Georgie sucked in a breath. “That was Lizzy’s sister with the obnoxious mom going on about her daughter snagging a rich guy at Charley’s party?” Georgie’s eyes darted to Liz, who was blushing fiercely and biting her lip. “Sorry, I guess that makes her your mom, too.” Georgie grimaced. “Charley does have a tendency to pick some real lulus, but I’m sure your sister is nice. Not like the others that Will has had to help peel off Charley since college.”
Liz sat tall in the chair as she stared down at the Athleta catalog on the coffee table. His sister’s chair rocked back and forth with the nervous movements of her hands on the wheels. Silence held for the length of several breaths.
Liz’s gaze rose to meet his, and she spoke with deliberation. “I do get that you were just being protective of your friend. I had no idea you encountered my mother at Charley’s party. I was away on a writing assignment so was unable to attend. My mom can be—well, she wants to see us all well settled and can let that single-mindedness cause her to come on too strong.”
Darcy was floored by her gentle voice and agreeable words. She had been so angry at him back in San Diego. And after Fitz had reamed him out, he was angry at himself.
“No, I interfered without all the facts.”
Liz nodded and looked aside. The corner of her lip started to curl. “Did you know they’re seeing each other again? Charley asked for a do-over and Jane said they could take it slow and see what happens. Jane’s not a gold-digger. She’s not. She’s the sweetest, gentlest, and kindest person you could ever meet, and I do not say that because she is my sister.”
Darcy smiled at her smugness. He didn’t blame her for wanting to rub his face in it after he hurt her sister.
Liz’s throaty laugh tumbled out. “You interfered again? Did you tell Charley to try again with Jane?”
“I learned my lesson the first time. So, no, I didn’t tell him to do anything. I asked him if he still had feelings for Jane and then let him know that she was still single. Charley acted on his own.”
Liz’s cell phone beeped, and it broke the moment. She glanced at the clock. “I really do need to be going.”
“See you tomorrow night then?” Georgie asked.
Liz looked over at Darcy before responding. “If you’d like.”
“What’s tomorrow night?” He rose and walked her to the door.
“Lizzy is coming over and we’re watching the game. I invited this whole end of the floor.”
“Great! The team needs all the support we can get. It’s a tough match up.”
“Who’s pitching tomorrow?” Georgie asked.
“Denny’s going up against Easton.”
“Denny is a hottie.” Georgie looked at him impishly through her long eye lashes.
Liz laughed when Darcy shook his finger in warning.
“I’ll walk you down. I’ll be right back, George. Behave!”
His sister muttered, “Bossy” to his back as he left with Liz.
* * *
They said nothing until they were in the elevator. Darcy leaned against the side of the elevator and enjoyed watching Liz sneak looks at him. He didn’t bother hiding his interest.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly.
He stood up straight at that. “For what? You’ve been a great friend to my sister. I’m glad and should be thanking you.”
“She and Margaret are my heroes. They are amazing women, just like so many others who’ve adjusted to life with a disability. I love spending time with them.” Liz’s smile dimmed. “But that wasn’t what I meant. I’m sorry for losing my temper and for the way I treated you back in July. I am so ashamed because I never go off like that on people. I pride myself on being collected even when I’m angry. But with you, I just lost it. I can see I misjudged you. I guess if the roles were reversed, I might have questioned Jane about seeing Charley, too. You must despise me.”
“No, you gave me a wake-up call. I was sure that I merely had to smile and crook my finger for you to go out with me. That was arrogant, just as you said.”
She shrugged, not verbalizing her agreement. “But Gabe Wickham . . . ”
Darcy felt her eyes bore into him. He heard her unspoken question. The elevator door opened and they stepped out. Dare I trust her with the whole truth? Is it my place to explain?
He could set her straight about his role in Wickham’s career. He longed for her to know the other part—Georgie’s story. Darcy guided her away from the main flow of people in the lobby. “What are your plans in the morning?” He grimaced at his abruptness. “That is, I would like to share a story with you, though it’s not really mine to tell. I’ll have to ask if I can reveal the truth.”
