Erin’s fright was gone now, but she was still fraught with nerves. “I want you. Now.”
As if she expected her to say this, Darcy, without replying, turned and led Erin upstairs to her bedroom.
* * *
It was hard to hide what she and Darcy were doing together. Even the first time, Erin almost had to admit to Jen what had happened. She was so late getting back to the brewery that both Jen and Javier, the assistant brewer, were worried. They’d left countless messages on her phone, and she had no real excuse why she hadn’t answered for hours. It didn’t help that she was never late to work, and it definitely didn’t help that she was so flustered and shaken she could hardly talk coherently. Luckily, just after she came through the door, claiming that she’d ridden too far north to get back in time, the phone rang, drawing Jen away and distracting her. Then another assistant came to tell them a transfer line had burst, and Javier left, cursing their old equipment.
She and Darcy started meeting almost every day. They varied the times and the places—one day at Darcy and Charlie’s place, one day at Erin and Jen’s, and once in Darcy’s car when they couldn’t arrange for a private tryst at someone’s home. Erin had long since stopped her morning visits to the gym, mainly to avoid Lottie, so they usually met in the morning. They’d almost been caught several times, once by Jen and several times by Charlie, but so far neither Jen nor Charlie seemed to have cottoned to the fact that they were having what amounted to a sordid affair.
And that’s precisely what it is, Erin thought: sordid. Nothing they were doing was above board. She and Darcy hardly talked about it except to plan the next time. The idea of telling anyone else about the affair was absurd.
The sex itself was almost angry in its intensity, always wordless and desperate. Usually by the time she saw Darcy, Erin was so worked up and her hands were shaking so much, she could barely unbutton her own clothes. They had ripped several of her shirts in their haste. A couple of times, she’d had to go home to get something new to wear, her clothes ruined. A similar number of times, she’d had to borrow Jen’s makeup to cover up love marks on her neck and shoulders from Darcy’s bites and scratches.
One Saturday they arranged to meet in the afternoon. Again, Javier had taken over the brewery, so Erin had an afternoon off, which was unusual for a weekend. Erin was lying on Darcy’s bed, listening to Darcy shower. They had been spooning on the bed after sex, and Erin had drifted off. She’d awoken a few seconds earlier, confused and surprised to find herself alone. It was unusual for her to fall asleep like that. The affair had shaken up her sleep schedule. Most nights she tossed and turned, knowing she would see Darcy when she got up in the morning. Even on nights when they weren’t meeting the next day, Erin’s sleep was broken and restless. People at work had noticed her distraction and fatigue, but again, so far only she and Darcy seemed to know the cause.
She sat up when Darcy came into the room, pulling a sheet up to cover her nakedness. Darcy was in a silk bathrobe, drying her hair, and when she set the towel on her shoulders, she grinned at Erin.
“I’ve already seen what’s under that sheet, Miss Bennet. You don’t need to hide it from me.”
Erin couldn’t help but blush, and Darcy laughed. Darcy walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, taking Erin’s hand in hers. Erin made herself relax and leaned back into the pillows, looking up into Darcy’s beautiful face.
“This is nice,” Darcy said, rubbing the back of her hand with a thumb.
“What’s nice?”
“Having you here during the day. Almost like a normal couple.”
Erin’s eyebrows shot up. They never talked about what they were to each other or what they were doing. They simply slept together, or at least pretended that’s all they were doing. Sometimes Erin wasn’t so sure it was that simple. Most of their time apart, Erin was fantasizing about Darcy’s body, and when they couldn’t meet, she was almost frantic by the next time they saw each other.
Still, sometimes she longed for something more. They had a good rapport. Darcy seemed to be interested in Erin’s work and she in hers, and they had other things to talk about when they did talk. They could, in fact, be friendly and companionable when they tried. And even if they couldn’t turn into a “normal couple,” Erin was starting to get a little tired of all of this sneaking around. It was exciting and made their desperate couplings seem somewhat dangerous since they could be caught, but Erin wouldn’t mind giving up that part to come out to Jen and Charlie. Perhaps revealing their affair could mean taking a step toward meaning something more to each other than good sex.
