Pride and Papercuts: Inspired by Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice

by Staci Hart

  Though I had no proof, I still suspected Catherine. It made the most sense, and though I’d occasionally been known to be wrong, it was rare. Speaking to Darcy about it would have gone nowhere, even before last night. And I’d thought to discuss it with Georgie, but she’d avoided me all week, and when we did speak, it was a tiptoeing, superficial thing, working hard to dodge the subject of my brother. I couldn’t upset her worse by accusing her aunt of interfering with us, especially because I doubted any good would come from it. Georgie had just as much of a chance at stopping Catherine de Bourgh as I did of flipping a car over.

  Of course, if Darcy was present and his mouth was moving, flipping a car might not be out of the question.

  The best thing any of us could do was try to offset Catherine’s interference while Marcus tried to dig up some evidence as to her involvement. She was sneaky, though—the headhunting always came from a different company and none affiliated with her. But if we could find some proof, we could potentially intervene with legal action, but so far, we’d turned up nothing. Through the course of the week, we’d hired ten new people, and so far, three had started without losing anyone yet. We’d had to outbid other companies several times, but we’d retained our new hires with the promise of money and perks. Worth every penny, as far as we were concerned.

  Whatever this was, it wouldn’t ruin us.

  But we were still in the lurch left by our diminished staff and the new employees who weren’t yet fully trained. So us Bennets had to pick up the slack. Wasted Words gave Jett and me freedom to work at Longbourne—my job could be handled remotely, and Jett’s was easily covered. So he’d thrown himself into the masses of paperwork, bookkeeping, and account management that had piled up, and I’d jumped into our halted advertising and marketing. Now that I was through with De Bourgh, I could really make some headway.

  Wyatt had texted me several times since I’d seen him last, but I’d been hesitant to respond. Today, I’d ignored him completely when he let me know he was on his way back, looking to secure a time to see each other. But my life was more complicated that Saturday morning than ever, and Wyatt was only good for more chaos.

  I didn’t have long until my solitude ended, but the last thing I wanted to talk about was what’d happened last night. How could I admit it aloud? How could I explain how I’d been so foolish as to give in to my desire, knowing he would only hurt me? And how would I ever forget the way it felt to be his for a moment, how the memory of his touch still kissed my flesh, the press of an aching bruise? How would I ever deny how absolutely right he felt before he erased me completely?

  It was impossible. But Jett was about to walk through the door, and there would be no avoiding some level of admission. He’d been at Wasted Words for a hero-villain mixer when I got home, and when he came home, I made sure to appear asleep in my room. This morning, I’d gotten out of bed with the sun and left before he was awake. But I’d avoided telling him for as long as I could. It’d been hard enough keeping it from Jett this long. He was the human equivalent of my diary, but when it came to the matter of Darcy, I couldn’t seem to tell him everything. Not the complete truth of it. Not the fact that part of me wanted Liam. Or that so much of my fury was because I wanted him to want me too, even though he found new and painful ways to cut me over and again. Worse—I’d kept going back for more.

  But last night was the final straw.

  I was through being hurt by him. Murderous rage was exhausting, and I was officially tapped.

  And that was where half my mind was as I worked on scheduling social media posts and checking our social ads, updating my calendar to set meetings with our larger advertising contacts and to gather a team to create some fresh content. A new campaign brewed in the back of my mind, and I let it roll around there like churning ice cream, making itself into something delicious. Next week, once it solidified, I’d get a schedule together for it, see if I could plan out a few months of marketing with a fresh look. That way, when we had a team in place again, I could just pass it off to them and get back to my life.

  With a gentle nudging of my heart, it occurred to me that being here, working for Longbourne, felt good. As much as I loved the bookstore, I knew my family business better than anyone who had touched their marketing since I’d left. This was where I felt at home, where work felt easy. Where I could use all that I’d learned for the sake of my family. It was the joining of my two worlds, and I wondered why I’d never truly considered it before.

  But at the beginnings of imagining, I shook the thought away. At the thought of flipping my life in the direction I’d avoided for so long had me slamming the shutters closed so I couldn’t look out upon that possibility. Not now, at least.

  Not yet.

  I was so deep in my calendar that I didn’t see Jett until he set a white paper bag and a cup of coffee stamped with the name Blanche’s on my desk. My taste buds exploded in anticipation.

  “Oh my God, you brought me Blanche’s,” I stated the obvious, tearing into the bag to find a beignet, a Cronut, and a lemon-cream filled donut.

  “I didn’t know which you’d want, so I got all three.”

  “I want all three, so you did good.”

  He chuckled, pulling up a chair to watch me tear into the beignet. His deep blue eyes were a little sad, a little worried.

  “Want to talk about it?”

  “Nope,” I said around a full mouth. “How was the mixer?”

  “Fine. The usual.”

  “Heart wasn’t in it?”

  “Not even a little.”

  I took another bite, chewed, swallowed. Asked, “Talk to Georgie?”

  A small shake of his head, his eyes shifting so he didn’t have to look at me. “I tortured myself long enough. Nothing left to do but move on, right?”

