The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice

by Colette Saucier

  “Yes.”

  “That would be my choice.”

  “Do you agree with him? No one is incorruptible?”

  “Alice,” Winnie said, and Alice would have sworn Peter flinched at the sound of her voice.

  “Did you think of a book?” Alice asked her.

  “Alice, you must be burning up in that-that mu-mu.” She waved her hand over Alice’s long white swimsuit cover.

  “I am actually quite comfortable, but thanks for your concern.”

  Ignoring the interruption, Peter said, “You are obviously an intelligent woman, and I can always tell in the scripts which lines came from you. What are you doing wasting your time writing for a soap?”

  This time, the hackles would not be suppressed. “I could very well ask you why you waste your time acting.”

  “It’s hardly the same thing.”

  “True. I actually write something original, while you recite someone else’s words.”

  He stared at her, or at least she thought he did, for what seemed like several minutes but couldn’t have been. Finally, he said, “You’re right.”

  “Alice, come for a swim with me,” Winnie said, and they both looked up at her.

  “Uh, not right now, thanks.” What the hell? Why doesn’t she ask her damn boyfriend to swim with her and leave me alone? Until that afternoon, Winnie had never spoken to Alice, and now she pretended they were the best of friends.

  The sounds of laughter and splashing then drew their attention to the end of the pool as Jack lifted Giselle and dropped her into the water.

  “Giselle is such a pretty girl,” Winnie said. “It’s a shame she’ll never have a career outside of soaps.”

  “What makes you say that?” Alice asked. “Lots of actors get their start in soaps.”

  “Perhaps, but she’s been on that show too long for it to be a start.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s true,” Peter said.

  Alice set her book aside before she might rip it apart. “Well, you’re on the soap now, Peter. Wouldn’t that be considered a step backwards? Are you now doomed to a career in soaps?”

  “I already have an established film career, with another movie this summer. No one would think I have taken the role out of desperation or because I am at the end of my career. Most people in the industry see this for what it is – a power play by the network. For a soap opera actress like Giselle to begin a film career, she would need connections that she doesn’t have.”

  Alice jerked herself up and tossed her book down. “Come to think of it, I am feeling kind of hot. I think I will go for a swim.” With that, she yanked off her swimsuit cover and threw it down and started for the pool.

  “A one-piece?” Winnie asked with a laugh as if shocked by the very idea.

  “Yes, Winnie, some people actually buy swimsuits for swimming.”

  As she dove into the deep end, Alice knew one thing for certain – Peter Walsingham would never kiss her friend again.

  CHAPTER 6

  Peter crashed into her office with such violence the door hit the wall.

  “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

  “Uh – Door. Closed. There for a reason.” Alice had never seen him so angry before – not even on screen – with his eyes bulging and his nostrils flaring and his fist twisted around what must have at one point been the script – and it pleased her immensely.

  Her calm manner only provoked him, and he threw the mutilated script on her desk. “Are you insane?”

  “If you do not calm down, I will have to ask you to leave.”

  He turned away and ran his fingers through his hair, possibly pulling some of it out in the process. “This is spite, isn’t it? Is this because of what I said about soaps and Giselle over at Jack’s?”

  Yes. “Don’t be ridiculous.” When he faced her again, she knew she was smirking, but she couldn’t help herself.

  “I won’t do it.”

  “You have no choice.”

  “It’s incest, Alice!”

  “No, it isn’t. Tristan and Sienna haven’t slept together.”

  He began pacing the short distance from one side of her office to the other. “But I kissed her.”

  She rolled her eyes and sighed and hoped she appeared bored with his tiresome behavior. “So did Luke.”

  “Luke and Laura?”

  “No, Luke Skywalker. He and Princess Leia kissed, and no one cared when they – Hey! How do you know about Luke and Laura? From General Hospital?”

  “So my mother-er-Tristan’s mother walks in while I am kissing Sienna and then announces that I am the product of her affair with Sienna’s father?”

