Sleepless in Manhattan Page 6

  ‘No plans. Not that I know of, anyway.’ What he did know was that whatever was behind Beth’s apparent good mood had nothing to do with him. To Danny’s knowledge, the only thing that his girlfriend had done today was go to work. Hardly anything exciting about that. He knew that she was great at her job, threw everything into her movie-themed shoe displays, and made terrific commission from some of her very rich clients, especially at this time of year. But in his mind, unless someone had walked in and spent twenty grand on stuff, there was little about a day in Carlisle’s to be overly giddy about.

  Billy chuckled merrily. ‘Ach, well, maybe you do and you don’t know it. You know what women are like: always keeping us on our toes,’ he joked in his Scottish lilt. ‘Though I have yet to find one to do that for me,’ he added, somewhat wistfully.

  ‘See you later, Billy.’

  As Danny got out of the elevator and approached the door to his apartment, he heard the sound of cheery music from inside: ‘Sleigh Ride’ by the Ronettes, one of Beth’s favourite Christmas tunes. She loved this time of year and, much to Danny’s amusement, always insisted on playing a Christmas album while they were decorating the tree.

  But they hadn’t done that yet this year.

  Frowning confusedly, he fished his keys out of his pocket and, as he opened the door, the music got louder. He placed his briefcase down and was immediately met with a dancing and singing Beth in the kitchen.

  Danny had to smile. She had obviously not heard him enter, nor did she realise that her performance now had an audience. With Brinkley at her feet, and pans strewn across the counter as she prepped the dinner, she spun around the kitchen, extracting a corkscrew from one cabinet and pirouetting to the small wine rack they kept on an opposite counter. She then did a twirl, using the wine bottle as her microphone and continued to sing about how lovely the weather was for a sleigh ride.

  Just as she was about to reach the cabinet where they kept their wine glasses, she faltered and started to laugh, embarrassed. She had finally noticed him standing there.

  ‘Bravo,’ he smiled, applauding. However he might be feeling, it was impossible not to get caught up in Beth’s infectious joy, and Danny’s heart twisted a little as he realised just how much he loved this girl, despite everything.

  And more to the point, how it would kill him to intentionally break her heart.

  ‘Why that song? We’re not decorating the tree tonight, are we?’ Danny called out over the music.

  She put the wine bottle and corkscrew down and did a small curtsy for show. Then she picked up the remote control to the iPhone dock and pointed it across the room, decreasing the volume of the music.

  ‘Nope, just in a good mood. Felt like some Christmas cheer, that’s all.’

  But Danny continued to probe further, noticing that Beth had a semi manic look about her just then. The way someone might look if they just got off a roller coaster: face flushed, cheeks glowing, eyes happy. It was one thing to be in a good mood – indeed, Beth was in a good mood pretty much all the time – but something else was going on here.

  And that bothered Danny because he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  ‘A good day at work, then?’ he asked.

  She shrugged noncommittally, and turned her attention back to the cabinet to reach for a wine glass. ‘Yeah, it was fine, typical holiday shopping craziness. Marley Dempsey came in too, you know, the hotel heiress? That will be a nice commission cheque next month,’ she smiled, and flipped her hair over her shoulder.

  OK, so a good sale, that must be it – but . . .

  At that moment, Beth turned back towards him for a split second and that’s when he noticed it. Yes, her face was flushed, no doubt from the exertion of dancing and singing, but there was something else. The faintest blush was creeping up around her neck, making its way to find a home on her face. He had seen that blush before. That much, he was sure of. Beth blushed like that when she was nervous, and excited, or . . . guilty about something.

  Danny’s eyes narrowed. But what was she guilty about? Something was going on. He knew Beth’s moods, knew everything about her. One thing was for sure, he could read her like an open book and he knew without a doubt that something had happened. Something, or someone, had caused Beth’s jubilant mood. And he also knew it certainly wasn’t him.

  That thought troubled him. But then he wondered why he was being this way. After all, he had been keeping something from her. Something huge. Wasn’t he being a hypocrite here? Or was sneaking around like this making him paranoid?

