by Krista Lakes
“Of course,” Charles said with a smile, his eyes going back to the blushing Jane. Mr. Darcy simply gave an elegant nod.
I turned and left, feeling incredibly awkward. I was not expecting Mr. Darcy to be half so civil. I opened the door to leave and glanced back, finding that Mr. Darcy was still watching me. I instinctively smiled before hurrying out the door.
I had no idea what we were in store for tonight, but I did know that at least Lydia would be pleased.
Chapter 6
The lights of New York City sparkled in the dark sky instead of stars as we left our building and found a limo waiting for us. Lydia squealed with delight and clapped her hands as soon as she saw it, and even Jane looked impressed. It wasn’t every day that we got to take a limo to a fancy nightclub.
The driver opened the door as we approached. Charles and Mr. Darcy were waiting for us inside the limo. Charles grinned as we got in. Mr. Darcy was talking on his phone.
Jane sat next to Charles. Lydia was the next in, which meant that I had to sit next to Mr. Darcy. He had dressed for the club and looked sexy as sin. He wore dark pants with a matching dress jacket. A crisp white button dress shirt peeked out from underneath his jacket, but he’d left it unbuttoned, giving him an easy, devilish look. If I didn’t know that his personality was not as handsome, I would have been very attracted to him.
I, of course, did my best to ignore him as he hung up the phone. There was no way I was going to tell him he looked good. His ego was already too big.
“You all look amazing,” Charles remarked as the car started moving forward.
Jane blushed. Jane was showing off her long legs and just enough cleavage to tease anyone who looked. Lydia had spent the afternoon convincing her it was a good idea to look sexy.
“They’re designer dresses,” Lydia announced. She was wearing a tiny little dress that left very little to the imagination. Mine was sweetheart cut and short, but more fun than overtly sexy.
“They’re rentals,” I added. Lydia glared at me, but I wasn’t about to get called a gold-digger again because I was wearing a dress I couldn’t afford. “A way for us common folk to get our hands on designer clothes without spending a fortune.”
“What a smart idea,” Charles replied. “I’ve never heard of anything like that.”
“It is smart, isn’t it?” I replied but looked at Mr. Darcy. His jaw tightened, and it made me smile. Score one for me.
“So, Lux?” Jane said, changing the subject. “I’ve never been.”
“Is anyone famous going to be there tonight?” Lydia asked, fluttering her eyelashes at the two men.
I glared at her from across the limo. Why did she have to make everything we did about becoming famous?
“What?” She gave me the most teenager shrug I’d seen in weeks.
“There will be some big names there,” Charles interjected, trying to keep the mood light. “ We just opened last week, so we’re trying to keep the momentum up.”
“You said you own the club?” Jane asked.
“It’s one of my investments. I’m a silent partner since I’m not really known for my nightclubs. I’m more of a hotel guy,” Charles explained. He smiled at Jane. “I hope you like it.”
“I know I will,” she assured him.
“If you ever need someone to be on promotional materials, I’m really photogenic,” Lydia told him, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Thank you, Lydia,” I replied. “I’m sure he’ll keep you in mind.”
I was going to have to talk with her. She couldn’t just keep pressing everyone she met to make her famous. I knew it was just because it was her dream and she was motivated, but she needed to work on making it sound less skeezy.
“We’re here,” Mr. Darcy announced. It was the first thing he’d said all night.
Mr. Darcy was the first to exit the limo. He held out his hand to help me out, and I took it without thinking. His grasp was solid and firm, holding me safely as I stepped out onto the street. But there was more to it than that. His touch stayed with me, sending little jolts of desire up my arm and down my spine.
I looked up and into his blue eyes. His gaze caught me off balance, and it was a good thing he was holding my hand, or I would have fallen. I felt something awake inside of me, but judging from his face, he didn’t feel the same.
He simply made sure I was steady before letting me go and helping my sister out of the limo. My fingers tingled from where he touched me as I waited for the others. I watched him, not seeing any sign that he’d felt the same connection I did.
I knew I was being ridiculous. He was an ass. He hated me, and I hated him. It had to be in my head that we’d connected. My body was just responding to the fact that he was incredibly sexy and just my type. That had to be it. It was all physical.
The line to get into Lux wrapped around the street corner and down the block. Men and women in tight black clothing and fancy shoes all stood out in the November cold waiting to get in.
But we walked right in the front door without even a pause. The two security guards nodded to Charles and pulled back the red-velvet ropes. Between the limo and the no wait time, I could see Lydia’s attraction with being famous. Not that I was ever going to go to her extremes, but I could at least see the appeal.
A photographer was waiting inside and snapped our picture without warning. The flash made my eyes blur for a moment, but I managed to put on a smile for the next picture. Jane veered to my left, shying away from the camera as much as possible. Despite being model beautiful, she hated getting her picture taken. She said she always looked terrible and avoided photos as much as possible.
Lydia on the other hand, stood posing for the photographer for another three shots before I pushed her inside to follow Charles and the rest of the group.
The club was hopping. Blue and silver lights flashed and swung over the packed dance floor on the first level. A second level wrapped around the edges of the building, providing places to sit and drink and look down on the dancers below. We had to go through another set of velvet ropes to go up, which told me that the upstairs was VIP only.