  “How do you know characters from General Hospital? I thought you didn’t know anything about soap operas.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “Would you forget about Luke and Laura!”

  “You’re the one who brought them up. And you were the one who thought no one would believe you and Eileen were brother and sister. Well, there you have it – you have different fathers. Would you sit down? Watching you walk back and forth is giving me a crick in my neck. It’s like watching a tennis match in slow motion.”

  He closed the door and sat across from her, piercing her with his stare. Damn his eyes. Huh. Maybe that’s where that expression comes from.

  “Why are you doing this? I am supposed to be the romantic lead.”

  “We both know you think this is beneath you. You will be gone before the end of the year. Plus you’re getting ready to go off and film a movie in Tabora.”

  “Toronto.”

  “Whatever. The show needs a strong storyline going into the Olympics so viewers will want to come back. Sienna needs more than a story arc. She needs a husband. She has never even been married. If this show is going to survive after you leave, I need something I can build on so maybe she can get married next year.”

  She was relieved when he finally broke the gaze. He tapped his finger on her desk like Morse code and pulled his top lip with his bottom teeth.

  “Won’t I be devastated by this?”

  “Of course. You should read the rest of the script. This is the perfect reason for you to go away for a while and get your head together. You were in love with her.”

  “But the man I always believed was my father –”

  She waved his words away. “You never liked him anyway. He’s the reason you went out to sea in the first place.”

  He rubbed his hands over his face, inhaled deeply, and exhaled fully. “Can I at least gouge out my eyes?”

  “You didn’t sleep with your mother. You kissed your sister. And your half-sister at that.”

  He groaned. “Can I at least throw up?”

  “Only projectile vomiting will do. If you can vomit at will, I’ll be happy to write it in for you.”

  He looked at her and smiled. “You would. Wouldn’t you?”

  No, no. This isn’t right. He should not be smiling. “Do you need syrup of ipecac?”

  *****

  The Edge of Darkness

  Chapter 14

  For weeks, Mother tried to find Tony. He had not gone back to the law firm, and no one there had spoken to him. She even hired a private investigator, but it was as if he had vanished into thin air. I could only imagine what he must be going through. To find out that the man he loved and admired his entire life was not his “real” father, and then to think that he had come so close – millimeters close – to having “intercourse” with his sister, I worried he might be on a downward spiral back into the despair he had tried so hard to conquer.

  I couldn’t stay there anymore. I was doing nothing with my life but wallowing in my own misery. I decided to go to New York – the city of my birth – and follow in my biological mother’s footsteps and become an actress. I wanted a fresh start and said goodbye to Lexie and began using Alex. Mother didn’t want me to go, but after I convinced her it was not because I couldn’t forgive her (although I couldn’t help but be angry) she accepted
it. She helped me get settled in an apartment in Chelsea and a job as a hostess at one of the most elite restaurants in Midtown Manhattan.

  I had been living in New York about six months when I realized I was totally, madly, passionately in love – with the city itself. Oh, yes, I had become obsessed with the skyline and the bright lights of Broadway just as so many other young actors had before me; but I even loved the grime of Times Square, and the Punks of CBGB. Once again, I had walked into an entirely different world.

  Now well-established in my new world and lifestyle – auditions by day, the restaurant by night – I finally got my first part, the role of Louise in an off-off-off-Broadway production of Gypsy. I still had not gotten over Tony, and I asked Mother if she had heard from him every time we spoke. Only time heals wounds of the heart, and Tony had taught me that time was too precious to waste on tears. Perhaps this attitude allowed me to submit so easily to infatuation.

  One evening at the restaurant, I had worn my best dress because we had been told a VIP would be dining with us that evening. For this, I loved my job. I relished the idea that someday I could tell my children that I had met a duke. They need not know he was eighty-seven and barely spoke to me. I had always aimed for an exciting life, even as a child.

