Fall For You [The Jane Austen Academy Series #1]

by Cecelia Gray

  Lizzie heard a creak behind her.

  “That was taken three years ago.”

  She spun around, heart pounding.

  Dante stood a few feet away. His hair was still wet and his T-shirt clung to his stomach. “Sorry if I startled you. I …when you didn’t come back after ten minutes...”

  “I was just looking at some pictures—is this you?”

  Dante smiled and raised an eyebrow. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t say you were,” Lizzie said defensively.

  “You were in this room earlier. I saw you, remember? I don’t know why, but I’m sure you’re not just looking at pictures.”

  “Maybe I’m asking for drama,” she said bravely.

  He grinned, but crossed his arms, as if waiting for a real answer.

  He was savvier than she’d given him credit for, and she knew a lie wouldn’t work. Besides, so what if he knew the truth? Dante didn’t seem to care about Jasta one way or the other. “Mrs. Wright knows the new owners of the Academy, and I thought their pictures might be in this room.”

  Dante’s eye twitched, but otherwise his face remained impassive, giving no indication as to whether he’d tell Rick’s mom what she had been up to. Especially now that she knew they had history. As much as Lizzie believed in her cause, she didn’t want Mrs. Wright to think badly of her.

  “There must be fifty people in these pictures,” was all he said after a moment.

  “That’s part of journalism,” Lizzie said with a shrug. “Research.”

  Dante’s gaze swept the room, finally returning to the picture of him with Rick’s parents. He smirked a little at the picture as he picked it up. “We had convinced Georgiana, who had just stopped believing in Santa, that he was real, and that our parents told us he was fake to get us on the naughty list so they’d get the better gifts.”

  “She fell for that?” Lizzie asked, unable to hold back a smile.

  “Only for a couple of days, but enough time for her to be so scared of being on the naughty list that she did everything we asked—including giving up her dessert at dinner.”

  “Tsk, tsk,” Lizzie said.

  Silence ticked by for a few seconds and Lizzie felt her skin growing warm. She didn’t want to push him for information—but what did he intend to do about catching her snooping through Mrs. Wright’s stuff?

  Dante took a step toward her, then another.

  Lizzie’s fingers strummed against her thighs with nervous energy. What was he doing?

  He took another step, only a foot away from her, then another so they were nose to nose. He smelled good—like summer. Her heart was skittering in her chest, she swore it raced through her body. She automatically wet her lips, not sure what to expect, not sure what he wanted.

  Dante took another step and brushed past her.

  Lizzie felt the cold stun of disappointment, although she didn’t know why. What had she been expecting? What had she been thinking? That he was going to kiss her? Why would he do that when he didn’t even like her? Why would she even want him to kiss her?

  She angled her body toward him as he took a final step and reached the wall of photos behind her.

  “This is Mr. Hyung. He’s the talent manager for the local symphony orchestra. The woman next to him is Ms. Mortimer. She’s an artist—famous for those seashell paintings. Are you going to write this down?” Dante looked back at her.

  Lizzie came out of her trance with a jolt. She dug through her pockets for a pen, scribbling down what he’d just said. “Why are you helping me?”

  He turned to face her, meeting her questioning look with his direct gaze. Lizzie felt like every pore on her skin was electrified. “I want to help you.”

  “Okay,” Lizzie said, feeling warmer and warmer. “But why?”

  Dante dipped his head and rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. “I want to…be here. Right now.”

  “Oh.” But wasn’t Dante a judgmental jerk? Wasn’t he aloof and selfish? Didn’t Dante hate her?

  Lizzie was beginning to wonder if maybe those things weren’t true.

  * * *

  The warm, sunny day plunged into freezing temperatures at night. Lizzie could hear the brisk wind fighting at the windowpane, rattling away. She pulled the heavy damask blanket tighter around her and bent her head back over her notes.

  Her list of final suspects.

  After Dante had identified all the people in the pictures in the office, she had immediately set to researching them. Half didn’t have the financial resources to buy Jasta, which left her with twenty-eight names.

