Persuading Him: A Modern Persuasion Retelling (Pemberley Estates Book 1)

by Keena Richins

  She wanted to scream out his name as if it could somehow materialize him out of thin air. Unfortunately, Will showed up instead. She wanted to smack him. It was entirely his fault. But hitting people in public places was not something she had a habit of doing.

  "Won't you come back?" Will asked, no hint of steel in his tone time, but that cold flash burned in his eyes. "Your father will be concerned." He held out his hand.

  She gave him a stiff smile but ignored his offered hand and stalked inside by herself. Will followed and tried to initiate a conversation, but thankfully, the symphony began the moment they sat down and she could be alone with her thoughts.

  She reviewed those last moments with Rick. His warm eyes and smile as he neared her. He wouldn't do that if he was indifferent, right? Something must have happened, something that reminded him that she wasn't a horrible person that had ruthlessly broken his heart. But why the anger when Will appeared?

  Wait, could Rick be jealous?

  The thought made her tingle all over. If Rick was jealous, then that proved he still liked her! That Louisa hadn't completely taken over her place! Oh, she could shout for joy! Leap onto the stage and take over the piano and play a song that would make the entire house sing with elation.

  Then a horrifying thought dawned on her. What if Rick assumed she liked Will? He had seen her walk with Will, sit by him without a fuss, and even had him chase after her when she tried to follow Rick. That could look like she and Will were dating. And Rick had already had his heart broken by her—he wouldn't be stupid enough to try again if he thought her heart was already taken by another.

  She suddenly couldn't stand the sight of Will and wished she could change seats. Not even the beautiful piano solo could salvage the evening and the only thing she could think about was that, from now on, she had to make it obvious that she had absolutely no interest in Will.

  Chapter 26

  She managed to evade all of Will's attempts for another date, a fact that seemed to amuse him instead of deter him. It was like he assumed she was playing hard to get instead of realizing she loathed him. Anne had no idea what to do with him. All the other men had given up after she avoided them long enough, but Will seemed only more determined.

  To avoid Will, she avoided being at home and went apartment shopping, hoping to find a suitable place that would work within her limited budget. Alas, she came back fruitless each time.

  She also made time to visit Louisa—and secretly hoped to causally get Rick's number from Charles. Unfortunately, Charles was no longer there. The bed in the rented apartment had not been up to Mary's standards. Neither did she enjoy the long, unfruitful days in the hospital or keeping her kids occupied in a tiny apartment. So Charles had taken his family home.

  Anne sighed. She'd have to bite her pride and call Charles up. But, no harm in procrastinating a bit longer, right? Rick might show up at the hospital, saving her the embarrassment of dealing with Charles' teasing.

  However, when the third day rolled by with no sign of Rick, Anne sat before her laptop and stared at a blank email message, hoping courage would rise and she'd write an amazing letter. But what type of an email should she write? Should she apologize for her actions eight years ago? Or would he resent that she hadn't done that already? Maybe she should invite him to an activity? Except she didn't really do anything exciting. Her hobbies consisted of playing the piano, organizing things, and calming people. Rick had always been the one with the great ideas for activities and she had been the happy follower. Perhaps she could ask him about his day? But that might seem random.

  Anne sighed, defeated. She had no idea what she was doing. She didn't even know if his old email address still worked. She might spend hours crafting the perfect email...only to have it land in someone else's inbox. Or languish forever in some dark mysterious corner of the internet.

  With a grimace, she snapped the laptop shut. This was stupid. Email had never worked before, anyway. She should stop dawdling and call Charles.

  But what if she made all the effort to get his number and called him, only to find out that she had misread everything? Or that he might have forgiven her, but his interest was now with Louisa, not her.

  But then, what if he did like Anne, but needed some encouragement? And if she remained cautious and did nothing, she might lose her chance with him forever?