  “And how’s that going for you?”

  “Fucking terrible, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it.”

  My face fell when I saw the truth of the words in his eyes. “I hate this.”

  “You and me both. But what can I do about it?” He scrubbed his hand across his lips. “I think I love her, Lane.”

  My throat closed around a lump.

  “But it doesn’t matter. I won’t be the reason she loses her family and legacy—I can’t be. There’s no choice to be made. But time heals all wounds, or something. Right?”

  “I sure as hell hope so.”

  A pause. “So were you working late last night?”

  “Yes.” I didn’t elaborate.

  “Here or at the firm?”

  “I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

  “I know. But I think you should.”

  “Pushy.”

  He shrugged. “Don’t act surprised. We share DNA.”

  I stuffed the end of the beignet in my mouth and dusted off my hands, considering how to approach the topic through a swallow.

  “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Which makes me think you were at the firm, and that whatever’s upset you has to do with Liam.”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “On both counts.”

  His dark brows gathered. “What did he do?”

  I watched him. “You don’t want to know.”

  At that, all of him went dark. “Laney …”

  “He brought me dinner, insulted me, kissed me, and then … I don’t know, Jett. Things got out of hand.” He was so still, I wondered if his heart might have stopped. “It would have been …” I swallowed hard at the memory. “It would have been good. We could have been good, I think. But he’s who he is. He insulted me, and I won’t go back there. I’m through.”

  “I’ll kill him.”

  “Please, if you kill him, do it for yourself. I won’t have you going to jail on account of me.”

  “What the fuck is wrong with him?” Jett spat. “It’s like it’s his personal mission in life to fuck with us.”

  “I’m sure it’s not just us. Georgie gets plenty of it, but for some reason
, she hasn’t disowned him. I want to believe he’s somehow redeemable, but he’s hellbent on proving me wrong.”

  “Like, seriously, Laney. How did he end up … I mean … how?”

  “I don’t even know. One second he’s yelling at me that he acts this way because I drive him crazy, and the next he’s an inch from my nose, daring me to deny that I want him. And then he just … kissed me.”

  Jett swore in a long stream under his breath.

  “It gets worse.”

  “It’d better not get worse,” Jett warned.

  I nibbled my bottom lip. “I wanted more.”

  His face flattened.

  “I know,” I groaned, dropping my face to my hands. “I’m feeling a lot of self-loathing about it.”

  “Please tell me how it’s possible that you could actually want that son of a bitch.”

  “Maybe it’s just because I hate him so much. They say your brain produces the same chemicals for both emotions. Plus, hate-fucking is a thing people do.”

  He cringed.

  “But don’t worry—I’m done. I’ll finish what I have to do with the firm, and then they’re on their own. I already have permission from Cam to not go to their offices anymore. I’ll work at the bookstore and at Longbourne and go to whatever meetings at the firm I’m obligated to be at, but I refuse to work with him. I’m exhausted, and it’s largely his fault. The pain’s not even necessary—I don’t have to deal with him, so why do I keep putting myself through it?”

  “Because I think something is wrong with you and you really do like him.”

  A laugh burst out of me like a flock of sparrows. “I assure you, as of right now, I have never hated anyone more in my life.”

  “Except you let him kiss you.”

  I gave him a look.

  “And you liked it.”

  The look intensified.

  “I’m just saying, maybe you don’t hate him as much as you think.”

  “Are you trying to convince me to sleep with Liam?”

  “I mean, if you want to do it before I beat him to death, I guess I won’t hold it against you.”

  I wadded up the powdered sugary paper and threw it at him. He caught it like an asshole.

  “No, you’re right,” he said. “It’s good that we should just be done with them once and for all. Then maybe we can get back to normal.”

  I tried to smile, but it was a weak, thin imitation. “Yeah, maybe we can.”

  But I had a feeling we’d never have that normal again, no matter how badly we wished for it. And with the horizon hidden behind a thick layer of fog, there was no knowing how long it would be before we found it again.

  26

  Always a But …

  LIAM

  I wasn’t sure when I’d become a walking fuckup.

  Maybe I’d always been this way.

  Of late, I’d made a habit of testing the limits of my relationships, and all of them buckled under the strain. Some broke into shards and slivers so fine, repair was impossible. So sharp, they drew blood, the wounds as angry and red as the day I’d earned them nearly a week ago.

  I’d spent the weekend in a self-imposed prison, not a word spoken to Georgie about the kiss. About the words of admission or the words of anger. About the woman who consumed my every thought, influenced my every action. And why? How? She’d reached into my chest and taken the reins of my heart. I was no longer in control, not even now that it was over with no small sense of finality.

  The thing was, she wasn’t wrong, not about everything. But neither was I. She assumed so much, never asking for the truth. Instead, she took comfort in her imaginings, never questioning whether she was right. It was easy to presume. To believe a charming snake like Wickham over an irritable bear like me. To think that I’d purposely try to ruin others’ happiness just because I could.

  She wasn’t the only one to judge.