  Goodness knew it wasn’t the first time he’d seen her happy and dancing around the kitchen like the kids from Footloose. Though that had mostly been in the early days, Danny thought wistfully. There hadn’t been too many opportunities for fun and whimsy over the last couple of years, since money had become tight and more grown-up issues had gotten in the way.

  So, yes, it could be that Beth was just in a happy mood, he thought. But again, this was a particularly jubilant one, and the giddiness certainly suggested more. She hadn’t looked this happy in quite some time, and Danny knew that the last time he’d seen Beth so flushed and giddy he had inspired it. He tried to think back. Probably that time they were in Charleston a couple of years back, when she convinced him to do that thing from The Notebook.

  Beth had coaxed Danny into re-enacting the famous movie kiss. It had been kind of embarrassing at the time but she’d been so eager to try it, and so thrilled afterwards that it was impossible not to join in. There was a picture of it somewhere, Beth in Danny’s arms, her legs wrapped around his waist as they joined their lips, the camera’s self-timer coming into play, as they couldn’t quite brave asking a stranger to take part in such an intimate moment. Of course, it wasn’t raining and she had been nowhere as graceful as the girl in the movie, but it had been good fun . . .

  Or maybe it had been when they’d rented a sailboat and took it out on the river last summer?

  No matter, deep down Danny knew one thing: the last time Beth had looked as if she was walking on air with happiness it had been because of something he had done.

  He shook his head out of frustration when he realised that Beth had been speaking. He was completely distracted, his thoughts going a mile a minute. ‘Sorry, what was that?’ he asked.

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘You OK? I just asked if you wanted a glass of wine before dinner.’

  ‘Yes. I mean no. I mean, yes, I’m OK. And no, I don’t want a glass of wine before or with dinner actually,’ he replied absently, as he tried to wrap his head around all this.

  Suddenly, Danny felt a tightening sensation in his chest as if a boa constrictor was wrapping itself around his body, squeezing the life out of him. He had confessed as much to Adele earlier, that he didn’t know how much longer he could go on living a lie. He knew that coming clean to Beth was exactly what Adele wanted, what she’d been telling him to do right from the start, but to her credit, she didn’t push it. And he certainly wasn’t going to come clean tonight, and bring Beth’s happy world crashing down – not when she was in such a great mood. She didn’t deserve that; didn’t deserve any of this, not when all she’d ever done was love him so completely, and never wanted anything in return.

  Right then Danny felt nauseous.

  Beth took a sip of wine out of the glass that she had poured for herself. ‘I was going to make spaghetti. I thought that since you’re home earlier tonight, maybe we should do something nicer for dinner. A bottle of wine, some pasta, and move the table over to the window? Watch the Freedom Tower and all the lights. After all, we have a skyline view that people would pay good money for in a restaurant. Then afterwards, if we have time, we could put up the tree . . .’ She smiled encouragingly, but Danny’s mind was elsewhere. He’d barely heard a word she’d said.

  ‘Right,’ he murmured distractedly, his mind racing. ‘Ah . . . why don’t you go ahead without me. I have some work to finish up; I’ll probably be a while.’

  He turne
d away from Beth, lost in his own guilt, and didn’t see the crestfallen look that swept across her face.

  ‘OK. Maybe I’ll just have it in front of the TV then,’ Beth replied, her good mood instantly deflated. ‘And the Christmas tree can wait till another time . . .’

  Chapter 5

  For the next few days Beth felt as if she was on high alert, looking, watching, keeping her eyes peeled around the store. She felt giddy like a schoolgirl – and a bit idiotic in the process – but while she loved Danny deeply (despite the rough patch they seemed to be going through lately), she had to admit she was enjoying this . . . flirtation of sorts with Ryan.

  She knew that she shouldn’t feel this way – that she shouldn’t even be entertaining the idea of liking the attention – but the attention was nice. And that’s all it was, she told herself, she was just enjoying the unique glow that came with being made to feel special. It was harmless fun, that was all.

  She supposed her current state of mind also came down to the fact that she was feeling a little ignored elsewhere. Danny’s rebuff of her efforts a few nights before had really hurt. She had tried to do something nice, cook them dinner, spend some time just relaxing together after a rough few weeks. And his response? That it would be better for her to eat alone. That he had work to do. Again.

