by Mary Strand
Know her? Like a sister!
I put a finger to my lips—which made Patrick look at my lips, which wasn’t what I’d planned. Not that I minded. “Don’t worry. I won’t say a word.”
“Especially to Alex. He’d kill me.”
“He’d probably kill me.”
“You’re too cute. I don’t think he kills the cute ones.”
I started to answer, but we were veering into flirtation territory, and I couldn’t figure Patrick out. Just flirting, or was he actually headed somewhere?
He cleared his throat, jerking me back to reality. “Alex said he saved Charlie from...a situation, and it didn’t surprise me. I mean, Charlie seems a bit young.”
“The same age as Alex.” And three years older than me. No wonder Patrick was just flirting.
Patrick nodded. “Point taken. But Alex came from money, and Charlie never had any until he made a mint on those crazy computer games of his. It seemed to flush out more than a few crazed women. At least one stalker, I know, which is why they left New York for a while. I doubt Charlie or Alex had to hang out in Minnesota so long just to do a deal.”
Maybe Charlie had stayed to hang out with Jane, but I didn’t say it. “Did Alex say the ‘situation’ was in Minnesota? Or is Charlie dealing with more than one woman?”
Patrick held up a hand in surrender. “That’s not a question I’d willingly answer without at least five drinks, especially if a woman is asking it.”
I snorted even as I wondered just how many women Charlie had been dealing with. Poor Jane. “I wasn’t planning to shoot you. Well, probably not.”
“Imagine my relief.”
“Hey, I’m no stalker.” I mean, I wouldn’t mind going out with Patrick, but I wouldn’t stalk him. And Jane wouldn’t stalk Charlie. She didn’t have to. “It sounds like Alex just thinks he has the right to babysit Charlie.”
Patrick shrugged. “He does tend to be protective, whether you want him to or not.”
“My hero.” I seethed inside, even though Jane says I’m overprotective, too. But she needed my help, and Dad demanded it. I kept walking, trying Zen breathing to calm down, but I hyperventilated. “Alex can be such a know-it-all.”
“True fact. But don’t you ever interfere with your friends’ love lives?” Patrick shrugged. “I’ve done it. You know, told a friend what I thought about whoever he was dating.”
I sighed. “I’ve done the same thing.”
He was right, at least in theory, but this was different. It involved Jane.
“But you still think Alex is a jerk.”
“Did I say that?”
“The scowl on your face suggests it.” Patrick touched the bottom of my chin, the faintest whisper of a touch. “Sorry. My fault for bringing it up. You and Alex fight like you’ve known each other forever, and I should resist provoking another fight until Alex is actually in the room.”
“Good idea. Maybe bring boxing gloves?”
“Brilliant.”
We’d now gone several blocks astray, and we were circling back. By unspoken agreement, we quit talking about Alex. Why bother? Alex was Alex, and I still liked Patrick. Even if he had the bad luck to be related to Alex.
So we chatted and laughed and, before I knew it, we were back at Mrs. Parks’s house. I still couldn’t believe Alex thought Jane could possibly be a stalker. As if! Charlie had slept with her. My head spun, and the whole thing gave me a headache.
But it wasn’t Patrick’s fault. As he escorted me inside, I hoped I’d get a chance to see him again—without Alex or Mrs. Parks around—before we both left Fargo tomorrow.
After I climbed the stairs to my room, my headache got worse. Or so I claimed to Rachel, who saw me pressing my fingers to my temples when I wished I was wrapping them around Alex’s stupid, interfering neck. Between not having anything clean except a Pink Floyd T-shirt and not wanting to see Alex again before I died, I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing anyone for dinner. Except possibly Rachel.
Maybe I’d catch Patrick on one last walk tomorrow before I left. Or we could exchange email addresses. But I definitely didn’t need Alex’s.
Rachel totally understood my wanting to skip dinner even without knowing what Alex had done to Jane. I bet she wished she didn’t have to go, either.
Alone at last. I grabbed Pride and Prejudice, which I’d been surreptitiously reading this morning when I should’ve been studying for physics, tucked a couple of pillows under my head, and stretched out on the bed. My headache cleared instantly.