  When it came to the matter of Laney, I couldn’t seem to find a way to speak so she’d listen, not until we were both angry. And by that time, it was too late, the damage already done.

  I shouldn’t have led with her family. I should have been soft, told her the truth in my heart—I wanted her, all of her. Her willful mind, her fiery heart. Her body, yes, but only as a way to reach the rest of her. That avenue didn’t need words, which I was woefully empty of. It only needed her lips and mine in silent accord, reaching past our stubborn natures and into the truths of us. For a moment, we’d reached that place, that in-between where we could meet without obstacle, without the barrier of our pride—a trait which we had an abundance of. For that moment, we were perfect. We were equals.

  And then I’d opened my mouth and acted like the monster she believed me to be.

  It was the truth of our circumstance. Choosing a Bennet would be opening fire on Catherine, challenging her idea of safety and security. It would mean sacrificing my place at the company my father and grandfather had helped build. This place, this job, was my life, the sum of my goals, bred in me since infancy. It was my legacy, just as it was Georgie’s—leaving was unthinkable. But I couldn’t walk away from Laney either. I couldn’t deny myself what I wanted, but I couldn’t have it all. Seeing each other in secret was the only chance to be with her without upending my entire life, and I saw my mistake in saying so.

  Because every good thing was followed by a but.

  I want you, but …

  I’ve never felt this way, but …

  I barely know you, but …

  I think I might love you, but …

  Quicksand swallowed me up—the more I fought, the faster I sank.

  When I’d been alone that night, after the kiss, I’d spent hours counting my regrets, picking out moments when I could have made different choices and aching with the loss of those choices. In my pride, I’d smashed the last bit of hope I had with her, written in stone when she kindly informed me that I was the last man she would ever choose for hers.

  I didn’t know how much clearer she could make it.

  Although the time for Laney and me had passed, there were two important matters that needed to be addressed—Wickham and my involvement regarding Georgie and Jett. And since I couldn’t find the right words with my lips, I laid them down with pen to paper where there would be no interruptions.

  Now all I had to do was give it to her and leave.

  Because I was leaving.

  Not forever, though it was tempting. Georgie and I planned a last-minute trip to the cities Wasted Words would expand in under the excuse of getting a flavor for the cities and tweaking our final campaign to meet each location. Caroline would run the team while we were gone, and given that the competition was over today, I suspected we would go back to Laney coming in twice a week for meetings.

  I wanted her here every day. I wanted her to leave—it was the only way I could escape her. Even now, as we sat in the conference room and she gave her presentation, I could barely stand to share space with her for the longing. A beast rolled and roiled in my skin, the desire to do something, anything, alive and hungry. I wanted to explain and to apologize. To yell and to argue. To kiss her and hold her. To tell her the truth.

  I could do none of those things. So I sat in that chair, barely hearing what she said, my fist opening and closing under the table where it rested on my thigh.

  Her final product was genius, just as I’d known it would be. The fill-in-the-blank slogan worked for everything, and her artwork, the palette, it was all not only on-brand for the bookstore, but firmly in the vein of current design trends. She’d taken my suggestions, and I was even more certain she’d win than I’d ever been.

  Add that to the list of things I should have told her.

  The meeting ended with a small speech from Georgie, then Cooper, thanking us for our work. We all stood, the team dispersing, but Georgie waved Laney and me over.

  “Knew you could do it,” Cooper said with a sideways smile, extending his hand for a shake.

  “I’m nothing if not
consistent,” I joked.

  “And how about Laney?” He pulled her into a side hug. “She’s something else, isn’t she?”

  Laney’s lips flattened, her eyes sharp with warning when they met mine. One tick of the clock, and everything about her shifted to defense.

  “She is,” I answered, noting the many ways that was true.

  “How’d you guys get along?”

  Laney answered for us, “Well, we ended up competing with each other just to shut the other one up. So about that well.”

  Cooper appraised her, then glanced at me. “She’s not afraid of you at all, is she?”

  “Not even a little.”

  “Brave,” he noted.

  “I have four brothers his size and with bigger mouths,” she said. “Very little scares me.”

  He chuckled. My chest ached.

  I said nothing.

  “I’m really impressed,” Cooper said. “I’m not sure how we’re ever going to choose.”

  “Then do me a favor and pick mine,” Laney suggested. “Destroying Darcy has become my new personal and professional mission.”

  They all laughed like she was kidding. Maybe she was.

  I supposed she didn’t realize she’d destroyed me already.

  Georgie picked up the conversation, discussing subsequent steps and a meeting we’d have at the end of next week to determine our final direction, not mentioning she and I were leaving. No one knew, not even Caroline, and she’d be taking over. But I wanted to slip out quietly so I didn’t have to answer any questions. Because if they asked, I’d have to lie and say I was leaving for work. And I refused to lie.

  Everyone said their goodbyes, and Laney led the charge out of the conference room as Cooper turned to me for idle conversation. I’d already taken a step to follow Laney.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, “but there’s something I need to take care of. Will you excuse me?”

  “Of course,” he answered with that smile on his face and his eyes bright with whatever he saw in me. “Let’s have lunch, catch up.”