Chapter Text
The Undomestic God
Chapter One
Are You Stressed?
Benedict Bridgerton had made a mistake. A huge, colossal, earth shattering, career destroying mistake.
How could he have done something so stupid? So simple? Once they all found out he would be fired and his life would be over.
He couldn’t believe he had really done it.
He had forgotten his phone at the office.
The world was over.
Okay, relax. Breathe. It’s not that big a problem. Humans had survived for millions of years without iPhones. He could go a few hours unplugged from the world.
Nervously his fingers tapped on the plastic tablecloth of the greasy spoon dinner. He tried to stare at the menu with glossy pictures of burgers and milkshakes. Some Ariana Grande song played idly in the background and the waitress in the yellow dress took the order at the next table over.
A ring sounded.
Benedict didn’t even register reaching for his phone until his hand was stuffed in the empty jacket pocket where his phone should have been.
Relax. It was just the bell in the kitchen to call in an order. His phone wasn’t here and that was okay.
God, was he sweating?
“Benedict?” his sister, Eloise looked over her menu strangely at him. “Are you okay?’
“Fine,” his voice was a pitch too high. He cleared his throat and repeated, “I’m fine.”
The concern didn’t drop from Eloise’s face; it only deepened. Benedict quickly buried his face in his menu.
“I heard the burger is great here,” Benedict tried changing the subject.
“Hmm,” was Eloise’s noncommittal answer.
He didn’t need his phone for a lunch date with his sister, but he would feel a lot better if he had it on him.
It wasn’t like he was addicted to his phone. Sure, he checked it so frequently it had become a muscle memory that he had unfortunately performed about six time already. But Benedict didn’t need his phone. He could do without.
…But what if Dorset called with those amendments? Benedict had been waiting for a week for that email, and half a million pounds were on the line.
Or worse, what if Reynolds called about that financial restructuring he had been hinting at for months?
Of course it would be now that Reynolds emailed him. How stupid was Benedict? He had just put it down on the desk for one second. How could he have just left it sitting there as he left for lunch?
His ears rang with the chirps of all the text messages and emails he was missing.
“Okay, seriously what is going on?” Eloise demanded. “You look as fidgety as Colin did when he had to confess he left baby Augie on the bus.”
“I just,” Benedict sighed. “I left my phone at the office.”
Eloise blinked, “So?”
“So what?”
“Exactly. So what if you forgot your phone? You’re here and now having a birthday lunch with me.”
Benedict’s jaw dropped, “Eloise, you’re a lawyer too, you know exactly how important it is to have your phone on you at all times.”
“I regularly turn off my phone. My clients don’t need me every second of every day.”
“That’s ridiculous, what if something important came up?”
“It’s not ridiculous. Just because I’m not addicted to my phone like you-”
“I’m not addicted to my phone!” Benedict snapped.
“You got kicked out of the theatre on Mum’s birthday because you wouldn’t stop texting during The Mousetrap!”
“Anthony and Kate did too!”
“They are not models to exemplify!” Eloise took a deep breath to collect herself. “Ben, there’s a reason I asked you to lunch today.”
“I know, because it’s my birthday.”
“No, it’s because I’m worried about you. You have absolutely no work life balance.”
Benedict rolled his eyes. Work life balance was just a term HR managers had made up to make job packages look more appealing to new hires.
And why did he need balance? Work was his life. It was where all of his family, friends, and relationships had come from. Besides it wasn’t like he didn’t take vacations. He was comfortably off to take luxury ones frequently, in fact he had just gone to Greece with Colin for his law school graduation.
…No wait, that couldn’t be right. Colin graduated the same year Simon and Daphne met, and they now had four children.
He must have been forgetting his last vacation. Yes, he simply couldn’t remember for this moment under the pressuring gaze of Eloise.
“Benedict,” Eloise sighed, “I’m serious, you worry me. It seems like ever since you joined Sharma Danbury you’ve sold your soul to them. We rarely meet up, you rarely date, and your Uber Eats bills are atrocious.”
“How do you know what my Uber Eats bills look like?”
“I still can’t get your account unhooked from my phone from that one time you used it.”
“Maybe you should get Lucy to look at it.”