  Her phone pinged and Anne jerked in shock. Were the fates finally working in her favor? Snatching her phone, she checked the notification, only to sigh with disappointment. It was Russelle. She was in Boston again and would like to take her out to lunch. Since Anne had nothing to do but make that call to Charles, she reasoned a few hours delay wouldn't make anything worse and accepted Russelle's invite.

  An hour later found Anne sitting in a nice restaurant across from her dear friend.

  "Your father was telling me of the symphony you had all gone with the senator," Russelle was saying in between bites of food.

  Anne tried to remember anything distinctive about the symphony, but she couldn't even remember the piano part. Her thoughts had been distracted entirely by Rick's departure. "It was good," Anne decided to say. "You should go see it."

  Russelle smiled as if she had a hunch Anne had been severely distracted. Anne flushed. Her father must have mentioned Rick had also come. That meant Russelle knew he no longer cared about her.

  "He also mentioned," Russelle began and Anne sank into her chair, waiting for the inevitable, "that you sat with Will the entire time."

  Anne struggled to keep a sour expression from descending over her face. "He is a good conversationalist."

  Russelle raised an eyebrow. "That's all you're going to say?"

  "Isn't that a good compliment?" Anne kept her eyes on her plate and dug into the food.

  "I also heard that someone might have ruined your evening."

  Anne froze. So, her father had mentioned Rick. She glanced at Russelle, but the woman calmly ate, eyes on her plate.

  Anne put down her utensils. Time to get this over with. "You mean Rick."

  Russelle started, apparently not expecting Anne to mention him by name. She met Anne's eyes with worried ones. "So you did meet him. How...was it?"

  She poked at her food. "I actually had met him earlier, when I was babysitting Mary's children."

  Russelle straightened in shock. "You did? Why didn't you tell me?"

  Anne ducked her head. "I was afraid of what you'd think."

  "Oh, Anne, you shouldn't ever worry about what I'd think. I only want the best for you and, well, I know how much you've struggled to get over him. It must have been a horrible time, seeing him after all these years. But, I'm glad you met him."

  She looked up. "You are?"

  "Yes. Now you can see that there was nothing there for you to hold on to for so long."

  Anne sighed. This was exactly why she didn't want to mention Rick to Russelle. And her godmother would probably refute all of Anne's assumptions that he still liked her, that he might even be jealous of Will, and make her despair he would ever forgive her.

  Not wanting to continue the depressing topic, she switched to Louisa. Russelle gladly joined the new topic, probably assuming Anne would never speak of Rick again. But she was dead wrong, for less than two hours later, she was spilling everything.

  "I'm sorry, Livvy," Anne said as she sat in her friend's little apartment, "for unloading all that on you. I know you have no idea who half of the people are involved are, but I had to tell someone. It's been eating me up inside and you've always been a good friend to me."

  Livvy just beamed, something she'd been doing the whole time, obviously enjoying every salacious piece, one of the reasons Anne hadn't clammed up and had let the dam give way entirely.

  "Well, don't stop there! Have you been able to see him at all since the symphony?"

  Anne sighed. "No. Should I try calling him? I'd have to call my brother-in-law Charles for it..."

  Livvy laughed. "Yeah, that could be awkward. 'Hi!"
She said in a squeaky voice, "I'd like the number for your potential boss since he's my old boyfriend I dumped years ago. Oh, and I hope you don't mind me stealing him away from your sister while she's in a coma."

  Anne laughed herself. "Now you see why it's so hard to make the call."

  Her friend leaned back. "Well, if he was my type, I'd wait for him to do something. But, in your case, he failed to do squat in eight years, so that's a bad idea. Looks like you're going to have to call your brother-in-law. But first," she leaned forward, "Just to make sure, you have no interest in your quasi-cousin, the ever-so-handsome," the steeliness was back in her voice," William Elliot, right? From the rumors I hear, he's really into you and that's not something he does a lot."

  Anne blinked. "Rumors? You've heard rumors about me and him? From whom?"

  Her friend paused, then blushed. "It's a long story."