For a moment, Darcy’s eyes clouded over with emotion, but she broke eye contact, gazing outside the large bay window.
“When do you have to leave?” she asked.
The swift change in topic startled Erin, but she glanced over at the clock. “In about twenty minutes.” She paused, watching Darcy’s face. Her gaze was still averted, but her expression remained blank. Erin swallowed. “But I could call in.”
Darcy’s eyebrows creased. “Why would you do that?”
Erin’s stomach dropped with dread and pain, but she managed to shake her head. “No reason. Just a thought.”
Darcy still looked confused, and Erin shook her head again to dismiss the topic. A moment later she was sliding out of bed behind Darcy. She excused herself for a quick shower, and when she was alone in the bathroom, she glared into the mirror and shook her head at herself. This was no time for dramatics. After all, what they had was good enough—better than good enough. It was certainly the best sex she’d ever had.
Still, after she’d waved good-bye to Darcy in the kitchen—neither of them saying a word—she couldn’t help but recognize that all of these thoughts and feelings were threatening to ruin what good they got out of each other. Erin apparently wasn’t the only one with thoughts of something else, something more. Darcy had been thinking about being a “normal couple” too, no matter what she said after that. Soon, they would either have to talk about what they were doing and agree to simply have sex a few more times and leave it at that, or decide if they had something else—something more that they could bring into the open.
Chapter Nine
Erin knew something was wrong long before Charlie and Darcy broke the news that they were leaving. She and Jen had been so busy they were quite literally running around for over twelve hours a day. The Denver Post had announced the winners of the festival, and the Loveland Reporter Herald had a full-page spread on their story and success a week or so later. The crowds that started showing up were so intense, both of them had to help out in the taproom for hours every day, rotating with their normal duties. Even then, Erin was often at the brewery long after closing to finish tasks related to her actual work in the brewery, often crawling into bed in the middle of the night. Time off was temporarily canceled for everyone that worked at BSB, including Erin and Jen, but luckily most of their employees responded with good-natured grumbling. Everyone that worked for them knew the extra business could only be a good thing for everyone involved. Even Lydia made an effort the first couple of weeks after the festival, showing up early and staying late.
Erin barely saw Darcy. In fact, she suspected Darcy was doing everything she could to avoid her. They’d had a quick tryst once or twice after the awkward almost-conversation, and then nothing. Darcy’s near disappearance the last couple of weeks was striking and unsettling in a way Erin didn’t want to analyze, but she couldn’t help but dwell on what they’d almost said. Had she given Darcy the wrong impression? Pressured her somehow? It had been awkward, yes, but hadn’t they gotten past that? It was hard not to doubt everything she’d said, even though they’d barely spoken. Further, since she hadn’t told anyone about the affair, she was locked in her own worries.
Still, she knew some of this absence and silence was due to how busy they were. Even Charlie and Jen had problems getting together during the last two weeks. If Charlie couldn’t come by the brewery, Jen wou
ld hardly see him at all. At first, he was there every day for at least an hour or two, generally in the afternoon, when things were a little slower. He’d also stayed at their place a couple of nights, and Jen had stayed at his place perhaps as often. Throughout this period, Erin had seen Darcy twice in passing since she and Charlie shared a car, but they rarely said more than hello, and Darcy’s coldness both times had shut down any further conversation.
Another week passed, and Charlie was absent a couple of days in a row, and Darcy disappeared altogether. Erin had to watch her sister talk to him on the phone, pretending she was okay with it. By the following week, two days without a visit turned into three, and by the week after that, even his phone calls were becoming spotty. Jen was putting on a brave face, but sometimes, when she thought no one was looking, Erin saw Jen simply staring off into space, her expression bleak and worried. Then Charlie showed up again for a couple of hours or spent the night, and everything seemed okay again.
