by H. M. Ward
Darcy blinks slowly, parting his lips to speak, but nothing comes out. Instead, he drops his hand and stands aside, shoving his hand back into his pocket. He’s letting me leave.
I’m at the door, the cold metal knob is in my hand, but I'm frozen, unable to leave. Glancing over my shoulder, I say softly, “I should have said no. You’re not this guy, and I can't bear for you to hate yourself because of me.”
Darcy looks away as if I slapped him. His tone is sharp when he speaks. “You think too highly of yourself, Miss Bennett. One loose woman doesn’t make a difference to me.” He smiles and turns away, not seeing how his words rip my heart in two.
* * *
I don’t sleep that night. Jane is high from her date with Cameron, giggling about him until she passes out close to dawn. I’m tired of lying here, and I’ve had way too much time to think about Darcy. I need to banish him from my mind, so I drag my body out of bed and pull on sweats. After strapping my sneakers to my feet, I’m out the door, headed to the park.
As I pad down the hall, I hear an odd noise coming from Mary’s room. It's almost a cooing sound. I smile. Mary tried to free Lucy over ten times, but Lucy keeps coming back.
Soon I’m outside and jogging into the park. The city is covered with a thin layer of fog this morning. As I hit the trail in the park, I watch the sun rise between the trees. Orange and gold streak through the sky and begin to burn off the haze.
By the time I’m ready to fall over, I’ve run over five miles and still have to get home. I slow and let my pulse come back down. My goal was to run until I no longer thought of Darcy, but my mind is never far from him. I don’t know how he can be so cold and cruel after something like that.
I was nothing to him, a conquest. I got it. I don’t need another humiliating lesson in love with William Darcy to figure it out. But still, for a moment, I believed him, and I guess that’s the problem.
CHAPTER 28
“Excuse me. I need to get to the sugar packets.” I look up at the young woman holding a carrier with cups of coffee.
“Oh, sorry about that.” I move out of her way. It’s crowded in the coffeehouse, people sipping hot beverages as they stare robotically at laptops and cell phones. Baristas yell out orders, competing with the low rumble of the crowd and the anchorwoman reading out the morning news from the wall-mounted corner television.
After not sleeping last night, I'm in desperate need of caffeine. Waking up at four in the morning every day for the past few weeks to accompany Dad to his office has been a challenge. I’m not sure how much help I am to him. Instead of getting better, he seems to be getting worse. I keep busy doing as much as he allows me to do. A few days, he even left the office early to rest while I stayed and finished up some paperwork for him. At least, I thought he went home to rest. Sometimes he’d leave in the afternoon, but when I finally got home late in the evening, he wasn’t at the apartment. Then there were times he’d leave in the middle of the afternoon for hours at a time. At first, I thought he was just at a business meeting, but when even his receptionist didn’t know where he was, I grew suspicious. I’d text his phone, but he wouldn’t respond. I tried to talk with him about it, but he’d wave me away saying his work was confidential.
By the time I got home from my run this morning, Dad had already left without me. He wrote a note telling me to take my time and requested I pick up a cappuccino for him on my way.
“Grande cappuccino, tall hazelnut latte, and tall mocha,” a voice calls out.
I take my drinks and am making my way through the crowd when I hear a familiar name through the television’s speakers.
“And in business news, Marcia Davis, CFO of the multi-billion dollar corporation Darcy Biopharm, has taken on a new role as head of the newly formed Darcy Foundation.”
My jaw drops as William’s face appears on the screen. He speaks into a reporter’s microphone. “Darcy Biopharm’s loss is our foundation's gain. I can think of no other person with Ms. Davis’ skills better suited to nurture and grow the Darcy Foundation. Through her leadership, the Foundation will help the lives of millions suffering from preventable diseases in third world countries.”
The camera pans to an attractive woman with curly black hair and caramel skin. “This is a great honor. My coworkers at Darcy Biopharm are like family to me, and though I’ll miss them all, I’m happy to continue my connection with Darcy Biopharm through my work with the Darcy Foundation. Furthermore, I’m thrilled to have the opportunity to positively affect the lives of so many people. I would never have had such a wonderful opportunity without the generosity and guidance of William Darcy.”