Her big, golden eyes narrowed but she said, “Okay, I can understand that. I am free in the morning.”
Darcy swallowed nervously. “Would you like to meet me for breakfast then? Say eight o’clock?”
Liz pulled out her phone. “Sounds good. Where?”
“Daily Bread at the corner of A Street and Watchtower.”
Her eyes lit up. “I love that place. They have the best French toast.” Darcy grinned, delighted she too loved the place.
Liz stared at his lips, then she shook her head.
“Right! Daily Bread. Eight o’clock. Better give me your number in case something comes up.” He held his breath thinking she would refuse, until she gently took his phone and typed in her information. She sent herself a message from his phone and hers chimed.
“There. Now I need to scoot. I have dinner with Jane. Then I need to work a little on my story for tomorrow before I can get my beauty sleep. And this girl needs her beauty sleep.”
“No, you don’t.” But she was already turning toward the doors. “I’ll Uber you a car.”
“That’s really not necessary. A cab’s right here,” she said as she stepped out into the chill autumn breeze and raised her arm to an approaching taxi. Liz tucked some hair back over her shoulder and looked up with a smile. “Georgie is excited to spend time with you. In fact, it was her love of you and all the childhood pictures she showed me—okay and the way everyone on the floor speaks of you—that made me realize that I had you all wrong.”
Darcy waved the remarks off before shoving his hands down in his jeans’ pockets. “You didn’t have me all wrong.”
“But I did. I never guessed how reticent you are. I thought you were a snob. And I never considered that you might have other reasons for being less than forthcoming. I just assumed Bill Collins was right, and you had some sordid scandal that would muddy your Dandy image.”
Darcy winced.
And Liz caught it. “Own it, Dandy. Every top hat seller and costume shop in New York loves you for it. And the franchise must absolutely go ape over the merchandise sales from those top hats and bow ties with the team logo on them. And the Dandy Darcy bobblehead giveaway night was a vast success.”
He struggled not to roll his eyes as he watched her slip into the taxi. Liz didn’t need to know that he had taken great delight in accepting his very own Dandy bobblehead.
Darcy held the door for Liz and leaned in to say goodbye. Her warm smile kept him standing on the curb until long after her taxi pulled out of sight. A horn made him startle and remember where he was.
* * *
During dinner, Darcy broached the subject with Georgie about telling Liz more about Wickham.
“I don’t want to tell her, Wills.”
“Okay, then we won’t.”
“No, you misunderstand. I don’t want to be the one to tell her, but I would like her to know. I don’t want to see her reaction to how stupid I was, okay? She knows I was injured in a car accident, but I want her to know it all. No secrets from my friend—if she still wants to be my friend.”
“You weren’t stupid. You were sixteen. You made a sixteen-year-old girl mistake. Everyone screws up, and you didn’t expect a sexual predator at a teen party. Who would have suspected a professional athlete? And you have nothing to fear. Liz will stil
l be your friend. I know she will place the blame precisely where it belongs.”
Georgie toyed with the drawstring on the hood of her sweatshirt. “Will, you like Lizzy, don’t you? And I don’t mean as my friend. I can tell that you’re into her.”
“Yes. I really like your Lizzy.”
“I rather think she’s your Lizzy. She’s into you, too, you know. I’ve caught her staring at our portrait on the wall over there and my photos on the shelf. I asked her if she thought you were good-looking and she blushed and nodded. I thought she would be a nice girl for you so I got out my photo albums and scrapbooks and—”
“George!” She giggled. “You were planning to set me up?”
“Well, obviously, you needed some help with that. You struck out the first time.”
Yep, I’d definitely struck out.
“Telling her about Gabe Wickham will help, and today I thought you made a good impression. But we can’t rest on our laurels. Now, what are you going to wear to your breakfast date? And for heaven’s sake, get some coffee in you before you go so you don’t grunt and snarl like you usually do in the mornings.”
“Yes, George.”