  So that’s what Beth had done. She had sat alone on the sofa and eaten by herself, watching the TV instead of the city lights. Though technically not alone. Rather, she had eaten the pasta while Brinkley drooled and begged for titbits alongside her.

  Danny didn’t emerge from the confines of his office for the rest of the evening, and she had gone to bed before him.

  Then this morning, when she woke, she discovered he had already left for work. She couldn’t deny that the thought of something being truly wrong with their partnership scared her. But at the same time, what was she supposed to do? And just where exactly was their future headed if they continued on this course, with Danny being so remote and absent? Certainly nowhere near . . .

  Beth felt her brow furrow at the thought, and realised that her subconscious was leading her to say that word – a word that she and Danny so rarely uttered that it seemed like some form of taboo. Marriage. And why didn’t they mention it very often, she wondered now – or, indeed, at all?

  Beth knew why. And much of the onus fell on her. When all of their friends had, over the years, coupled off and subsequently gone down the aisle, Danny had said that he just wasn’t interested in get married for the sake of it. Beth had just gone along with this at the time because in a way she agreed with him. It seemed there was a lot of engagement and wedding competitiveness amongst those same friends, so much so that the commitment they were supposed to be making seemed buried in the madness. Danny was right: the real romance was in the commitment, not the wedding, and she felt proud and happy that they were on exactly the same wavelength in that regard.

  But much further down the line, years later, whenever the question came up amongst those now (mostly unhappily) married friends as to why Beth and Danny hadn’t taken the plunge, the discussion seemed to cause discomfort and friction. So they began avoiding the conversation altogether.

  While it hadn’t bothered her before, Beth realised that it was starting to bother her a lot now. It was what people in love did, wasn’t it?

  She knew that she and Danny had taken a step in the right direction that time in Venice, when they’d privately and symbolically locked their love on the bridge, supposedly for a lifetime.

  But surely after so many years, instead of ducking and diving the issue, the next step was to publicly commit to spending the rest of their lives together; and proclaim to the world that this was the person they each wanted to be with, forsaking all others.

  As if on cue, Beth spied Ryan passing through the main promenade of the store, on his way to the men’s section. She smiled as she noticed him scoping out the shoe department; clearly he was looking for her. So while it seemed that Ryan had taken the news that Beth was already attached into consideration, it evidently didn’t stop him being so friendly.

  ‘What are you doing wandering around by ladies’ shoes?’ she teased, as he crossed the floor to approach her. ‘I’m beginning to think you might have a fetish.’

  Ryan laughed and his emerald-green eyes danced. ‘What? You think I like to parade after hours around my place in a pair of five-inch platforms?’

  Beth looked him up and down. ‘Somehow I don’t see you in platforms. You’re already tall. Platforms are just for shorties like me who need a leg up.’ She did a little, ladylike jump. ‘I see you more as a strappy sandal kind of guy.’

  ‘You aren’t that short, titch,’ Ryan laughed. ‘Anyway, I didn’t come over to talk shoes, I’m sure you do enough of that on a daily basis, so I’ll spare you the monotony.’

  ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

  He put his hands in his pockets and smiled at her, an adorable dimple forming on his right cheek. ‘Well, since it’s close to lunchtime, I just wanted to find out if you’d like to grab a bite somewhere.’ He extracted his hands from his pockets and put them up innocently. ‘Purely platonic, of course. I get that you have a guy at home and that’s cool. Not trying to step on anyone’s toes . . . in platforms or otherwise,’ he added chuckling, ‘Just hungry, and thought you might be too.’

  Beth smiled and felt immediately at ease. OK, this was fine. He’d said it himself, purely platonic. ‘So, what do you say? Lunch? I need a fellow New York transplant like you to show a newbie like me where I should be eating,’ he continued, with a lopsided smile that truly was irresistible.

  Just lunch. Completely harmless.

  ‘All right,’ Beth acquiesced, with a resigned smile. ‘You’re on.’