Darcy's face is still commanding the news channels when I arrive at Dad's office suite. I glare at the TV. He’s still an asshat.
“Hi, Sandra,” I say to Dad’s secretary, pausing at her desk. “I got you a mocha.”
“Thanks, Beth.” She smiles as I hand her the drink.
There wasn’t an extra room in the suite, so Dad placed my desk next to Sandra’s. You can't really call it a desk, more a folding table and chair with a laptop. Dad offered to buy office furniture for me, but spending more money was the last thing I wanted him to do.
Still lost in my thoughts, I enter Dad’s office with his coffee. It’s empty. I turn back to Sandra. “Where’s my father? Is he at a business meeting?”
She glances at her computer. “He has something marked on his calendar, but it’s set to private. Would you like me to call him for you?”
“No, thanks.” I open my laptop and tackle the stack of paper on my desk. My tasks are monotonous and boring, so I alternate between checking Facebook and doing work.
A few hours pass with no sign of dad. I’m thinking of sending him a text when I get a Facebook message from Jane.
JANE: Are you busy?
ME: No. What’s up?
JANE: Cameron broke up with me.
ME: What? Are you sure?
JANE: We’re supposed to go to a B&B in Vermont tomorrow. He canceled. He said he had to leave for San Jose and didn’t know when he’d be back.
ME: Maybe he’s just going away on business?
JANE: No. He broke up with me. It’s over.
My Facebook page refreshes and I see Jane’s status. She’s listening to Adele, which means she’s crying her ass off.
ME: Awh, Jane. Don’t worry. It’s just a business trip. He’ll be back.
JANE: I don’t think so. It’s like he broke up with me without breaking up with me.
ME: Are you sure?
JANE: He texted that he was canceling. He won’t return my calls.
ME: That could mean anything. It’s not you, Jane. Maybe he…
Before I can finish, her next message appears.
JANE: He deleted his Facebook page.
Quickly, I scroll through my list of Facebook friends and click on an icon of Cameron’s smiling face. Nothing. Shit. This can’t be right. He loves her!
JANE: I don't know what to do. I love him, Beth.
I close my eyes, fighting back pain I feel on Jane's behalf. Out of all of us, she most deserves to be happy and cherished. Something bad must’ve happened. I eye Gwen’s photo on my list of Facebook friends. She would know what’s going on.
I’m about to send her a message when the office door opens, followed by Sandra’s gasp.
“Mr. Darcy!” Sandra’s hands fly up to her messy hair, smoothing it. “It’s an honor to meet you, sir. Mr. Bennet isn’t in at the moment. I didn’t realize he had an appointment with you this morning.”
Sandra is flustered as Dickwad approaches her desk. Even when he's wearing his don’t-bother-me expression, he’s amazingly attractive. But today, he’s different. The perpetual brooding look on his face is gone. His dark hair is tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it nervously. His eyes are warm and incredibly blue. His face is completely open, relaxed, and vulnerable, reminding me of the expression Cameron wears every time I see him with Jane.
My s
tomach sours immediately. I study him suspiciously and notice he’s dressed casually, too casually for someone like him and in the middle of the workweek. He’s wearing dark gray slacks and a white, collared shirt that highlights his handsome face.
He lifts his eyes and startles when they lock on mine. I suck in my breath at the raw emotion on his face. My mind flashes over our last encounter—the taste of his mouth, his skin, his hands all over my body—followed up by the message every woman wants to receive: You mean nothing to me.
“I don’t.” His eyes hold mine as he answers Sandra. “I was hoping to drop in and catch him for a moment. It’s all right. I’ll try again another time.”
Darcy is staring at me as if he wants to say something else, but he doesn’t. Sandra throws a quick look at me and then back to Darcy. The room grows still for a moment. I’m too busy willing my heart to stop slamming into my ribs to wonder why he’s looking for Dad.
