Hiring Mr. Darcy

by Bowman, Valerie

  “How did the next morning go?” I ventured.

  “Pretty much as expected. It was a Saturday. She showed up around ten wearing the same clothes she’d gone to work in the day before. She had told me she was going to happy hour with the team after work.”

  I winced. “She slept with a guy she worked with?”

  “Yep.”

  I gasped. “Not her boss?”

  “No. Just a coworker. She actually thought she loved this guy.”

  I took another long swig of beer. “Please tell me they got married and remain madly in love to this day.”

  He frowned and then laughed a little. “You’re the first person who’s ever said that.”

  “Yeah, well, I figure if you’re going to put another person through a lot of pain, you should at least do them the courtesy of staying together and claiming you’re soulmates. At least that makes it worth it on some sick level.”

  “I always figured she did me a favor by showing me her true colors before we got more serious.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “Were you going to get married?”

  “We’d talked about it a little. Not much, though.” He rubbed his bare foot against the carpet. Of course his foot was beautiful and perfectly proportioned, unlike my hobbity ones.

  “So...are they still together? Your cheating ex and Hitler Moustache?” I had to ask.

  “No.” Jeremy shook his head. “She dumped me, but Hitler refused to leave his wife and kid. They broke up six months later and she tried to crawl back to me.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Wow. What assholes.”

  “My sentiments exactly.” He drank some more beer and lifted his head to look at me. “Now it’s my turn. Truth or dare?”

  “Truth,” I said with a huge grin on my face, taking another chug of beer.

  “Really?” He arched one brow at me.

  “What? Old habits die hard. You didn’t say when I had to take the dare.”

  “Fine.” He expelled a breath. “Do you put on an act on purpose to make people think you’re mean?”

  Whoa. Shit just got real, fast. But the flippant response that sprung to my lips died an instant death. Did I? Did I do that? “Not on purpose,” I said somberly. “Maybe subconsciously, though. I never thought about it until you pointed it out to me that night.”

  “Okay.” Jeremy nodded. He seemed appeased by that answer. “Your turn.”

  “Truth or dare?” I said, still discombobulated by the truth I’d just shared. Maybe a dare wouldn’t be so bad after all. I probably hadn’t played this dumb game since college anyway. Maybe dares were the way to go as an adult. Adult truths were deep.

  “Dare,” Jeremy replied.

  The beer took over my mouth. My mouth, my sense of reason, and all my other thoughts. “Kiss me,” I said. “Give me a kiss so I can be even with Harrison.”

  The look on Jeremy’s face made me instantly regret my words. His features reflected a mixture of surprise and dismay.

  “Really?” he asked. “Are you serious?” The tone of his voice sounded as if he’d do it if I pressed the issue. If the beer hadn’t been talking, I wouldn’t have pressed the issue...probably. But the beer was loud and gregarious.

  “Really,” I said, nodding vigorously.

  “Will you regret it later?” he asked, the look on his face highly skeptical.

  “It’s just a silly game of truth or dare.” I waved my hand in the air and made a pshaw sound. Even I believed I was serious and unaffected. “Are you gonna kiss me or lose, Remington?”

  I immediately shut my mouth and nearly yelped when he set his beer on the nightstand and moved down to the couch bed to sit next to me. He turned to face me and I gulped. I rested my beer bottle in between my thighs and squeezed to keep it steady. Jeremy searched my face as if he was an actor and we were in a movie together and he really wanted to kiss me. I didn’t remember acting being part of truth or dare. I remembered a lot of squealing and trying to get unpleasant things over with quickly. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think Jeremy was taking his time and really setting the scene for a real, live, honest-to-goodness kiss.

  I held my breath as he leaned down, cupped my cheeks in his palms and laid his lips on mine. He sat there without moving for a second, and I was just about to pull away and laugh and thank him when his hot lips slanted across mine and his mouth pushed mine open while his tongue moved inside. Damn. I was being kissed by super-hot Jeremy Remington, and he was good at it. His hands moved down to pull me against him and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, and we kissed like that for what felt like an hour but must have been a few minutes before he pulled away from me. We were both breathing heavily, and I stared at him as if he were a unicorn or a centaur or something.