Music pulsed with a heavy beat that made my body want to move as we walked up the open staircase. Everywhere people were dancing, drinking, and having a good time. I grinned as we walked, knowing that I was going to have a great time tonight. I was going to dance and enjoy myself here.
Charles led us to a large table on the second level that overlooked the dance floor. We could see everything from up here. The DJ spun in his booth and dancers writhed to his music below us. This was the best table in the entire place.
“Champagne?” Charles offered as we took our seats at the comfortable lounge table. The table was round and made of reflective glass, while two benches wrapped around it. The seats were velvety and helped insulate from the sound below us so we could hold a conversation. Two bottles of Dom Perignon were waiting for us. I nodded, completely impressed.
“Yes, please,” Jane whispered. Her eyes were big as she took a glass in a shaky hand. Crowds were not her thing. She gave me a nervous smile as she took a big sip of her drink and tried to relax. Her idea of a good time would be a quiet restaurant or a romantic dinner at home.
She smiled at me. I knew she was trying to have a good time, but this was not her idea of a good time. She was here because she wanted to spend time with Charles, not because she wanted to dance in the crowd. I squeezed her hand.
“Charles, this is amazing,” I said, taking a glass of champagne from him. “Thank you so much for bringing us.”
“You are very welcome,” he replied. He glanced over at Jane, and she did her best to give him a big smile. “I hope you like it.”
“Very much,” Lydia assured him. She looked pleased as a cat in a canary cage as she looked around. I could only imagine what she was thinking of doing next.
“A toast,” Charles announced once everyone had their champagne. “To new friends.”
Everyone, even Mr. Darcy
, clinked their glasses together and repeated the words.
The photographer returned just as we finished our toast. She held up the camera this time, prepping us for another round of pictures. We all leaned in, except Jane, and smiled. The camera flashed, and the photographer frowned. She motioned to Jane to move in closer.
Jane sighed, put on her best smile and tried to fit in the picture. Even I knew that she was just going to look out of place with the fake smile and uncomfortable pose. The photographer took the picture and shrugged before walking off to take more photos. I hoped it didn’t look too terrible, for Jane’s sake. She hated pictures like that as it was.
“William, how is your sister?” Charles asked, leaning back and sipping his champagne. “I heard she might be coming to town soon.”
Who the hell is William? I thought for a moment before remembering that Mr. Darcy had a first name. I just wasn’t supposed to use it. I looked over to see a smile flicker across his normally serious face.
“She is coming in December,” he replied. “She loves New York this time of year. I half suspect that’s the only reason she’s willing to leave London. That and to get away from our aunt.”
“You have a sister?” Jane asked. “Older or younger?”
“Younger,” he answered. He still had a smile on his face. “Her name’s Georgiana.”
“Does she work for your company?” Lydia asked. “If she’s like you, you must have her on all your fliers.”
His smile flickered and faded. “No, she’s been ill.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. Those blue eyes came to mine, and I found it hard to breathe again. How did he have such a strong effect on me?
“Thank you,” he said. I had no idea how he did that to me. I hated his guts, yet one look from him and my body decided that was something we could get over.
“She’s doing better now,” Mr. Darcy continued, looking away and freeing me from his spellbinding gaze. “She wants to help with the company once she’s stronger.”
“Do you think she can do it?” I asked, half hoping he’d look at me like that again.
“What, work?” He took another sip of champagne, looking like the billionaire playboy that he was. “Once she’s healthy enough, yes. Running a business, especially a multi-billion dollar one, isn’t for the weak. It’s hard work.”
“I can attest to that,” Charles agreed. “And mine’s not even a billion dollars. Yet.”
Mr. Darcy nodded. “There’s not many that can do it and even fewer in her condition. I wouldn’t and couldn’t ask it of her.”
I wanted to ask him what illness his sister had. Being a nurse, I was always curious to know more medically, but I knew a nightclub wasn’t exactly the best place to ask. Besides, a sibling’s health was personal. However, I didn’t even get the chance to ask before a woman in a slinky black dress came up.
“Hi, William,” she purred, leaning against the chair and smiling at him. How did she get to call him William and I didn’t?
Then I realized the answer. She oozed sex. She was clearly what he had been looking to take home the night of the fundraiser. I could barely believe that Mr. Darcy thought this sexy woman and I were in the same class. She had curves I could only dream of.
Mr. Darcy looked up from his drink. “Yes?”
“Would you like to dance?” She fluttered her eyelashes and puffed her chest out a little bit. Someone was getting laid. Or rather, as the Brits said, shagged.
“I don’t dance,” he said flatly, turning away and sipping on his drink.
The woman blinked twice. She looked around the table, pausing at me for a moment before shrugging. “Oh. Okay then.”
She waited a moment longer for Mr. Darcy to change his mind before sashaying off.
“You don’t dance?” I asked Mr. Darcy, watching the girl who was made for dancing walk away. “It’s a club. Everyone dances. That’s kind of the point.”
“I don’t dance,” he repeated.
“It’s not hard,” I told him. “You just move your feet to the beat.”