“You’re changing the subject,” Eloise said. “Look, I know you’re working towards Partner. So am I at Crane Partners. But I’ve been working with my therapist on how to disengage the job from my personal life and how to handle the stress. She gave me a little questionnaire to help me reflect and I would like you to take it.”
Benedict sighed; had it been any other sibling than Eloise, the answer would have been no.
But it was Eloise.
“Fine,” Benedict said, “I’ll take your little quiz and you’ll see I’m just fine.”
Eloise didn’t look convinced but pulled out a folded sheet of paper from her purse.
“Question one,” she read out. “Would you consider yourself stressed?”
“No. I’m not stressed,” Benedict said firmly.
“Benedict,” Eloise warned.
He reconsidered, “I’m … busy. Plenty of people are busy. I have a high-powered job, my career is important to me, and I enjoy it.”
“As much as you enjoyed painting?”
Benedict shot her a look. That was a door that was closed and that was the end of the discussion.
“Come on, Benedict,” Eloise said. “With all the projects, the demands, the career path almost at its next step you aren’t even a little bit stressed?”
He let out a large exhale, “OK. So sometimes I do feel a bit tense. But I’m a lawyer in the City, for God’s sake. What do you expect?”
Benedict hated the smug look on Eloise’s face.
“Question two,” she read out. “On average, how many hours do you spend in the office every day?”
14
But Benedict knew that wouldn’t go over well.
What about 12?
No, that was still too many.
8 was a good answer.
Except Eloise wouldn’t believe it.
“It depends,” he settled on.
She scowled, “Do you exercise regularly?”
“Do you think a man looks this good without hitting the gym? Benedict grinned. “See, I told you I did things outside of work.”
For some reason, Eloise didn’t congratulate him for this accomplishment.
“Do you drink 8 glasses of water a day?” Eloise read off.
“Yes,” he answered automatically.
Eloise raised an eyebrow.
“Sometimes,” he amended.
Her eyebrow raise further.
Benedict hung his head, “No.”
“Do you smoke?”
“Yes. But so do you.”
“Do you drink alcohol?”
“Yes. The odd glass of wine or beer. Champagne at special events.”
Of course with a family as big as theirs and a law firm as swanky as his there was always a special event.
“Do you eat regular home-cooked meals?” Eloise asked.
Benedict frowned. What did that have to do with anything? What made “home-cooked” meals superior?
“I eat a nutritious, varied diet,” Benedict said.
“Your Angus burger,” the waitress appeared from nowhere to place their lunches in front of them. “Double bacon, double cheese, no lettuce, tomato, pickles, or onions. Double order of fries.”
Eloise give a pointed look as her lunch of a club sandwich and minestrone soup was placed before her., “A nutritious varied diet, huh?”
“It is absolutely true,” Benedict insisted, squirting a river of ketchup on his fries. “Swear it on Father’s grave.”
Anyway, everyone knows the Chinese live longer than we do—so what could be more healthy than to eat their food? And pizza is Mediterranean. It’s probably more healthy than a home-cooked meal.
Eloise read the final question, “Do you feel your life is balanced?”
“Yes.”
No, said a small voice inside of him.
“Yes,” Benedict repeated firmly.
“Benedict,” Eloise warned. “I’m worried about you.”
“Why?” Benedict shot at her. “What possibly could indicate that I cannot handle myself the way things are.”
Her phone rang and Benedict jammed his hand in his pocket for his own phone.
“Oh yeah, that’s the actions of a man who is chill.”
Benedict glared, “You said that you wanted to take me to a nice lunch for my birthday and talk. If you’re just to go sit here and insult me, I don’t have to take this.”
“No, wait, Ben, listen!”
He folded her hands and waited patiently for her to speak. For a minute, she said nothing, just idly stirred her soup, trying to collect the right words.
Her spoon was traveling at a snail’s pace. Like they had got all the time in the world.
Which she may well have, but Benedict seriously had to be back in the office by one. And glancing at the clock, they weren’t afford much time.
Eloise looked up, a thoughtful expression on her face. “You’re obviously quite a stressed-out man.”
What? Where did she get that from? He specifically said answered that he was not stressed-out.
“No, I’m not.” Benedict hoped Eloise was taking in his relaxed, see-how-unstressed-I-am smile.