Unfortunately, that lasted only until I heard footsteps headed up the stairs. They weren’t loud or thumping, and I didn’t hear any heavy breathing, so I ruled out Wild Bill. Could it be Patrick? Coming upstairs to turn on the charm? Or wanting to sneak a kiss without Mrs. Parks spying on us?
Not with my luck.
Alex appeared in the doorway, looking just like he had this morning in Mrs. Parks’s office. Annoying.
I looked up from my book, staring at him, when suddenly I realized I was lying down on my bed with Alex standing there. Yikes! I shot to a sitting position, swung my legs over the side of the bed, and sprang to my feet. After tossing The Book on the floor and kicking it under the bed, I walked over to where he stood but tried not to get too close. He smelled too good.
But I didn’t say anything to him. The toad.
“I heard you weren’t feeling well. Are you better now?”
I looked at my watch. “Rachel left five minutes ago. Sorry. No miracle cure.”
“Oh.”
I bit my lip. Even with Alex, I had a hard time being rude to someone’s face. But he was bugging the hell out of me just by inhabiting the same planet as me.
Alex spoke again. “Can I come in?”
I glanced down at myself. Pink Floyd T-shirt, sweatpants, and socks with a hole in one toe. I also knew Mrs. Parks kept a shotgun in the front-hall closet just for dealing with guys and girls who hung out together in bedrooms in her house, even though Wild Bill seemed to take chances. At the moment, I felt like using the shotgun on Alex.
“I, uh, don’t want to.”
“You don’t want to do what?” He smiled, looking tentative. “I won’t bite.”
“No, but I might.”
His grin faltered as he jammed his hands in his pockets. Finally, he looked at me again. His eyes smoldered, a word I’d read without really believing the concept existed until I saw his chocolatey-brown eyes, well, smoldering.
Either that, or he just needed some eyedrops.
“Did you want something?”
He blinked. “Yeah. I mean, I’m sorry you can’t make it to dinner.”
“You saw me today. Walking. For quite a while.” It would’ve been a much shorter walk if I’d gone up to one of the few remaining snowbanks and shoved him into it.
“Yeah.”
I tapped my toe on the floor. “And?”
He shook his head. “Sorry. I know this is a bit wacked, but I wanted to ask you out. Go out with you.”
My jaw dropped. “You what?”
“I mean, you live in Minnesota and I live in Connecticut, and there’s the whole thing with Jane, but— Hell. Liz, I just want to go out with you. I like you. Despite everything. I think you’re, uh—” His gaze shot to his feet, and I noticed they were bare. “—gorgeous.”
As I stared at his feet and tried to absorb what he was saying, my head suddenly snapped back. Gorgeous?
Despite everything?
The black-haired toad I’d first met was croaking again. I caught his eye just as he started to lean forward with what looked like an incoming kiss.
Kiss Alex Darcy? Go out with Alex Darcy?
“You...toad! Despite everything? Even though I’m not some stuck-up New Yorker and you think my sister Jane is a stalker? Charlie is an asshole!”
He looked stunned. Of course, he’d probably never asked someone out and been turned down. Not that I’d actually turned him down yet. I felt more like skewering him with
a fireplace poker, but one wasn’t handy.
He frowned, glanced at my bed, then must’ve realized what he was doing. He whipped his gaze back to me. “It’s not like I’m asking to marry you or anything.”
I crossed my arms. “Thank God for small favors.”
He just kept standing there. Waiting.
I balled my fists at my sides. “Maybe some other girl would’ve said yes. I mean, you’re Alex Darcy. But if I ever flirted with you, I never meant to, and I definitely wasn’t making a play for you. Not in a million years.”
His face went white. He looked pissed—and maybe, for the first time in his life, more than a little embarrassed. “I just wanted to go to a movie or something.”
He totally didn’t get it—what a guy—but did I really have to spell it out?
I waved my hand in the air. “Do you really think I’d go out with a guy who screws with my sister’s life? As if!” I took a deep breath and kept going. “Charlie and Jane were barely even dating. They were having fun. They liked each other. What’s it to you?”