  Wearing my low-cut, ritzy, satin red gown and wearing some of Mother’s jewelry, which she had sent and refused to take back, I felt sophisticated and kind of sexy. No, very sexy. About eight o’clock, a handsome, tall gentleman, perhaps forty, with dark hair and eyes and a sensuous smile walked in.

  “Hello,” he said quizzically in a strong British accent as his eyes traveled slowly from my shoes up to my face.

  “Good evening. May I help you? I’m Alex Hollingsworth, your hostess.”

  He took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. “A pleasure, Miss Hollingsworth. I do hope it is Miss.”

  I smiled. “Yes, it is.”

  “Then would you think me forward if I asked you to marry me?” I tried to laugh off my blush but managed to giggle like all of my nineteen years. He still rubbed my hand in his. “All right, if not marriage, what of dinner tomorrow night?”

  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

  “Lunch?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  “Then come to my hotel with me tonight, and we shall share breakfast in the morning.”

  I smiled and shook my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why are you rejecting me like this? Can you not see I have fallen completely head over heels in love with you?”

  “We are not allowed to privately associate with our guests.”

  “Then I shall have you fired.”

  “I really couldn’t see you then!”

  “Why not?”

  “I’d have to look for another job.”

  He released my hand and looked away. “James.” He called for Mr. Caine, the manager and my boss, who hurried over to us.

  “Yes, sir! How good to see you again. I hope everything is to your satisfaction.” Mr. Caine practically fell over himself wanting to please this man.

  “Thank you, James, everything is perfect.” Then he eyed me. “Although I do have one complaint.”

  “By all means, sir, how can I help you?”

  “I have become entranced with this young woman who refuses my invitation to dinner because she is under your employ.”

  “Well, yes, sir, that is the policy. Of course, rules are made to be broken. The young lady has my consent, though it is her choice.”

  “Thank you, James. You have made me a terribly happy man. That is,” he turned to me, “if you will accept.”

  “I…” I didn’t know what to do. I looked to my boss for advice, but he had already walked away.

  His hand came to my face and turned my head back to him. Before I knew it, he kissed me! I was so stunned, I couldn’t respond. I couldn’t even decide if I was offended or thrilled.

  “I shall pick you up at eight tomorrow.”

  “But I’ll be working.”

  “I shall take care of it. I hope you will wear something as lovely as the dress you have on this evening.”

  I felt light-headed, as if in a trance. “I…I don’t even know your name.”

  “Robert. Robert Wallace.”

  “Robert Wallace,” I repeated. Then it hit me. “Robert Wallace? Your grace, we have been expecting you.”

  He stepped close to me so our faces were only inches apart and grasped my arm, firm but not harsh. “Dammit, don’t do that,” he said in a low voice. “No matter what my title is, I am just an ordinary man who desperately wants you.”

  I decided. I was thrilled.

  The next night had to be one of the most wonderful in my life. He picked me up in his limousine, where we drank champagne and I had my first taste of caviar. Then we went to dinner followed by dancing. When I thought the night was coming to an end, he brought me to Rockaway where we sat on the beach drinking champagne.

  He had quizzed me almost non-stop through the evening, and I told him everything about losing my parents and moving to Virginia. I told him about Molly being killed last year and Tad being found right after. He went from being sympathetic to horrified as I related my tale.

  “When did you come to New York?”

  “About six months ago.”

  “Why did you decide to make the change?”

  What could I tell him? The truth would be too painful to speak and too shocking to hear. “Please, I’m bored talking about myself. Could we change the subject?”

  He stretched out beside me, reclining with his head braced on his hand, and looked up at me. “You never once mentioned love. Haven’t you ever fallen in love? Has there never been anyone special in your life?”

  The pain bubbled up from deep inside me. “What is it you want from me? Why are you always throwing love in my face?” I could feel the cynicism flowing through my lips.

  “Ooh…you are quite young to be so bitter.” He touched my hair gently. “You have answered my question. If this is not the right time for me to become involved with you, just tell me.”

