Two
Nancy Doyle’s knock had barely faded into the hallway when the door creaked open.
Through the narrow gap, Nancy saw a pair of bleary eyes peeking out, framed by a wild tangle of hair. Arianna Stark. Ari. Even in her dishevelled state, there was a glamour to her.
Nancy supposed that was simply her good looks and easy confidence shining through. She was thirty-one, though she could have passed for twenty-one. She was absurdly and effortlessly good-looking, with high cheekbones, a smooth, olive complexion, a hypnotically large set of dark, almost black eyes and thick, long, coal-black hair.
‘Morning, Nancy,’ Ari mumbled, with as much contrition as she could muster, which was to say, very little.
Nancy stepped inside with her usual measured calm, taking in the chaos: rumpled sheets, a lingering scent of stale alcohol, and a scattering of miscellaneous debris.
As she surveyed the scene, she knew exactly why Ari had gotten hammered last night. It wasn’t just another bout of self-destruction. There was an event on the horizon, rushing towards Ari. An ex of hers, Paris, was getting married, and for some reason, Ari had chosen to accept the invite to attend.
Nancy wouldn’t have gone to something like that, but clearly, Ari had more pride than people realised. Which was why she was in this shitty hotel room, probably with a recollection of her night that was roughly the integrity of honeycomb.
Nancy walked in and placed a bag down. ‘Clothes, makeup, shoes.’ She paused. ‘You lost your shoes?’
Ari looked around her. ‘That remains to be seen. They could be in the room somewhere, for all I know.’ Her phone buzzed in her hand. She checked it and rolled her eyes.
‘Everything OK?’ Nancy asked.
Ari tutted. ‘It’s just Jake. I gave him the invite, but he keeps asking questions. And it’s like, at this point, I know what you know, mate.’ She picked up the bag and trotted into the bathroom. ‘Give me ten,’ she said over her shoulder and slammed the door.
Nancy thought it was telling that Ari was referring to Jake as ‘mate.’ Clearly, an unserious relationship. Not that Nancy would ever ask. Anything she knew about the inner workings of Ari’s heart and mind was only ever gleaned. They were not close.
Nancy liked to see it as a warm working relationship, like bread and a toaster. The bread went off to get buttered elsewhere while the toaster waited for its next use. That was Nancy in the car. Awaiting her next pop down.
Nancy knew about the upcoming wedding in Scotland because she was the one driving Ari there, who would be in the back seat of the silver Mercedes-Maybach S-Class. Officially, that was her job—driver.
However, in the two years that Nancy had worked for Ari, it had turned out that there were a few additional bolt-ons which hadn’t been in the original job description. Nancy’s workday had her acting as an errand runner, last-minute reservation magician, finder of lost handbags, caffeine provider, and hangover supplies collector.
Nancy had accepted that working for Ari meant expecting the unexpected. Still, the paycheque was decent, and Ari, while chaotic, was never rude to her. You couldn’t guarantee that with the moneyed. So she wasn’t thinking about going anywhere. Not unless things with Ari took a downward turn.
But until that day, Nancy would do her job, take her money, and keep her distance from the worst of Ari’s messes. It wasn’t personal, and it wasn’t complicated. The sweet spot.
Nancy parked herself on a chair and re-checked the route for the big Scottish journey while she awaited Ari. It was going to take a few days to get to Dunmore Hall, with one stopover. Though Nancy couldn’t memorise the route as such, she liked to know what it was about. She could only hope that Ari wouldn’t throw her any curveballs.
Ari walked out of the bathroom, stunningly fresh and quaffed. Nancy didn’t know how the hell she’d done it.
‘How do I look?’ Ari asked.
‘Very put together,’ Nancy said.
Ari sighed. ‘Wow. Sweep me off my feet with the compliments, why don’t you?’
Nancy didn’t engage. It was best if you didn’t with Ari. ‘OK, ready to roll?’ she asked, standing.
‘Yes. Though I’d love a—’
‘There’s coffee and painkillers in the car,’ Nancy assured her.
Ari moaned. ‘You’re a legend. Never leave me. I would die in a week.’
‘There’s also water,’ Nancy told her.
‘I probably won’t drink the water, but I appreciate the thought,’ Ari said with a cheeky grin.
‘I know you won’t,’ Nancy said agreeably. ‘But I feel compelled to at least try to hydrate you.’
With one final glance around the dismal hotel room, Nancy opened the door wider and gestured for Ari to follow.
Together, they stepped out into the corridor, leaving behind the remnants of a night that had been as unpredictable as the woman she was determined to help navigate another day.