He shrugged. “I admit I got Charlie to stay in New York. I should’ve stayed in New York this week myself.”
I nearly spit at him. “Yeah, well, you were a jerk to Justin, too. At Charlie’s party.”
He turned bright red. “I was a jerk?”
I felt my own face glow. “That’s what I hear.”
“You don’t know a thing about it.” He slashed a hand through the air. “Unbelievable. I’m so glad I asked you out.”
I watched in silence as he took a step backward. Then I slammed the door shut on his face.
I leaned against the door, stunned. Alex Darcy wanted to go out with me. But he was a total jerk, and he didn’t have a clue.
Good riddance.
Chapter 15
“Be not alarmed, madam, on receiving this letter by the apprehension of its containing any repetition of those sentiments, or renewal of those offers, which were last night so disgusting to you.”
— Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Volume II, Chapter Twelve
I woke up early Easter morning feeling a lot like how Jesus must’ve felt in the tomb. Dead and closed in.
I’d run the whole Alex thing over in my mind a zillion times and still couldn’t believe it. Alex Darcy asked me out.
Alex Darcy asked me out.
And I’d stomped all over him and slammed the door in his face. It felt so good at the time, but this morning I just felt...cold. And sad, and a little bit lonely.
Possibly also stupid.
Not that Alex wasn’t a total jerk, at least with Jane and maybe with Justin, although I wasn’t so sure now about Justin. But I wondered if I should’ve handled things differently with Alex. A tad more maturely. I slapped myself. Duh. Alex was so stuck on himself, so sure he was right about everything. I definitely gave him the right answer.
I hoped.
I lay in bed, crushing my pillow to my chest. Even before Alex got Charlie to dump Jane, I’d practically hated Alex. I’d been so bugged about the possibility that The Book—or Jane Austen—could wreck my life that I actually tried to tell Jane what to do and treated Alex like he reeked.
Meanwhile, I’d flirted and worse with Justin, then flirted with Patrick. Justin hung from a trapeze for a living and, from what I saw in Patrick’s haunted eyes, he killed people. In Afghanistan, halfway across the world.
Alex had sort of a regular job, and he was good at it, and he and his dad lived the good life in Connecticut. Sure, he was three years older than me—not much—and past the days of worrying about pop quizzes in physics, but he was cute and hot and, well, intriguing.
So what was I afraid of?
Was I afraid that, if I didn’t spend all my time hating him, I might actually start to like Alex?
Groaning, I finally crawled out of bed. I’d stayed up way too late last night reading Pride and Prejudice, totally unable to stop when I got to the point where Elizabeth turned down Mr. Darcy when he asked her to marry him. If The Book had any hope of playing out in my life, Alex would catch me today and hand me a letter. Too funny!
Or, well, not.
After stumbling around in my flannel Scooby-Doo pj’s for a few minutes, wondering what to do, I threw on sweats and a jacket, laced up my running shoes, and slipped out the front door for a walk to clear my head. No one was up yet, and I made my escape unnoticed.
After a few brisk stretches, I headed toward the park at a faster clip than usual, just short of running. Today, I didn’t even want to run into Patrick and I definitely didn’t want to see Alex. I just wanted to be alone.
At seven in the morning on a cold March day in Fargo, that shouldn’t be too much to ask.
To be safe, I skipped the park and wandered the streets of Fargo, which weren’t too interesting but more likely to be devoid of brown-eyed toads. I worked off most of my lousy mood in the first half hour, then put in another half hour for good measure. Time to get back. My stomach was rumbling and I’d accomplished what I set out to do. I felt a bit better.
That lasted only until I took the road home, which cut along the south end of the park.
Alex stood at the entrance to the park. At eight in the morning, looking frozen and totally disheveled, as if he’d been there all night. Crap! I almost veered down a side street, but he’d already spotted me. So I slowly drew closer, each step both an eternity and a blur as our gazes caught and held. He had dark shadows under his eyes and even darker shadows on his stubbled chin.
