning.
Smiling at the memory, Beth realised that despite Jodi’s misgivings, sometimes romance could indeed be like something from the movies – and in her and Danny’s case it was even better.
Chapter 2
‘Come on, Beth, you’re really refusing to come out for a drink with me? You’re a shame to your countrymen,’ Jodi added wickedly, as after work the pair stepped onto Lexington Avenue and into the prickling cold that was the city in December.
Fairy-lit trees lining the path along the avenue twinkled in the darkness, and street lamps were adorned with Christmas lights shaped like angels, stars and candy canes. Beth, who never tired of the city at this time of year, gave a satisfied sigh at the romance of it all.
‘I can’t imagine the North Pole being colder,’ her friend scowled, as a wave of steam from a nearby subway vent enveloped them.
Beth’s hand went to her neck in an effort to keep it warm in the absence of a scarf. ‘It really is chilly, isn’t it?’ She shivered as goosebumps appeared on the back of her neck, realising she had been out of the warmth of Carlisle’s for less than thirty seconds, and was already freezing cold.
‘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 din
ner 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 in You’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.
Beth looked at her watch. It was close to nine p.m. ‘Thanks for that. I hope we didn’t keep you up too late?’
Courtney tightened the band that secured her dark brown ponytail. ‘No prob. Anyway, Danny’s not home yet either. I figured you guys would be, like, out together.’
‘Still at work, poor thing.’ Though the realisation of the lateness of the hour made Beth even more aware of how hard Danny was working just now.
‘Right. Do you need me to come by tomorrow? I wasn’t sure of your schedule since, like, your Florida thing got cancelled. That sucks, by the way. I read about this badass party Katy Perry was supposed to be hosting in Miami this weekend. Too bad you’re gonna miss out.’
Beth had to smile. Courtney liked to believe she and Danny led a glam life (possibly based on the travel photos that decorated the walls of their apartment) and she didn’t have the heart to burst the girl’s bubble and tell her that there wasn’t a chance in hell of them scoring an invitation to a celeb party.
‘I’m sure we’ll get there sometime. Thanks again, Courtney.’
‘No biggie.’ With a final snap of her gum, the teenager disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as Beth unlocked the door of her apartment she was greeted with the noisy patter of little paws as Brinkley streaked through the living room. The small spaniel lunged forward, bouncing the last few feet to close the distance between him and Beth. Grinning a happy doggy grin, his tongue lolled to one side of his mouth and he placed his front paws as far up as they could stretch on Beth’s legs, throwing his ears back and licking the air around her face as she leaned down to greet him.
‘Well, hello to you, too,’ she cooed, kissing the dog’s copper-coloured head and scratching behind his long, floppy ears. ‘Did you get to see Danny when he came home?’ The dog made some satisfied puppy noises; what they thought of as Brinkley’s ability to answer questions in his own doggy language. ‘Well, that’s good. At least one of us did.’
Beth’s flat-heeled boots clacked against the hardwood floor as she went through to the living room, flicking on lights. And even though it was dark outside and the apartment building was lit, she threw open the privacy drapes that covered the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the western-facing side. As she did, she took in what was undoubtedly the biggest selling point of this apartment (and the reason for at least fifty per cent of the rental cost); the breathtaking view that welcomed her from the twenty-eighth floor.
Lower Manhattan was awash in a sea of lights, and in the midst of all of it was the soaring spectacle of h
ope and optimism that was the Freedom Tower. Beth never tired of this almost celluloid view – the cityscape of Manhattan lying quite literally at her feet – and she lingered at the window for a moment, taking it all in.
Brinkley waited patiently beside her until she snapped out of her reverie and headed towards the kitchen, planning to make a cup of camomile tea and take some aspirin before settling into bed for the night. As she placed a mug of water in the microwave, she noticed a piece of paper on the worktop with Danny’s familiar handwriting on it.
‘Hi, sorry I didn’t call. Hectic day, and just came home to grab some clothes. Going to pull an all-nighter at the office, so don’t wait up. Need to power through on this creative brief for the new campaign. Call you in the morning. D. xoxoxo’
Beth sighed. Sometimes when the company’s new client campaigns were hot and heavy, Danny did stay overnight at the office, loading up on energy drinks and caffeine before sneaking in a couple of hours’ sleep on the couch in the waiting room. No doubt he would end up taking a quick shower in the morning in the gym attached to the company building on 34th Street.
The microwave beeped and she carefully extracted the mug with her hot water. Slipping in a camomile teabag, she waited for it to steep, when a picture on the wall on the other side of the breakfast bar caught her attention. Beth gave the teabag a few more dunks before shuffling out of the kitchen, and heading directly to the picture. The photo, held in an antique-looking gilded frame that was in direct contrast to the contemporary feel of their apartment’s décor, had been taken in Venice, Italy, six years ago.
In it, Beth and Danny had their arms wrapped around each other as they sat in a gondola off the Riva degli Schiavoni. Bright greenish-blue lagoon waters not altogether dissimilar to the colour of Danny’s eyes sparkled around them, and the island of San Giorgio Maggiore – which Monet famously portrayed at dusk – was behind them.