Erin desperately wanted to talk to her sister about what was happening—she was starting to suspect what might come—but by late November, Jen seemed to be in some stage of deep denial. Any time Erin mentioned Charlie, Jen suddenly found something to do and ended the conversation. As for Darcy, with no phone calls and no more visits or meetups, Erin saw no real sign she was even in the same state anymore. Erin had to nurse a growing sense of loss about this all on her own, still wondering if she could have done something to make their affair last a little longer or become something more than an affair.
The Monday before Thanksgiving, Jen, Erin, and Lydia were on their own in the taproom, deep-cleaning the floors a couple of hours before opening. Normally they did this kind of cleaning once a week, usually at night, but with the madness since the festival, they’d only been able to do the usual surface-level cleaning they did every day. All of them were down on their knees, scrubbing the floors with hot, soapy water and scrub brushes, working their way back away from the front doors. Lydia had been bitching all morning, but at this point they were all so tired, all three were quiet.
The knock on the door startled them, and when they looked up, Erin was surprised to see Charlie and Darcy standing outside. The weather had finally turned this week, and both Charlie and Darcy were bundled up, huddled against the cold in their heavy wool coats. Charlie gave a little wave, and Jen leaped to her feet, almost rushing toward him. Erin grabbed her leg.
“Damn it, Jen! Don’t walk on the floor.”
“Oh, right.” Jen motioned Charlie and Darcy toward the back entrance and then went behind the bar to meet them.
“Must be nice,” Lydia said, shaking her head.
“What?” Erin asked.
“It’s not like you’d let me stop and visit with Geo if he showed up.”
Erin sighed and sat back on her feet, resting her knees. Lydia continued to scrub, angrily now, and Erin couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her. Erin rotated her neck a little and then got to her feet, her knees popping with the effort of standing.
“Let’s take a break. We’re almost finished anyway.”
Lydia sighed and met her eyes evenly. “It’s okay, Erin. Go ahead. I’ll finish up here.”
Erin blushed. Lydia saw right through her. She wanted to go talk to Charlie and Darcy as much as Jen did, even if she was annoyed by them showing up like this unannounced.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Lydia shrugged and continued to work, and Erin moved quickly around the bar and down the hall to the back door. When she spotted Jen and the others, she stopped. Charlie and Darcy were standing, stiff as boards, watching Jen cry.
“But why?” Jen moaned. “You told me—”
“I said a lot of things, Jen.” Charlie was near tears himself. “And I’m sorry. If it were up to me…” He shook his head, unable to go on, and turned to Darcy as if in desperation.
Unlike the others, Darcy’s expression was impassive, bored even, and a shiver of something like horror passed through Erin. Darcy didn’t care one bit about what was happening.
“It’s not up to him,” Darcy said. “Not if he wants to keep running his business. We have to get back to Boston today if that’s even going to be a possibility.”
“I thought you said you were leaving in December,” Jen said, sobbing a little.
Charlie took a step toward her, lifting his arms for an embrace, and Darcy reached out to stop him. He looked at her, miserable, and she shook her head, firmly. He dropped his hands to his sides and stepped away from Jen, his face cloudy with pain and sorrow. Jen caught this whole exchange and sobbed even louder, raising her hands to her face.
No longer able to take it, Erin rushed down the hallway and drew Jen into her arms. Jen turned and started sobbing into her neck. Erin stared at Charlie and Darcy, so angry she couldn’t say a word.
“I’m sorry, Jen,” Charlie said. A single tear fell down his cheek. His expression was desperate, as if he hoped Erin could make it all better.
Darcy grabbed his arm. “Come on, Charlie. We have to leave now if we’re going to make our flight.”
He glared at Darcy, his expression almost angry, and then turned to Jen and Erin. Jen was still sobbing into Erin’s shoulder, and this time Erin shook her head.
“Just go,” she said. “You’ve done enough damage as it is.”
The anger in her voice clearly surprised him. “I didn’t mean—”
“I don’t give a goddamn what you meant to do, Charlie. Just get the hell out of here.”
“He’s only doing what he has to,” Darcy said, sounding angry herself.
“Good for him,” Erin said. “Now go do it somewhere else and leave us the hell alone.”