  "Well, you just listened to my sob story of being in love with one man for eight years—"

  "And I'm so glad you are!"

  Anne stared at her and she laughed. "I meant, I'm glad you're in love with someone else. If it weren't for your Rick fellow, you might have fallen for that vile Will Elliot."

  "Vile?"

  Her friend took a deep breath, the happy gaze dissolving into a deep bitterness settled. "He is the vilest, cruelest person I have ever or will ever know. He has no morals, no feeling, no soul!"

  Anne stared at her. She had never heard Livvy speak so viciously of anyone before. Her friend had always taken pains to speak of everyone in a good light.

  A smile cracked her friend's bitterness. "Sorry, been needing to get that off my chest."

  "But, why? How do you know him?"

  She rubbed her forehead. "Remember how I said my husband died last year?"

  Anne covered her mouth. "Don't tell me he was a part of that."

  Livvy picked at the rug on the couch. "He was. My dear Bart; he had such a good soul. He had no idea what a horrible friend he had. And Will ruined him. Made him commit suicide."

  Anne gasped. "But how? Not that I'm doubting your claim—"

  "Oh, I know I have no proof. Will is too good and makes sure no trail of proof leads to him. He redirects them to others and walks away in glee when they take the blame and fall. I know this because he did it to my husband. The two of them were friends before I ever met Bart, but they seemed to be the best of friends. Inseparable, sometimes. I'll admit, I was even jealous of their seemingly close bond. Once we moved out west, he and Will decided to start a law firm together. Bart's parents, just as trusting as him, provided the money and everything seemed to be working out great. But, after a few years of bliss, the FBI showed up out of the blue and shut us down, claiming my husband had been doing a lot of illegal stuff. We fought for years to clear his name, draining all of our assets in the process, including his parents, but to no avail. Will seemed to help by being our lawyer and providing funds when he could, which was always a pitiful amount, but we ultimately lost the case and my husband, my dear husband..." she covered her face.

  Anne clasped her knee, wishing she could offer more comfort than that.

  Her friend smiled faintly. "Thanks. Well, my husband committed suicide instead of going to jail. It was traumatic both for me and his parents, but Will? He didn't seem to care. And then he disappeared, leaving us with no money to even bury him. We had to raise money for that. And his parents ended up blaming me. The feds insisted a lot of money had been channeled somewhere and his family was sure I had it. But I never saw any of that money. Will has it. I swear, he has it."

  "Have you ever asked Will about it?"

  "Ask him?" her friend scoffed. "I started doing some digging when Will disappeared. Turns out, Will has a lot of friends who suddenly get taken out by the feds. So either he has terrible choice in friends or—"

  "He's been pinning the blame on them."

  "Exactly. And, I'm afraid he's setting up a new sucker for his latest scheme."

  "Oh, no, do you know who it is?"

  "I think it's your dad."

  Anne gasped. "My dad?"

  "Yeah. You mentioned your dad used to work with his father, right? That reminded me of times when Will would spout off about how he hated the man who ruined his father and that one day, he would make him pay. And now I find he's suddenly the best of friends with your father? That means ruin. He's up to something, something bad, and he's setting everything up so your father will take the blame instead of him. I swear, it's going to happen that way. I just know it."

  "But, how do we stop it?"

  "Well, I have a small network of spies at the moment."

  "What, spies?"

  Her friend laughed. "It's not anywhere near as glamorous as it sounds. Basically, I've contacted the friends Will has burned over the years, trying to find proof that we could finally nail on him. So far, we've got nothing. But one of my networks alerted me that Will had recently moved to Boston—"

  "Is that why you moved here?"

  "Yep. And why I have a dead-end job and a crummy apartment. I want to keep a low profile, run in circles he would never bother associating with. It also gives me time to try to follow him, but," she sighed. "I'm afraid I don't make a great spy."

  Anne had to laugh. "Neither do I. Remember how I was going to try to find out about Penny and Will on my date with him?"