She looked unconvinced.
“Your job is obviously very pressured.”
“I thrive under pressure,” Benedict explained. Which was true. He’d known that about himself ever since …
Well. Ever since Anthony told him, when he was about eight. You thrive under pressure, Benedict. Our whole family thrives under pressure. It’s like our family motto or something.
Apart from my sister, Francesca, of course. She had a nervous breakdown and ran off to Scotland.
But the rest of us.
“I love my job,” Benedict said proudly. “I love spotting the loophole in a contract. I love the thrill of negotiation, and arguing my case, and making the sharpest point in the room. I love the adrenaline rush of closing a deal.”
He did suppose just occasionally he did feel as though someone’s piling heavy weights on him. Like big concrete blocks, one on top of the other, and he had to keep holding them up, no matter how exhausted he was …
But then everyone probably feels like that. It’s normal.
“Your skin’s very dehydrated.” Eloise shook her head. She reached across the table and ran an expert hand across her brother’s cheek. She rested her fingers underneath Benedict’s jaw, looking concerned. “Your heart rate’s very high. That’s not healthy. Are you feeling particularly tense?”
You mean besides the fact his cell phone was at the office and he was missing all those potential calls and emails?
“Work’s pretty busy at the moment.” I shrug. “It’s just a blip. I’m fine.”
Eloise withdrew her hand, a frown etched into her face, taking in the heavy bags under his eyes, the paleness of his skin, and the way his hair was mussed at the temples from constantly rubbing them.
But as she opened her mouth to speak again, her phone rang again, and if possible even louder. She looked down at her phone to see KATE splayed across the caller ID.
“Hi Kate,” Eloise picked up the phone. “What’s up?”
“Are you done with Benedict’s birthday lunch yet?” Kate demanded. “We need him back down at the office right away. The Goring deal is this close to falling through and we need him here to help deal with it.”
“Can’t it wait until after lunch?” Eloise asked as she watched Benedict shovel down his fries, no doubt guessing the contents of the call.
“Eloise, this emergency is the equivalent to the building being on fire.”
“He’s not a firefighter,” Eloise rolled his eyes.
“El,” Kate said in her I am totally calm and not five seconds from snapping, reaching through the phone and throttling you tone of voice, “right now Benedict is at a very crucial stage of his career. They are literally making the decision tomorrow whether or not to promote him to Partner. Benedict needs to make the firm his top priority right now.”
Fed up with Eloise’s bartering, Benedict snapped up the phone from Eloise’s hand.
“Benedict!”
“Hey Kate, it’s Ben. I’ll be there ASAP.” Benedict struggled to hold the phone out of Eloise’s grip as she made swipes to reclaim her property.
“Just hurry,” Kate urged, oblivious to the Three Stooges routine unfolding on the other end of the line. “Danbury’s out for blood.”
He thanked her and hung up the phone. Eloise glared at him and folded her arms, so he slid the phone back to her across the table.
“I’m still mad at you,” Eloise warned.
“I know but you’ll get over it,” he grinned. “See you at dinner tonight?”
“Fine. But I’m bringing Phillip.”
“Fine.”
Benedict signalled the waitress over to ask for the cheque and a to go box. There was a slight disagreement between brother and sister over who would pay the cheque, but eventually Benedict conceded to Eloise.
Food packed up, Benedict was getting up to go to the washroom when Eloise caught his arm.
“Just… do me a favour okay? Take a look in the mirror? An honest, long look at how you think and feel.”
He gave an honest smile, patted her on the arm, and left for the washroom.
When he was done and at the sink to wash his hand, he looked up and stared at his face in the mirror.
An honest, long look in the mirror at how he really thought and felt.
Eloise was right, he looked awful.
Benedict blew out a breath. This wasn’t where he wanted his life to go. When he was young, he always imagined himself an artist. And he was a good one, or so he thought.
Then he found out that Anthony had bought his place at art school and Benedict knew he was a fraud. What good artist needed to buy their way in? No, he had done the noble thing, put his paintbrushes away, quit art school, and got his law degree like every other Bridgerton.
It was for the best, this is what he was good at. What he was meant for.
…Then why did he feel so empty?