“Don’t be like that.” She grinned at his sour expression.
* * *
Wearing the blue-gray cashmere pullover Georgie insisted he wear, Darcy looked across the table at Liz. She looked lush in a smart charcoal gray suit and pink blouse—the top two buttons opened to her beguiling cleavage. He wondered what it would be like to loosen her hair from its bun and let it fall down around her shoulders. An eyebrow raised up at him from behind her black framed glasses. He smiled at the thought of Liz as the naughty teacher.
“Darcy? Will?” Her sharp voice cut away, and she looked at him and then the waitress. “What are you having?”
He straightened and cleared his throat. “The special, please. And a large water with lemon.”
Liz, resting her chin in her palm and leaning comfortably towards him, grinned. “Georgie warned me that you were not a morning person. I was expecting cranky, not spacey.”
“And I suppose, you’re little miss rise with the sun, full of smiles and song?”
“Not if I can help it, but I do get up to feed Jane’s cat. The beast waits until after Jane’s left at zero dark thirty for her bakery to bug me for food. We were relieved to discover that Murphy likes Charley. He tolerates me but hates my dad, mom, and Lydia.”
“I presume Murphy is the cat. Who’s Lydia?”
“My younger sister. She’s a loud, obnoxious seventeen-year-old going on thirty, so I don’t blame Murph. They don’t come over often, since our tiny, fourth floor walk-up makes mom claustrophobic—which sets off her nerves. So, Jane and I go to them.”
A young boy approached their booth. He looked partly nervous and partly excited, based on the way he was biting his lip and looking back at his dad.
“May I—um, may I get a picture of you, Mr. Darcy? Uh, please?” The boy stumbled over his rushed words as he held up a phone.
Darcy smiled. “Sure, but let’s get one together, okay?”
The boy’s eyes grew large, and he nodded vigorously before turning to give his dad a thumbs-up.
Darcy said to Liz, “Would you mind?”
“Of course not. Why don’t the pair of you stay right there. Yes, like that. Say ‘Dandy!’”
The boy giggled, and Darcy grinned at Lizzy’s smirking lips. The picture taken, Darcy grabbed a paper napkin and borrowed a pen from Liz. Asking the boy’s name, he signed a quick “For Justin,” who then thanked him and ran back to his dad. Liz murmured something about being “so sweet,” and he felt a spark zing through him as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. She removed it when the waitress delivered their breakfast. He still felt her brief touch and glowed in her approval.
Darcy appreciated that Liz had an appetite. She ordered the French toast, and based on how rapidly it all vanished, it must have been delicious. He hated when girls simpered and moved food around on their plate, rarely taking a bite. Closing her eyes as she swallowed her last bite, she licked her lips and exhaled her satisfaction. Darcy licked his lips, too, thinking he had never been so turned on by French toast.
He cleared his throat and leaned back in the booth. “I—I have decided to tell you about Wickham, not just his involvement with me, but with someone very dear to me. I trust that I can depend on your discretion?”
Without hesitation, Liz said, “Yes, of course.”
Darcy started by explaining how years ago, he was asked by the coach to mentor Wickham when he was brought up from the minors.
Liz listened in silence, but her lips pressed into a tight line as she was likely hearing quite a different presentation of facts than what Wickham would have strung together in half-truths and implications.
“A few months later, I got a call that Georgie had been in a terrible car accident and she was in surgery. After a red-eye flight across country, I still didn’t know if she would survive or not. I was decimating an empty Styrofoam coffee cup when the surgeon sat down with me in the waiting room and explained that she wouldn’t walk again. I’ll never forget Dr. Gardiner as he said, ‘She’s a miracle girl and a fighter.’