  "Yes, I was hoping you'd tell me about it. Did you not find anything?"

  "No, I couldn't get Will to spill anything. But, I did see Penny and Will exchange a look. I'm certain the two have a history together."

  "Maybe he's burned her before?"

  "But Penny doesn't have a lot of money. She lives off hand-outs and hand-me-downs from my sister. Why would he go after her?"

  "I don't know. What does she look like?

  "Blonde, thin, quiet, usually well dressed—"

  Her friend gasped. "I know her! I saw him with her!"

  "You have?"

  "Yes, it's why I know he's very interested in you."

  "What?"

  "They were arguing about you. Penny wanted him to leave you alone, but he said his interest in you was legit."

  Anne recoiled. That was worse than him faking to like her. "He really said that?"

  "Yes. And that it's not part of the plan. That's why I know something is going on and it must have to do with your father."

  Anne paused, a memory stirring. "You know, Penny told me to get away."

  "She did?"

  "Well, not exactly. She told me to go back to my sister's house. I had assumed she was worried Will would break my heart, but maybe she's involved with whatever Will is doing..." Anne trailed off, remembering Penny's triumph smile when she had taken that manila envelope months ago. Were the two related? But, how would that lost envelope help Will with harming her father? It was about a case of the Pemberley Estates Corporation, not of her father or Will.

  "I think you should take her advice and get out of town. I don't want you getting trapped with whatever Will is planning, either. He may act charming, but he's an evil man underneath."

  Anne shook her head. "If Will is trying to hurt my father, I need to do something about it. Any recommendations?"

  "Make sure your father no longer interacts with him."

  "That's harder than you think. My father isn't one that normally takes my advice. And Will has him and my sister around his finger. There's no way they'd listen to me without proof."

  "I know, I'm sorry, I wish I had the proof. Even after all these years, I have nothing that will hold in court. He's too good at what he does. But he has to make a mistake at some point. That's what keeps me going. That and having you back in my life," she said, giving Anne's hand a squeeze.

  "Well, I may loathe Will, but I am glad he brought you back to Boston." Anne's phone abruptly pinged. "Sorry, let me just check—"

  "And see if it's him?"

  "I wish." Anne looked at her phone and gasped.

  "Wow, is it really him?" Her friend exclaimed,
leaning forward.

  Anne shook her head, already rising to her feet. "It's Louisa, the one in the coma. She's woken up. Charles just texted me. I'm so sorry, but I have to go."

  "Go, go, don't worry about me. But let me know how it goes!"

  Chapter 27

  Anne rushed to the intensive care unit only to discover that Louisa had been moved to a regular room. Following the instructions from the nurse, she descended a floor and headed down a long hallway, watching the numbers on the room for the right one. But when she turned the corner, she no longer needed the numbers since Mary and Charles stood farther down, indicating her which room Louisa was in.

  "Anne!" Mary cried and rushed to give her a hug. "Can you believe it? She's awake!"

  "And she remembered us," Charles said. "Remembered the whole family when we were all here!"

  "So, no brain damage?" Anne asked.

  Charles cleared his throat. "Some. The doctors have done tests and we're waiting on those but we know she has amnesia of the day of the accident—"

  "She can't remember Lyme at all or that we even went!" Mary cut in, "Has no memory of the horses. But she still remembers how to boss everyone around, ordering us all out of the room."

  "Noise overwhelms her," Charles explained. "She gets easily upset." He shot a glance at his wife as if implying she was the same but Mary didn't notice.

  "So, is she all alone?" Anne asked. Poor Louisa, to not be able to stand her family anymore.

  "She's with James," Mary said. "Apparently she could hear him when he read his poems and found his voice soothing. Practically begged that he’d read them to her again. I say that's proof of brain damage right there."

  "Could I possibly see her?" Anne asked.

  "You could try," Mary said, "But she'd probably throw a fit. She only wants James and those dreadful poems of his."