  She should have asked Dante the direct question. She should have asked, “Who do you think the new owners are?” But she hadn’t.

  Because until then, things had seemed conversational. Like they were just talking. Not like she was a reporter and he was her source.

  Besides, if she were going to ask him one question, she had so many others she wanted to ask. Like what kind of books he read. Whether he liked to eat ice cream in cups or cones. And what he’d meant when he said he wanted to be there…with her.

  He’d spent half an hour with her. Half an hour, during which she’d begun to wonder if she’d been wrong about him. As he went through the photos, he not only named the people, he had stories to go along with them. Stories that almost made him seem…warm…and nice.

  And then there had been that moment.

  When they’d reached the last photograph, and he’d turned to her and asked, “Anything else you want to know?”

  She’d looked up into his blue eyes, mesmerized, and all those questions about him popped back to mind. He’d stepped closer, leaning his arm against the bookshelf right by her head, so his fingers brushed into the strands of her hair, so her breath had caught up in a twisty feeling through her body. She’d felt hot and cold all at once, breathless and at the same time like she was gulping in too much air.

  If Georgiana hadn’t stumbled upon them to say dinner was getting cold, she didn’t know what nonsense she would have asked.

  She heard a knock at the door and tossed the list of names on the bedside table. “Come in.” Her pulse stuttered—what if it was him? Coming to her room? She ran her hands quickly through her hair and adjusted her shirt.

  But only Anne stuck her head in the door. “How did you turn on the heat?”

  Lizzie blinked—then took in the fact that Anne was wearing her pajama bottoms, what seemed like three layers of sweaters, and a velvet robe. “I didn’t…the room has just been like this.”

  “Oh—my room is freezing!”

  “More freezing than it is in here?” Lizzie kicked off her blanket and jumped off the massive bed to the floor. They went to Anne’s bedroom and as they approached, Lizzie felt icicles forming on her feet, it was so cold.

  “Why is it so cold in here?” Lizzie asked. “Come on, let’s get Rick.”

  “No!” Anne blurted.

  Lizzie raised her eyebrow. “You can’t freeze to death. The staff have all turned in and Dante, Edward, and Rick seemed like they’d be up for hours with that video game.”

  A video game to which they’d been invited, but Georgiana hadn’t wanted to play and Anne had begged off, and suddenly the idea of being in a room with him and Edward and Rick and suffering through all these confusing feelings was too much.

  “Could I just…maybe…sleep in your room?” Anne asked.

  “You’re being ridiculous. You stay here, then, and I’ll ask Rick how to turn on the heat.” Or was she just looking for an excuse to check in on Dante?

  “Please,” Anne said, her voice low. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Lizzie let out an exasperated sigh, but couldn’t help but take pity on Anne’s mournful face. “At least get your own pillows,” she said, returning to her room.

  She’d managed to climb back into bed and pull down the cover on the other side when Anne returned with her own pillow. “Thank you so much,” Anne said, climbing in next to her.


  “The bed’s so big we could fit half of Jasta in here, anyway,” Lizzie mumbled.

  “What’s that?” Anne asked, looking over at the piece of paper Lizzie set on the bedside table.

  “My list of suspects for the new Jasta owners.” Lizzie slid further under the covers and turned onto her side to face Anne, who was also turning to face her.

  “Mrs. Wright’s friends? How did you get all those names?”

  Lizzie almost said Dante’s name, but stopped herself. She didn’t know why. He hadn’t said it was a secret, but she felt like he was her secret somehow. Or maybe she just wanted to have something secret with him. “Journalists never reveal their sources,” she said instead.

  “Oh, right. Sorry, I’m still getting the hang of this journalism thing.”

  “It will come naturally once you get used to it. You start to smell a story—you know, like you and Rick. That’s a stink! What’s the deal there?”

  Anne squirmed.

  “’Fess up,” Lizzie demanded. “It’s the least you can do for crashing in my room just because you can’t ask him about a thermostat.”