Sandra finally cuts the tension, and visibly startles Darcy. “Would you like some coffee?”
“No, thank you.” He’s still staring at me.
What the fuck? Just go away. Pretend last night never happened. Don’t come back and look at me like I’m a freak later.
“Move along Darcy. All your conquests, I mean concerns, have been added to Dad’s notes. You want me to tell him anything else?” Like how you defiled his daughter on the roof of a hotel and then acted like she was trash?
I blink at him, ready to verbally bitchslap him. Goddamnit! Say something. Why doesn’t he move? He just stands there in front of my desk, looking at me.
“Grow a pair, Darcy. If you have something to say, spit it out.” I tap my nails on the desk and glare up at him.
His eyes dart around the office as he wipes his hands nervously on his slacks.
Sandra starts laughing nervously, which seems to snap him out of it. Darcy turns to her and nods once in a courteous way. “I’m sorry to have bothered you.”
“It was no bother. Stop by anytime.” Sandra walks him out the door, and when she reappears a moment later, she’s visibly flushed. "Beth! The way you spoke! Do you know him?"
"Not very well, it would seem."
Sandra smiles broadly at me in an unreal way, leaving her jaw dropped too long, obviously excited. “Can you imagine? THE William Darcy! Here? In this office? I wonder what that was all about!”
“A mistake,” I whisper to myself. “An incredibly huge mistake.”
CHAPTER 29
The rest of the morning crawls by like an unending funeral procession. I’m holding my head up with my hand, and my elbow's gone numb from sitting too long.
Colin bounces through the door. “Oh, thank goodness. You’re here,” he says out of breath. “I have to talk to you.”
Sandra glances my way. “Should I scan some more files?” That’s code for, ‘do you need privacy?’
“No, but thanks for offering. We’ll go into Dad’s office.”
“Bring your laptop with you,” Colin shouts as he struts into the little room. When I close the door to Dad’s office, Colin plops on the loveseat, grinning at me. He folds his hands in his lap and looks like he ate the cat and the canary. “So.”
“So what?” I’m grumpy. Today sucked. Yesterday sucked. I’m on the train to Suck Town and can’t seem to get off.
“Don’t play coy with me. I know you have a thing with Darcy.”
“What?” My voice raises an octave as I whirl around and stare at him. “I do not!”
He blinks and makes a face. “Ok. Someone needs new PMS pills. I meant, what’d you do to Darcy? I ran into him earlier, and he looked like he might throw up. He came from here, so I naturally assumed it was you.”
“Gee, thanks.” My mouth grows dry. I grab a small watering can and busy myself watering the plants. “Did he say something?”
“No. He didn’t notice me.”
I let out a breath. “No clue.”
“I’m surprised he’s leaving with all his body parts after what he did. I’m surprised he had the balls to come here at all. Why was he here?”
I pinch dead leaves off one of the office plants, buying time. If I turn around, Colin will see it on my face—I did too much with Darcy, and now I regret it. Turns out his manners only apply to pleases and thank yous. They have little to do with nailing yours truly on a roof.
Plus, Colin will run Darcy over with his Hummer if he thinks I'm hurt and, since I want him thinking that I don’t care, Colin can’t know about it.
“He wanted to meet with Dad about some business stuff. Nothing important. He ran in and ran out, managing to get his oversized asshat caught in the door. It was a sight to see.” I set down the watering can, tip my head to the side and smile placidly. “Fun times.”
Colin smirks. “OMG! You don’t know.”
Colin’s eyes are huge, and he’s pressing his fingertips together. I laugh deeply and shake my head, careful to make eye contact, but not for long enough that he can really look at me. “So, what’d Asshat do?”
Please don’t say, 'he did you.' Please, please, please!
“Seriously, you don’t know? Anne Degatto said Darcy saved Cameron from making a huge mistake. He was going to ask Jane to marry him.”
“Wait, slow down. What do you mean Darcy 'saved' Cameron?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you.” He’s talking with his hands now, trying to get my full attention. “Darcy convinced Cameron to break up with Jane.”