Darcy met her eyes, finally, and for a moment, Erin saw real emotion in them. Instead of the icy coldness she’d been putting on in front of Jen, true pain showed there. She opened her mouth to say something, but Erin shook her head. She didn’t want to hear it.
Charlie and Darcy shared a look. Both of them hesitated, and their gaze met Erin’s. Her stomach dropped at their identical expressions of resolve. A tiny part of her had been hoping Charlie would push Erin out of the way, take Jen in his arms, and never let her go. An even smaller part of her had been hoping Darcy would do the same. Instead, they did just what she’d asked them to.
They left.
* * *
To say that Erin and Jen were not in the mood for Thanksgiving dinner with their father would be an understatement. Erin had only agreed to go to her father’s some weeks ago because she and Jen still hadn’t had an opportunity to talk to him about the loan they wanted. Getting a loan had been a long shot before Charlie left, but now, coupled with Jen’s broken condition, it was likely impossible. Erin had been counting on Jen to make the case for them, for Jen to sweet-talk her father like no one else could, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen now.
Beyond the fact that it was difficult to spend any time with her father, Erin wasn’t in the best frame of mind for the holiday. While what she and Darcy had shared was nothing compared to Jen and Charlie’s romance, Erin was still upset and hurt. They had distinctly avoided talking about romance and feelings with each other, but Erin had, at the very least, expected some kind of good-bye. Further, she was alone in her feelings. No one even suspected that anything had happened between them. As far as Jen knew, Erin still disliked Darcy, and telling her about the brief affair now wouldn’t do her any good. In fact, it might make things worse. She’d been lying for so long. Jen would undoubtedly feel betrayed.
Jen had become a very different person in the three days since Charlie and Darcy had walked out of their lives. After crying almost nonstop for twenty-four hours, she’d finally stopped, as if a faucet was turned off. But, instead of becoming herself again, she’d shut down. Her movements were stiffer, her smile, if it came, false. She appeared beaten down, hollowed, as if emptied of life. She never spoke unless spoken to, and even then, she replied in one-word phrases.
All of this was, of cour
se, understandable, and Erin did her best to be patient with her. But, as they’d scheduled to talk to their father, alone, sometime today, she couldn’t help but wish Jen would pull herself together for a couple of hours. Much more than Jen and Erin’s careers were on the line. While the extra business since the festival had done their bottom line a lot of good, unless they expanded their taproom and brewery soon, they would never be able to meet demand. Already, Erin was worried that they would have to close down for a couple of weeks in late January just so they could catch up. This would mean unpaid leave for all of their taproom counter employees. If this happened, some of them wouldn’t be able to come back. They’d be forced to get new jobs, which would mean hiring new people and more expenses for BSB. She’d even looked into renting space to brew in larger local breweries to meet the demand, but, between rental and transportation fees, so far she’d run into a wall—it was just too expensive.
While she didn’t want Jen to feel the same kind of anxiety she was wrestling with, Erin did long for someone to share her worries. Lottie was still avoiding her, Lydia had stopped coming in regularly again, and Erin didn’t feel comfortable unburdening herself to anyone else. She had some other friends from college and elsewhere that she occasionally saw, but owning a small business meant most of them were distant friends at best. The three days between Darcy and Charlie’s good-bye and Thanksgiving were a personal hell she had to suffer on her own. And now she would have to put up with her father on top of everything else, though “putting up” was stating it mildly. She needed to do some major groveling if she could even think of asking him for money.
Jen was silent on the ride to their father’s house. Most holidays, she went over to his place early to help with dinner, but she hadn’t even suggested doing it this year. Instead, she went where she was told to go, as if she had no will of her own. Erin glanced over at her a couple of times, wondering if it might be better to cancel altogether and claim illness. Jen certainly appeared to be ill. Her rosy cheeks were drained of color, and judging from the circles under her eyes, she hadn’t slept in days. Her hair was greasy and poorly styled, her clothes threadbare and old. Their father wouldn’t like this. He liked for everyone to dress up for dinner, especially on holidays. Erin decided that, scheduled or not, today was not the day to ask their father for money.
Pride and Porters Page 12