  “We were in love,” Anne said. She blew out a deep breath, then said, more softly, “We were in love. Then…he left.”

  “To the Naval Academy,” Lizzie said. “Well, he’s back now. So what’s the problem?”

  “It’s more complicated than that.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’re just making it more complicated,” Lizzie said. “Trust me—tomorrow you need to put out a vibe that you’re available. Rick seems like the kind of guy to do the rest.”

  “You really think so?” Anne said. “This year has started out so bad—it would be great if one thing would work out.”

  “It has been pretty sucky, hasn’t it?” Lizzie said. “But you know, I think it’s finally starting to look up.” She thought of Dante, his secretive smile, his eyes, the way his wet shirt stuck to his abs. “For both of us.”

  Chapter Nine

  “Rack them up,” Edward said, holding his pool cue victoriously over his head. “I’m ready to claim another victim.”

  “Since this is my first time playing pool, beating me can hardly be considered victory,” Lizzie pointed out, handing her cue to Anne. “Besides, shouldn’t you give winning a rest? Let someone else play?” Lizzie looked pointedly at Rick, who was bent over a Battleship board with Dante.

  “I don’t mind teaching Edward a lesson.” Anne chalked up her cue.

  “No,” Lizzie said forcefully. “He’s already embarrassed Georgiana—”

  “Hey!” Georgiana said from the couch, where she was reading.

  “—and trounced me,” Lizzie said. “There’s such a thing as a graceful exit.”

  “All right, all right.” Edward set his cue on the table. “I want to get in a swim before lunch anyway.”

  “Me, too! But a real swim, not just cannonball practice.” Georgiana set down her book and patted her belly. “I’ve been eating out of control.”

  “Come on, Rick, let me have a go at Battleship,” Lizzie demanded.

  Lizzie didn’t miss Rick’s furtive glance at Anne. What was behind his expression? Desire? Anger? She couldn’t tell, but like a good host, he stood, pulled back his chair, and offered her the seat to Battleship across from Dante.

  As she sat, Dante smiled at her over the game’s board, and she felt a cannonball of her own in her stomach.

  “Do you really want to play Battleship?” Dante asked in a low voice, his eyes twinkling as he grinned.

  “Um, sure,” Lizzie said, studying the board.

  “Really?” Dante raised a skeptical eyebrow.

  Lizzie squirmed in her chair and glanced over at Rick, who was bent over the pool table, lining up a shot.

  “There’s nothing else you’d rather be doing?” Dante pressed.

  Lizzie blushed furiously, searching for an answer that didn’t involve him and a dark closet. “I wouldn’t mind whittling down my list of suspects for the new Jasta owners,” she said finally.

  Dante threw back his head with a laugh. “I should have known that’s what would be on your mind. Ever since joining Journalism, Georgiana has been the same way.”

  “Really?” Lizzie grinned with satisfaction. “Then she’s caught the bug, big time.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  “Nah, she had it already. Although…”

  “What?” Dante sat up in his chair. “What is it?”

  “You start to develop an instinct for a story. Sometimes when Georgiana’s reporting a story, I get the sense that the real story is with her.”

  Dante’s eyes iced over and Lizzie felt an actual chill run down her spine, but a moment later the look was gone. He blinked and smiled, and she wondered if she’d imagined it. “Let me help you with the rest of your list,” Dante said. “I probably know the people on it better than you do. I can help you get some insight into them.”

  “You would do that?” Lizzie pulled the crumpled page out of her back pocket.

  “Why are you always surprised when I offer to do something for you?”

  “I don’t know,” Lizzie admitted.

  Anne’s laugh resounded through the room. Lizzie looked up and felt something inside her soften as Anne and Rick looked tenderly at each other. They deserved some privacy.

  “Yeah,” Lizzie said, looking back at Dante. “Let’s head back to the office.”

  He followed her as she navigated the halls. Every now and then she turned back and he was right behind her with a secretive smile, his fingers trailing along the hall wainscoting.

  She stepped into the office and pulled the list out of her pocket.

  Dante reached to grab it.