“He did not.”
“He did. But it gets better! Cameron didn’t want to hurt Jane.” Colin’s like a cat batting a mouse when he has juicy gossip. Just say it already!
“Colin, what did he do?” My voice is a low monotone. I glare at him.
He flinches. “Holy shit, Bethy-pie. You’re channeling a little too much of your mom there. Dial it back down.”
“TELL ME!”
“Okay, okay! Darcy told Cameron he needed to end things, and if he didn’t want to be cruel, he could gradually disappear from her life—slip away like a boat that someone forgot to tie up. Like a dog with no leash. Like a—”
“Like a foot up your ass.” I smile at him, fluttering my eyes like a 50’s housewife.
“You’re cranky today. Fine, long story short, he told Cameron to go to San Jose on an extended business trip, and that over time Jane would forget about him and move on to someone else.”
I blink at him, stunned. Why would someone do that to Jane and Cameron? Anyone can see they are in love. Darcy broke them up. It comes to me slowly, contorting my face in stages until I erupt. “Holy fuck! Who does he think he is? Darcy can’t make them not love each other.”
Dial it down, Beth! He’ll figure out that something else is going on. Colin’s not an idiot. He’s watching me with his beady little hawk eyes right now. I throw my head back and strangle the air. “She was so happy, Colin. Now she's devastated! I talked to her earlier, and she says she’ll be fine, but damn! Why can’t people stay out of other people’s business?” I sit down hard next to him.
Colin practically bounces in the air before settling back into his slouchy spot. “Yeah, you’re preaching to the choir, girl. Have you met my parents?”
“What now?” I rush ahead, thinking he might have told them the truth. “Did you come out and them you're gay? What did they say?”
“No, I didn’t. But if I don’t do something soon to fix this, I’m dead,” he groans and covers his face with his arm.
“They’re not going to kill you, Colin. Your parents love you even if they have a funny way of showing it.”
He opens up my laptop and starts typing. “Uh, yeah. You’ll change your mind after you see this.” After a few clicks, he hands it to me. “Take a look.”
“You’re overreacting.” The screen is open to the Ruben Micucci website, an extremely popular web blog for celebrity news and gossip. “There’s nothing you can show me that—Damn, Colin! What are you wearing? Are those leather chaps?”
He jut
s out his jaw. “Yup.”
“Um, aren’t you supposed to wear something underneath them, like oh, I don’t know, clothes? This is clearly not a commando outfit! Why is your ass on this website?”
“Yeah, that’d be why my parents are going to kill me.” He looks at me sheepishly.
I gawk at the photo, shaking my head. For such a smart guy, Colin does stupid things sometimes. The blurry picture is of a crowd of people hanging around outside a well-known gay bar. Mateo is in the mix, shirtless, wearing skintight leather pants. He’s standing close to a man wearing black leather chaps, clearly groping that man’s bare ass.
“Maybe no one will notice,” I offer hopefully. “Your face is hidden.”
“You knew it was me!”
“Only because you’re wearing the neon green cowboy boots I bought you for your birthday last year.”
“Did you read the blurb? Micucci names me as one of the people in the picture. It’s only a matter of time before the mainstream media picks up on it. Please, Beth, you have to help me out of this.”
My eyes skim over the blurb. It mentions Colin as the son of Michael Frey and speculates whether Colin’s sexual orientation will be a factor in his father’s run for Senate in Texas. “I don’t know what I can do to help. Maybe we could email Micucci and ask him to take it down.”
“Please. Micucci would never do that. Look how many comments the post has. It barely went up an hour ago!” Colin sounds frantic. I scroll through the comments. There are over a thousand of them.
“That’s not good. But look at the bright side. A lot of the comments are very supportive. This one says he’s behind you all the way when you decide to come out. Hey!”
Colin slams the lid shut, barely missing my fingers. “You CAN help me, Beth. Marry me.” He places a black box onto the laptop. “Now.”