  Half an hour later, sitting at a high-top table in La Birreria, a rooftop brewpub in the Flatiron District above Mario Batali’s Italian grocery store, Eataly, Ryan had Beth in stitches as he recounted how when he first arrived in the city, he had accidentally worn a Boston Red Sox baseball hat to a sports bar playing a Yankees game.

  ‘How on earth did you make it out alive?’ she laughed as she plucked a chip from her plate and popped it in her mouth. When Beth had first arrived in the States, being Irish, she hadn’t a notion about baseball or the famed rivalry between the New York Yankees and Boston Red Sox teams, but Danny had very quickly filled in the blanks. Over time she’d begun to follow and appreciate the game as much as she used to enjoy Gaelic hurling and football back home in Galway.

  Ryan splayed his hands, expressing complete innocence. ‘I didn’t do it on purpose. It is just a hat I have. I really thought I was going to get my ass kicked.’

  ‘That would have been a mild punishment. Honestly, if you’re going to live in this city, you’re going to have to be schooled in what to wear, or more likely what not to.’ Though Beth noticed he was doing quite nicely with the former in his Tom Ford shirt and J Crew trousers. ‘You’re not in Kansas any more, Toto,’ she added, grinning mischievously. ‘Besides, where’d an LA guy get a Red Sox hat? And you don’t seem like much of a baseball guy, if you don’t mind me saying.’

  Ryan chuckled and stole one of her chips. ‘What, I look like a pretty boy to you just because I can put myself together for work? I have a life outside of that, you know. Besides, I’m originally from Boston; I lived there till I was about ten or so.’

  Beth feigned shock. ‘So you did know better! Hmm, now I get it. You like to live on the edge. I don’t even think that I feel sorry for you now.’ She laughed aloud and took a bite of the burger in front of her. ‘Not that I can judge. I’m a Mets fan.’ Danny was a lifelong fan of the team, and Beth had gone along to countless games with him and the Bishop family at the stadium in Flushing Meadows.

  Ryan watched her with narrowed eyes and Beth suddenly felt self-conscious. ‘What?’ She picked up her napkin and wiped the corners of her mouth. ‘Do I have something on my face?’

  ‘No, no. You’re fine. I guess I’m just
impressed. Not only about the Mets thing. I haven’t known too many women who would dig into a whole burger at lunchtime, or really anytime. Getting used to East Coast habits again is going to be an education. Not to mention the weather. Brrr.’

  ‘So how long were you in LA?’

  ‘Since I left Boston, so for the best part of twenty years now. My parents still live there, in a retirement community in Malibu. I’ll go back to visit now and then, but I am done with that scene. What about you? With that accent, you’re obviously not from New York . . . Irish, yes?’

  She smiled. ‘And my family keeps telling me I’ve lost my accent. Yep, I’m from a small town just outside Galway in Ireland. Came to the US after college and ended up staying. Travelled quite a lot in between, too, but there is no other place I would rather live. And—’ She stopped mid-sentence, realising what she was about to say.

  ‘And what?’

  But she knew Ryan wouldn’t let her off the hook too easily so she continued, feeling a bit silly about what she was about to admit but deciding to go ahead anyway. ‘Well, this city . . . from a very early age, I always felt like I already . . . knew it. And when I finally came here, I realised I did – know it, I mean.’

  He looked intrigued. ‘How so?’

  ‘Because of the movies.’ When he looked blank, she went on. ‘Every street corner, every skyscraper, Fifth Avenue, Tiffany’s, Central Park, the Empire State Building – they were all so familiar to me. So when I finally got here I didn’t need to worry about settling in because it already felt like home.’

  Beth thought back to the early days with Danny when she had persuaded him to take one of those open-top bus tours available all over Manhattan. After some initial protest, simply because it was such a touristy thing to do, he finally agreed, and even seemed to enjoy himself.

  That was one thing that Beth had to admit. There were times when Danny might protest over something – calling it clichéd or silly – but then his mood always changed, lightened, when he saw the joy it inspired in her. Of course, some of the stuff on the tour was cheesy – like rubbing the Wall Street bull’s bronze testicles, or taking photographs with the Naked Cowboy on Times Square, but life was too short to be so cynical or judgemental over something that would provide some laughter and create a memory.