  Instinctively, she twisted away.

  “Are you hiding something?” He grinned mischievously and lunged closer.

  She laughed, and held the list over her head although it was a futile gesture given how much taller he was. He stepped closer and belted her waist with his arm. She turned, squealing, but he pulled her against his chest, burying his nose in her neck.

  She forgot how to breathe.

  For a moment, it seemed they were frozen like that. His breath against her collarbone. Her spine against his chest.

  But then he pulled away and cleared his throat.

  “Why don’t you just read me the remaining names?” he said.

  * * *

  Lizzie found herself rushing back to the bedroom to change for lunch and looking around every corner for Anne. She couldn’t wait to hear every detail of her time with Rick. Had he asked her out? Had they kissed? They’d seemed a breath away from it in the pool room.

  She’d never felt more anxious, more jittery.

  She pulled off her T-shirt and put on a nice sweater. Rick’s mother was going to be joining them for lunch, so she wanted to look nicer. She checked her phone for any texts from Ellie—and was a bit worried to find none. Her last update had been that Ellie and Emma had found a “scrumptious” new brunch place. Lizzie never thought she’d see the day when Ellie used the word scrumptious—that word had Emma written all over it.

  Still, that didn’t dampen her excitement for Anne. She tossed the list of suspects onto her bedside table. As much fun as it had been to chat with Dante, as much as her cheeks burned when she remembered being pressed against him, she was no closer to knowing who on the list could be the new owners than before.

  If anything, Dante presented a compelling case for why each could be the new owner. They all had the resources, the means, and even the eccentricity. She was tempted to discount any Jasta alumni. Why would they rename the school they’d loved and why would they hide their identities?

  That still left eighteen suspects to sift through. Maybe she could enlist more of Dante’s help.

  Oh, who was she kidding—this wasn’t about the list anymore and she knew it.

  “Oh, thank God you’re here,” Anne gushed as she floated into the room and fell back on the bed.

  Lizzie p
ushed the image of her and Dante entwined to the back of her mind. She’d started Anne on this path for Rick, and she was going to see it through. Her feelings for Dante would have to wait. “Spill,” she said. “Are you guys dating now?”

  “No,” Anne said, “But…I never would have imagined.” She sat up and began pulling her dark, lush hair into a ponytail. “He was talking to me. Actually talking to me! And relaxed. Can you believe it?”

  “Of course I can,” Lizzie said. “I suggested it, remember?”

  “And what about you and Dante? We passed you guys in the office at one point and you looked pretty cozy. What’s that about? I thought you hated him.”

  “I thought I did, too,” Lizzie said, laughing. “He’s all right. But okay, okay, enough about him. Now we just need to make sure you’re next to Rick at dinner. Come on.”

  Lizzie pulled Anne down the hall, meeting up with Georgiana on the way.

  “Are you guys okay?” Georgiana asked as they kept giggling.

  “We’re perfect,” Lizzie said.

  They turned into the dining room. Lizzie was surprised to see the guys had already arrived. Mrs. Wright sat at the head of the table, a dark blue scarf tied around her head.

  Rick sat at his mother’s right hand, with Dante and Edward next to him, which meant the girls had to sit across from them.

  “Lizzie.” Rick’s mother patted the place setting to her left. “Please, join me.”

  Lizzie hesitated—that would put her across from Rick. She supposed if Anne sat across from Dante, it would still be close enough to speak to Rick.

  “Come join your bro,” Dante said to Georgiana, gesturing across from him. Georgiana skipped to the seat—leaving only the seat opposite Edward available for Anne. The furthest possible seat from Rick.

  Lizzie waited for Rick to tell his mom no, that he wanted Anne across from him. But he didn’t. In fact, he didn’t look at Anne at all. If Lizzie hadn’t witnessed their tender moment during the pool game, she wouldn’t have believed it had happened, given the cold shoulder he was currently giving Anne.

  She wanted to protest, to yell at him, but Anne held her head high and took her seat across from Edward, leaving Lizzie to sit across from Rick.