He shivered and offered a tentative smile. “Liz. I—I’ve been walking in the park, hoping I’d catch you.”
I frowned. “Here? Now?”
Icicles were practically forming on the end of his nose, and his teeth chattered. “I looked in your room, but you were already gone.”
“Lucky thing.” I tried not to grin, but sometimes Alex was so serious I had to laugh. It was better than getting nervous around the guy. “If I’d been there, Mrs. Parks might’ve gone after both of us with the shotgun.”
I caught a glimpse of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. “Thank God you were gone, then.”
A joke? From Alex? Rattled, I crossed my arms and waited for him to start. But he didn’t.
He also didn’t have a letter in his hands. Of course, his hands were in his pockets, probably to avoid frostbite, and he might have a letter tucked in a pocket of his jeans or jacket, but I didn’t think so. He would’ve handed it to me the moment I showed up. Alex is pretty direct that way.
I glanced around, looking for a place to sit. We couldn’t talk at Mrs. Parks’s house, where everyone would listen in. Besides, if Mrs. Parks saw us together this early in the morning, she’d figure we slept together—ha!—and shoot us.
Finally, I plopped down on the frozen ground, cross-legged, and looked up at Alex.
Being Alex, he kept standing. “Liz—”
And then he broke off again.
I held up a hand. “You’re going to need to speed this up. I can already feel the ice on my butt.”
Alex stared at me, not commenting on my butt. “You said a couple of things last night, and I was too pissed to explain.”
“No need to. You asked me out. I said no.” I started to pry myself off the ground, intent on getting out of there. “We don’t need to rehash it.”
Alex held up a hand. “I need to explain about Charlie. It’s just that ever since his company took off, a lot of girls have hit on him, trying to hook up with a rich guy.”
Right. Like a guy wouldn’t love it. “Poor baby.”
Alex blew out a harsh breath. “That’s not what I meant. Charlie and I came out to Minnesota to work on a deal, but it wasn’t the whole reason. He’d just gotten a restraining order against a young woman who’d been stalking him—showing up at the company, outside his condo in New York, even making it up to his floor after bribing the doorman.”
“So? We’re not talking about Jane.”
He stuffed his hands in his pocket
s. “Jane didn’t seem like the type, I admit. For about two minutes. Pretty soon, though, she kept showing up wherever Charlie was. The condo building, the grocery store, the gas station, you name it.”
She had gone missing a lot when Charlie first appeared, but maybe with help from Charlie. I mean, how else would Jane know when Charlie was at the grocery store or gas station? And she could’ve been visiting Rachel.
Okay, that last one was doubtful. But still.
I shook my head. “Have you ever looked at Jane? She doesn’t need to hit on guys. They hit on her.” Charlie had even slept with her. Had that been Jane’s fault, too?
Alex shrugged. “She was all over him in New York, too. She’s cute, but a lot of cute girls go after Charlie.”
“I don’t think you know Charlie too well. When Jane saw him in New York, he—” I clapped my hand over my mouth. I mean, Alex had to know that Charlie and Jane had hooked up, so it shouldn’t be a secret. But he was so clueless about Jane being a stalker, maybe Charlie didn’t tell him everything.
Alex held up a hand. “I know, I know. I told him not to, but apparently Jane can be pretty persuasive.”
“You...jerk!” I scrambled to my feet, then aimed a kick at Alex’s shin.
He caught my foot in his hands and, before I could scream, my butt landed back on the ground. Alex laughed, shattering the early-morning quiet, even as he tried to help me stand up. “Sorry, but you’re not exactly easy to have a long talk with. And I didn’t say this was a great story.”
I rubbed my butt. “We’re sure not talking Pulitzer.”
One eyebrow lifted. Yep, definitely Alex. “When we got back to New York, I cornered Charlie and pointed out the obvious. I thought he was starting to fall for Jane—”
“Which is exactly my point!”
Alex held up his hands. “I did what I had to do.”
That was it. He didn’t apologize, let alone call himself an asshole. And by the look on his face, he still thought he’d done a Good Thing.