“I didn’t say that I can’t dance,” he told me, setting down his drink. “I said that I don’t.”
I took a sip of my champagne, feeling the bubbles against my nose. “She wanted more than just dancing on the dance floor. Considering what you said the night we met, I thought you’d be interested in someone like that.”
I could have sworn his cheeks flushed, but it was probably just the flashing lights of the club.
“She’s not looking for a dance partner,” he said, stressing the word dance. “She’s looking for a meal ticket. And I’m not interested in that.”
“Really?” I set my drink down. “Do I need to repeat what you said about me?”
Mr. Darcy’s jaw tightened. “Do you see who she moved onto? She isn’t looking for a good time. She’s looking for someone to pay her way.”
I followed his gaze to the young woman who was now sitting at another VIP table. An older but attractive man in an expensive suit had his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he handed her a glass of what appeared to be expensive champagne.
“So?” I asked. “Why do you assume the worst? I see two people having fun. A dance doesn’t mean she’s going to steal all his money. She wants to dance and the people up here don’t have partners. If I were looking for someone to dance with, I’d try up here too.”
“And you wouldn’t want a thing after? You wouldn’t ask for expensive jewelry or lavish accommodations?”
“Do women usually ask that of you?” I asked. “Besides, what if they fall madly in love? She’s in the VIP area. Maybe she’s paying for his drinks. She knew you, so she’s obviously not broke.”
He looked at me with those serious eyes again, evaluating. I wondered if I said something stupid yet again.
“What?” I asked, waiting to be told I was wrong.
“You see the good in people,” he replied. “I don’t. For me, everyone wants something.”
“Everyone wants to matter,” I said. “For some, that means money, but for most people, it means they want a connection. To feel special. If you don’t give people a chance, they can’t surprise you with how good they can be.”
He finished his glass of champagne, and I wasn’t sure if he was ignoring my words or considering them. Given it was Mr. Darcy, my bet was on ignoring them. He’d already made it clear I was beneath him.
He reached for his phone and checked the screen.
“Excuse me,” he said, rising from his seat. “Business calls.”
He took his phone out and answered it, moving away from the music and toward a more quiet area of the club to talk. Given that he was friends with Charles, he was probably headed to the club’s office. It seemed silly to come to a club at all if that was what he was going to do.
“Where’s he off to?” Lydia asked, pouring herself a second glass of champagne.
“Business,” I replied. “I admit, I work a lot, but that just seems excessive.”
“I’m actually surprised he came tonight,” Charles replied. “He has a big meeting tomorrow morning. His company is merging with another. It’s rather touch-and-go at the moment.”
“He came because he wanted to help you,” Jane said. “He’s a good friend.”
“That he is,” Charles agreed, patting her arm. “Would you like to dance?”
“No!” Jane blushed. “I mean, no thank you. Can we just stay up here?”
Charles looked down at the dancers below us and back to Jane. “Of course. How about another toast, then?”
The four of us clinked our glasses together again. “To a good time,” we chorused.
“I want to dance,” Lydia announced. She grabbed my hand, knowing that Jane hated crowds.
“Have another drink,” I whispered to Jane as I stood up. “You’re doing great.”
Jane smiled meekly and gulped at her champagne. I was going to have to tell Charles not to take her to crowded places like this. It wasn’t J
ane’s style, but I knew she would say yes to anything he offered. She wanted to be with him.
Lydia and I walked down the stairs and onto the crowded dance floor. Halfway down, I looked back up at the table to see Mr. Darcy watching me.
I shrugged. He didn’t want to dance anyway. He could just stay up there and do business. I was going to have some fun.
Chapter 7
The crowd absorbed me, and the music became my world. Lydia was dancing with someone within seconds of hitting the dance floor. Knowing her, she'd either have the whole club dancing with her by the end of the night or have the entire security team throwing her out. I hoped it was the first. I could see enough bouncers that I wasn't worried about her safety. She was safe here in Charles Bingley's club.
I started dancing, letting the champagne and music loosen my hips. I wasn't anywhere near drunk, just tipsy and loose. I felt good, and I knew that in this dress, I looked good too. I was going to enjoy myself. It wasn't often that I got to dance.
Someone tapped my shoulder. Thinking I was in the way of a person trying to get by, I turned and prepared to move to the side. A short man in khakis and a polo shirt with a work logo stood unmoving in front of me.
“Can I help you?” I asked over the music when he didn't try to get past me.
“Do you want to...” The music drowned out his voice.
“I can't hear you,” I told him, shaking my head and pointing to my ears.
“DO YOU WANT TO DANCE?” He yelled, enunciating every word.
“Um, sure,” I told him, not wanting to be rude. It wasn't like I was dancing with anyone else.
He put his hands on my hips and stood at arm's length away. I didn't know what else to do with my hands except put them on his shoulders. It felt like an awkward middle school dance all over again.
“I'm Collins,” he shouted over the music. “What's your name?”
“Lizzie,” I replied. I already wished the song would come to an end. Shuffling my feet back and forth while he stood a good two feet away with his hands awkwardly on my hips was not fun dancing. We weren't even with the beat of the song.