“After Dr. Gardiner left me, a detective and her partner sat down. The police had investigated, initially believing Georgie had been driving while intoxicated. Her blood tests revealed some alcohol in her system. Further analysis showed a strong dose of GHB. They had a suspect in for questioning. Witnesses from the party placed a guy at the scene, who supposedly had latched on to Georgie. Maria, Georgie’s boarding school friend, said that the guy had overheard some other girls at the party mention that Georgie was my sister, and that’s when she thought the guy started hitting on her. Even cast about he was a ball player who was friends with me. She said Georgie seemed to like him at first but then was uncomfortable with some of his forward behavior and said she had to go home. The guy didn’t take the hint, so Maria and some others distracted him while Georgie slipped away in another friend’s car. The other girls were used to protecting Georgie from people trying to get in good with her because I’m a pro baseball player. Unfortunately, none of them suspected at the time that this guy must have slipped something into Georgie’s drink.”
Darcy gulped down some water. “Detective Forrester showed me a picture of the suspect. Through dawning horror, I recognized Wickham. I asked if he was the one—the one who gave her the drug. But they couldn’t confirm anything. That red haze people describe when they are so furious they can’t speak or think, it’s real. Finally, I pulled myself together enough to explain about our history with the man in the picture.
“Turned out Wickham had a good lawyer who got him off because no one could prove he put in the GHB. So, he was free to go on stalking underage girls.
“The detective was disgusted and promised she would nail that scumwad to the wall. The team traded him but I still had him watched. But as time went on, I stopped the surveillance. I had to focus on Georgie.
“Georgie told me she took full blame and said that this was on her. She admitted she had snuck out to go to the party, she chose to drink, and she chose to be flattered by a handsome, successful guy, and accepted a drink from a stranger. I wanted to kill him, but rants of revenge and murder weren’t helpful. She needed to heal and move on, so we didn’t really talk about it again for three years.” Darcy’s hands shook, but his voice had been nearly clinical as he told the story. Does she believe me?
“And that’s my dealings with Gabe Wickham.”
Liz shook her head, tossing down a shredded napkin, and her eyes brimmed with tears. “How can you ever forgive me? I attacked you and trusted a man who could have raped your sister. A guy indirectly or directly responsible, it doesn’t matter which, for her injuries and situation. I’m a journalist, and I never once stopped to verify facts. You bruised my ego when you insulted journalists. And that had me ripe to believe anything about you.” Her head went down, and she cov
ered her face. Darcy hated seeing any woman cry, particularly Liz. He moved around the table so he could hold her. Her body shook and she whimpered, “I’m sorry,” over and over.
“Don’t.” His voice was like a caress as he cradled her body against him. “Georgie is constantly reminding me that I’m not to blame. You aren’t either. Wickham’s very convincing. I believed him the first time he gave me some sob story, and I handed over two thousand dollars that I never saw again. I wouldn’t be surprised that when he left the team, he owed several thousand dollars between us all.”
“You’re trying to make me feel better.” She rifled through her bag.
“And is it working?”
“A little,” she said with a wobbly smile as she dabbed her eyes with a tissue. “I need to get going, but I want you to know that I will never reveal this to a soul. Georgie is the bravest, sweetest girl, and I’m glad we are friends. Will you see her before your game?”
“Yes, I’m going there next. She wants to know about breakfast together.”
“Tell her not to worry and that I will be along tonight.” She squeezed his hand that was around her shoulder. “Thank you. I know that wasn’t easy, and I’ve given you no reason to think I would treat Georgie’s story with care, but I’m glad you told me. I had to know the extent of my own folly.” Liz spotted the gift bag he had knocked over in his scramble to sit beside her. “It’s not Georgie’s birthday . . . ?”
“No. A guy on her floor, John, has a birthday. Georgie and I are taking him cake and ice cream. He likes baseball, and Carreaga is his favorite player, so I got him to autograph a few things last night. He loves to do things for kids. Great guy.”
“That is so kind. I know John. He is quiet. You’re a great guy too, you know.”
The way her eyelids lowered when she said that last part left him with the strongest desire to pull her closer and explore those delectable lips. It didn’t help his self-control that she was already staring at his lips. A busboy dropped a plate, and it shattered the moment.
The Darcy Monologues: A romance anthology of Pride and Prejudice short stories in Mr. Darcy's own words Page 45