  I couldn’t stop the tear that slowly fell down my cheek. “You understand. Don’t you?”

  “I understand more than you will ever know.”

  He moved his hand from my hair down to between my shoulder blades and pushed me down into his embrace. He kissed me, gentle at first but then deeply, and his lips were as sensuous as they had first appeared. I had forgotten how wonderful it felt to be held this close, to feel a man’s breath within me. As we lay there in the sand, his hand began to roam, and I pulled away.

  “Is it the wrong time?”

  “No, actually, the timing is perfect. I’m just not used to moving this quickly.”

  He rubbed his finger along my jaw. “Of course, my sweet Virginia girl.”

  *****

  Alice walked down the hall aligned with doors emblazoned with the names of the soap stars, headed to Eileen’s dressing room, and had no intention of, yet couldn’t help overhearing Jack talk to Peter with his door ajar.

  “So I heard a bunch of the cast is going to eighties night at this club in West Hollywood. Are you going?”

  Alice came to a halt in the middle of the hall and squeezed her eyes shut speaking softly to herself. “Oh, please say no. Oh, please say no.”

  “Eighties night…in West Hollywood? You cannot be serious,” Peter said, and Alice offered up a silent prayer of thanks. “I cannot think of any more deplorable waste of an evening.”

  “Come on; it’ll be fun. There’ll be dancing, and it would be good for you to get better acquainted with the other actors.”

  “If you are planning to go, then I am certain it is because my new sister will be there.”

  “What? Oh, well, yeah. Sienna, I mean Giselle said I should come. Don’t tell me you’re still pissed off about that.”

  Alice strained to hear, even squinting as though that would help, but Peter didn’t respond to Jack’s last comment.

&nb
sp; “You know I hate to dance,” he said, “especially to eighties music. That has to have been the worst decade in the history of music. And why should I become acquainted with the other actors on this soap opera? I’m only here temporarily.”

  Alice jumped when Eileen burst out of her dressing room and yelled her name. Shit. She hoped Peter and Jack didn’t figure out she’d been eavesdropping.

  “Oh, yes, it’s ladies night,” Eileen sang out, “and it’s eighties night. Yes, it’s eighties night, and the mood is right.” She came up beside Alice, with arms raised and snapping in time to her improvised song, and bumped her hip against Alice’s, and Alice had no choice but to bump back.

  As Eileen continued to sing, melding her own lyrics into a medley with “we need the bump – gotta have the bump,” Alice laughed as they bent their knees and bumped harder until Peter’s door opened wide, and he and Jack stepped out into the hall just in time to see the tail end of their performance.

  “So I gather you’ll both be there tonight?” Jack asked.

  “Wouldn’t miss it!” Alice’s words rolled out with her laughter. “You coming, Jack?”

  “Yeah, Giselle invited me. Sounds like fun.”

  “So, Miss McGillicutty,” Peter said, amused skepticism in his tone and flickering on the corners of his mouth, “you enjoy this eighties music.”

  Alice flared her eyes at him in challenge. “Sure, why not? Eighties music is awesome. I might even dress up like Madonna.”

  He tilted his head and arched his eyebrow. “With a cone bra?”

  “No, that’s nineties Madonna. I’m talking about eighties Madonna, with the lace gloves and rosaries.”

  “I think Madonna is in her eighties by now.”

  “It’s just for fun. I guess you wouldn’t understand.”

  Jack glanced at his watch then tapped Peter on the shoulder. “We need to go if we’re going to pick up Winnie.”

  “Yes,” Alice said. “You wouldn’t want to keep Winnie waiting. I’ll see you tonight, Jack,” she called out over Peter’s shoulder.

  “I’ll see you there as well,” Peter said before turning to go, and a chill rushed over Alice. Then Peter looked back at Eileen. “Oh, and, by the way, it’s ‘We Need the Funk’ – not bump – and it’s from the seventies, not eighties.” Then he walked away, with Alice stunned, speechless, and frozen in place.