  I was still struggling with the aftermath—both mental and physical—from that kiss when Jeremy leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Truth or dare? And I’ll go easy on you. You can pick truth if you want.”

  I didn’t know what I wanted to pick after that. My mind was still reeling. Truth or dare? I wanted to say, “Sex!”

  “Truth,” I blurted, only because it was safe and comfortable and I was so woozy with lust and beer, I didn’t know if I could stand up if the dare involved doing so.

  “What did you think of that kiss?” he asked.

  “What did I think of it?” I echoed like an imbecile. I took a deep breath and pulled my beer bottle from between my thighs. “I think it was one for the record books.” Crap. In vino veritas.

  Jeremy’s gaze met mine and held for a moment. I swallowed hard. Yep, Adult Truth or Dare was a dangerous game.

  “Truth or dare?” I nearly shouted because I didn’t want him to ask what I’d meant by ‘one for the record books.’ It was his turn to be put on the spot.

  “Truth,” he replied. His hands moved to the edge of the bed couch and he grasped the mattress. I couldn’t help but wish his hands were still on me. I took another long sip of beer, and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand.

  “How come you remember all that stuff about me from high school?” I asked.

  Surprise registered on his face. Jeremy opened his mouth to reply, then closed it, then opened it again. I was certain he was about to speak, when a knock on the door interrupted him.

  “Meg. I know you’re in there. We need to talk. I don’t want to wait until morning.” Harrison’s voice sounded a little desperate and as if he might have been drinking too.

  A deep scowl on his face, Jeremy pushed himself off the bed and made his way over to the door. He grabbed the knob and pulled it open.

  Harrison tried to push his way past Jeremy, but Jeremy’s hand to the center of his chest made Harrison back up fast.

  “Take it easy,” Jeremy said, eyeing Harrison up and down. He had at least two inches on him even without his shoes on. “It’s up to Meg whether she wants to talk to you.”

  I lifted myself off the couchlet and stood, my beer bottle dangling from my fingers. Whoa. I was drunker than I thought. I swayed a little on my feet. Jeremy must have noticed because he said, “Are you all right?”

  I braced my free hand on the wall beside me. “I’m okay.”

  “Meg, please, talk to me,” Harrison said, his voice more desperate than I’d ever heard it. For some reason my kiss with Jeremy was making me feel guilty, even though it shouldn’t have. I’d witnessed Harrison doing the same thing earlier. But deep down I knew that was no excuse.

  Before I had a chance to reply, Harrison continued, “Since when do you drink beer?” His tone held a note of disgust.

  That wiped my guilt away.

  “Since always,” I said, holding up the bottle proudly. “I love beer.” I hugged the little bottle to my chest like it was my woobie.

  “You do?” Harrison’s forehead wrinkled into a skeptical frown.

  “Do you want to talk to him privately?” Jeremy asked me, refocusing my attention to the matter at hand. “I can leave.”

  “Yes, p
lease leave, you Neanderthal,” Harrison sniped.

  Harrison was definitely drunk too. I’d only seen him drunk one other time, at the history department holiday party last year when Dr. Holmes had talked him into drinking brandy. Harrison had had a lot to say about just about every one of our colleagues on the walk home and none of it particularly nice. I’d been a little shocked and a lot amused.

  But drunk or not, I refused to allow him to be mean to Jeremy. I pulled my hand from the wall and placed it on my spinning head. “He’s not a Neanderthal,” I insisted. “And you’re being rude.”

  Harrison took a deep breath. “I just want to talk to you, Meg. Privately.”

  I glanced at Jeremy. He looked like he wanted to punch Harrison, but I knew he’d leave if I asked him to. “No,” I said, lifting my chin. “I’m not in the state of mind to talk to you tonight, Harrison. You’re just going to have to wait.”

  It was a night of truth, after all, and that was as truthful as I’d ever been. I was drunk and I was confused by Jeremy’s kiss. Talking to Harrison would be a superbly bad idea, and thank God I was still sober enough to at least recognize that.

  “You heard the lady,” Jeremy said to Harrison with a smug smile perched on his face. “Now, leave before I go Neanderthal on you and kick your ass, you douchebag.”

  Harrison’s eyes narrowed on Jeremy’s face. “Threats of violence? You just proved my point about you being a Neanderthal.”

  “And you just proved my point about you being a douchebag,” Jeremy said. “I wasn’t kidding about kicking your ass.”

  Harrison spun around and strode away down the hallway, mumbling under his breath.

  Jeremy shut the door and turned to face me. “You okay?”

  I was still blinking, surprised over the exchange I’d just witnessed. “I’ve never heard him raise his voice.”

  “Yeah, he seemed pretty pissed.” Jeremy’s grin widened. “I don’t think he likes us rooming together.”

  I pointed a drunken finger in the air. “Well, he shoulda thought of that before he made out with Lacey Lewis.”

  “Agreed.” Jeremy nodded.

  “Thank you for making him leave,” I said, afraid my voice was turning sad.

  “My pleasure,” Jeremy replied in his best English accent, bowing. “Anything for you, my dear Miss Bennet.” He came back over to the bed and sat facing me again.

  I lowered myself to the couch and placed my palm on Jeremy’s cheek. “You’re great, you know that?”

  “Am I?” His voice was warm. His green gaze held mine.

  “Yes, you’re a great friend and a really good kisser, too.” I patted his rough cheek.

  And with that pronouncement, I fell backward onto my tiny couch/bed and passed out.

  Chapter 24

  Saturday

  The next morning, I woke up with a splitting headache. I was alone in the room and sunlight poured in the window, mocking me for my indiscretions last night. Plus, I was pretty sure I’d snored.

  It was acting day. I’d deserve a frickin’ Oscar if I could pretend I didn’t give a damn about what I’d seen last night between Harrison and Lacey.

  Harrison sent a note asking me to meet him for breakfast. I ignored it and ordered a pot of coffee and some scones to be brought to the room. I gnawed on the scones and halfheartedly sipped the coffee while I contemplated both what Harrison had done with Lacey and what I had done with Jeremy. Which of course was only one little truth-or-dare kiss (with tongue), but I still felt like crap for it. Cheating was cheating, and I hadn’t officially ended things with Harrison. I was still mulling over both events, along with the testosterone-charged exchange between Harrison and Jeremy last night, when Harrison knocked on the door, startling me and making me drop my scone into my lap.

  “Meg, are you in there? We need to talk.”

  I scooped up the scone and took a big bite, chewing and swallowing without saying a word. I fully intended to pretend I wasn’t there. It was petty of me, but at the moment I wanted to be petty. Petty was my middle name.

  Eventually Harrison stopped knocking and wandered off down the hall. I could hear his footsteps receding. I got up and dressed in the least fancy of my gowns. The really grand one would be saved for the ball the next night. The focus today was on the lines and the acting, not the clothing. Lady Waverly-Jones was one of the judges today. Would she be swayed by Lacey Lewis’s fame? Would Lady W-J give Lacey a higher score because of it? Damn Lacey and her stupid TV show. I knew my lines, but I also was alternating between wanting to throw up and wanting to cry, both of which were equally awful alternatives, as far as I was concerned.

  Once I was dressed in my white day dress with eyelets, an empire-waist, matching white slippers, and a reticule, I hurried downstairs in search of Jeremy. I found him quietly reciting his lines to himself in a corner of the parlor. I glanced around nervously. Thankfully, Lacey and Harrison were nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t take a confrontation with either one of them right now. I needed to concentrate on my scene. Plus, if I saw Lacey Lewis, I just might scratch out her eyes, which would ruin my gloves.

  “Hi,” I said to Jeremy, giving him a slight wave and a nervous smile. Butterflies were causing a ruckus in my belly. I’d kissed him last night. It was all I could think about. All the moments I’d spent with him prior to that, perfectly fine, unembarrassing moments, escaped my brain and left me with only the memory of our hot kiss last night and the feel of his hands on my cheeks and the tenderness with which he’d touched me. I’d kissed him. I’d dared him to kiss me. It was totally inappropriate. Plus, I’d been drunk and said a lot of dumb stuff like calling him hot.

  But why had he kissed me? Yes, he was fulfilling my idiotic dare, but he could have refused. Had he truly wanted to help me pay back Harrison for kissing Lacey? Besides, Harrison would never know we kissed unless I told him, so it wasn’t much of a payback anyway. Of course, I would have to tell Harrison eventually because...guilt—but oh, obsessing over this wasn’t helping.

  “Good morning, Meg,” Jeremy said. He looked spectacular as usual. Today, in addition to his black boots, he wore another pair of skin-tight breeches, a sapphire waistcoat and a matching overcoat with a perfectly white shirt and expertly tied cravat. His top hat was sitting on the table next to the copy of Pride and Prejudice I’d loaned him.

  “Hi,” I repeated, rubbing my slipper against the floor and not meeting his eyes. God. I hadn’t been shy since I was a kid. A giggle was lodged in my throat. A freakin’ giggle. Meanwhile, Jeremy probably didn’t even remember we’d kissed last night, or if he did, he didn’t give it a second thought. But here I was, obsessing about it like an idiot. A teenaged idiot.

  “How are you feeling today?” he asked, eyeing me carefully as if I might puke on him any minute.

  “Pretty crappy,” I admitted with a sigh, “for more than one reason.”

  “I got you some Advil and a bottle of water.” He pointed to the pills and the water sitting on the table beside his hat. I hadn’t noticed them before.

  “That was really nice of you,” I murmured, moving over to the table to scoop up the pills and open the bottle of water.

  “I’m sorry about last night,” he said.

  I gulped down the pills and nearly choked. I chugged some water before turning around. “What you do you have to be sorry about? I’m the one who dared you to kiss me.”

  “No, not that,” he said with a boyishly handsome smile on his face that made me want to kiss him all over again. “I’m not sorry about that.”

  “Oh.” My mouth remained opened in a circle. My eyes were wide.

  “I meant I’m sorry you had such a bad night...because of what Harrison did.”

  I nodded slowly. If only two wrongs made a right. “Well, I’m sorry I made you kiss me. It was completely unprofessional of me. I’m your employer while we’re here, and—”

  “I’m not sorry. It was fun.” He winked at me.

  Fun? Fun? Wait. Was it fun? I’d
spent so much time obsessing about it, I’d failed to notice whether it was fun. “It was fun?” I echoed.

  “Yeah, I mean, didn’t you think so?” he asked in such a vulnerable voice, I wanted to hug him.

  “It was fun,” I answered, biting my lip. Too much fun.

  “Next time, hopefully it won’t be for revenge,” he said.

  Next time? Next time? I opened my mouth to reply, but no words came out. Thankfully, Patsy and her Bloody Mary sauntered into the room, saving me from what was sure to be an inept response.

  “Dr. Macomb and his light o’ love are coming this way,” she whispered.

  I had to smirk at the term ‘light o’ love.’ I might have used the word ‘harlot.’ But either worked.

  “Thanks for the heads-up,” Jeremy whispered back before grabbing his hat and whisking me out the nearby back door into the fresh, cool morning air.

  When we got outside, he turned to me and smiled. “I asked Patsy to keep an eye out. Figured you might still want to avoid him.”

  “Thanks,” I replied. “I know I’m being childish. I plan to talk to him, of course, but not until after we compete today.”

  Jeremy nodded. “Sounds smart. Want to practice?”

  “Absolutely.” I gave him a bright smile.

  We ran through the entire scene. I recited it all woodenly, but I promised myself I’d do better later. I just wanted to make sure the trauma of seeing Harrison kissing Lacey hadn’t damaged my crappy memory further. At one point, Jeremy had to feed me a line, which caused me to panic, but the moment he whispered it to me, I jumped on it and managed to remember all the rest of the scene. I forced myself to take three deep breaths.

  “Ready?” Jeremy asked after we finished.

  “As I’ll ever be,” I replied, pressing a gloved hand to my middle. At least my potbelly wasn’t swelling today. Skipping dinner last night had been good for something. Despite the beers, I might have actually even lost a pound per the half-ass diet.

  “Let’s go watch the others.” Jeremy offered me his hand.

  We were scheduled to go last in this particular competition, which meant we could sneak into the back of the audience and watch the couples ahead of us. The first few did a fine job, especially Marianne and Elinor, who acted out a sisterly scene from Sense and Sensibility, the one in which Elinor exhorts Marianne to use more sense in her dealings with Willoughby. I’d always loved that scene. It made me want to be an older sister.