Without Consequence
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Without Consequence
A Modern Retelling of Pride & Prejudice
Michelle Corchis
Copyright © 2020 Michelle Corchis
* * *
All rights reserved.
WITHOUT CONSEQUENCE
Copyright © 2020 Michelle Corchis
Written by: Michelle Corchis
ISBN: 9781775392125
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people living or deceased, places, or events are entirely coincidental or used fictitiously. Names and characters are owned by the author.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document by either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of the publication is strictly prohibited, and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher.
The use of any product and or/song reference is used to enhance the story. Trademarks and copyrights are the property of the owner.
All rights reserved.
Published by: Michelle Corchis, 2020
Cover by: Black Widow Designs
Edited by: Jenny Dillion
Formatting by: Michelle Corchis
DEDICATED TO:
Dedicated to my crazy bestie! We’ve known each other for years, and you’ve still got my back. Thanks, Pam K-H. My sister from another mister, I love you, girl.
My mom, you’re always there for me, and I’ll never be able to tell you how much you mean to me. Forever wouldn’t be enough for me to let you know what a great mom and friend you are to me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Without Consequence
Epilogue
Stalker Links
Just a note
Without Consequence
Chapter 1: Elijah
Chapter 2: Darcy
Chapter 3: Darcy
Chapter 4: Elijah
Chapter 5: Elijah
Chapter 6: Darcy
Chapter 7: Elijah
Chapter 8: Darcy
Epilogue: Darcy/Elijah
Without Consequence
A Modern Retelling of Pride & Prejudice
Darcy Fitzwilliam comes from the Social Elite.
Elijah Bennet doesn’t even like Social Media.
When their worlds quite literally collide, it sets
Off a series of events.
Will they let the fire between the burn
Or
Will they burn each other with the flame?
CHAPTER 1
Elijah
This day started with a bang. First, I lost my car keys, and I looked everywhere. I ripped my place apart, and nothing. So, I called my brother Jon to pick me up, and we went to bid on a job. We ended up in the posh neighborhood of Pemberly Estates, which was mansion alley; when we rang the doorbell, a woman dressed in a maids outfit answered the door.
She showed us to the office where her employer was waiting. “Ah, gentlemen, please come in and have a seat, I’m Joel Fitzwilliam,” he stated. “I want to have the poolhouse refinished into an apartment for my daughter.” Jon and I followed Mr. Fitzwilliam to an outside structure that was bigger than my fifteen hundred square foot home. I whistled under my breath as Jon frowned at me.
“So, you see that it is in dire need of an overhaul, my daughter is a lawyer and needs her space,” he muttered. “You come highly recommended by one of my closest friend’s son, George Wickham.” I took out my digital laser measuring tape and began jotting down the dimensions on the pad of paper I had. He went on to explain how they wanted to open up the kitchen, extend the living room, and have an office added on to the bedroom.
Mr. Fitzwilliam and Jon walked back to the house while I rechecked my measurements. Everything seemed right, and I walked down the hall when I heard a noise. I poked my head into the spacious bedroom, and a woman sauntered out from the ensuite, wearing only a towel. She was stunning, and her perfect legs were long and sleek. My jeans grew tight in the crotch as I thought about having them wrapped around my thighs while I took her hard against the wall. I stepped back to avoid her seeing me, tripping on a pair of her shoes as I tried to regain my balance. No such luck as I fell against the wall and knocked a framed print over that crashed to the floor.
The raven-haired beauty looked up to see what caused the disturbance. When she sees me, she says, “Who are you? You better get out of my house,” she yelled. I watched as she reached behind the door and came out, swinging a bat, which barely missed my head. “Hey, calm down,” I muttered and raised my hands, showing I wasn’t some kind of deviant.
“Don’t you tell me what to do!”
Then it happened, her towel came loose and pooled around her feet. Holy shit, just a glance solidified her measurements were perfect, and you have to trust that assessment, I do this for a living. This Goddess had a flawless body.
“Get out,” she sneered. I bent down and picked up her towel, damn she smelled good, then she cracked me hard on my right hand. “Goddamnit,” I howled and dropped everything on the wood floor. She smashed the bat down again, this time demolishing my gadget. “Hey, that was brand new,” I exclaimed.
“So is my Louisville Slugger!” She shrieked and grabbed her towel, trying to cover up her voluptuous curves.
“Look, I’m here to take measurements for a renovation. Your dad hired my brothers and me to remodel your place, so you don’t need to get all bent. I didn’t mean to scare you, lady. I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”
“Doing your job? Is it your job to measure the walls or me?” She shook her head, went back into her bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
~~~
“What are you so pissy about?” Jon asked as he started the truck. “Jesus, Eli, what the hell crawled up your ass?”
“Don’t we have somewhere to be?” I groaned and raked my hand through my hair, “I kind of ran into Mr. Fitzwilliam’s daughter.”
“Goddamnit, Eli, I hope you didn’t screw up this contract for us,” he muttered.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jon? I’ve done nothing wrong, not entirely my fault, anyway.”
Jon threw the truck into park, “What?”
“Okay, I heard a noise coming from the bedroom and looked to see what it was, I thought I was alone in the house. Then, she walked out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel.” Jon rolled his eyes, shaking his head at me. He was royally pissed and looked as if he was getting ready to rip me a new one. “I didn’t see anything,” I muttered. The words came out more as a safety mechanism, and if I were Jon, I wouldn’t have believed it either.
“Eli, what exactly does that mean, you didn’t see anything?” he asked as his gaze bore into my skull. Jon was the oldest, and I was the second born, so you know how that goes. Oldest is perfect, and the middle kids are screw-ups. “Answer me,” a string of expletives followed, and if our mom were sitting with us, she would’ve lost her shit all over him.
“Yo, language, Jon,” and I think that’s when he went from slightly pissed to outright mad
“Language? Really, what are you, eight? I Don want this contract to get fucked up, Eli!” He stated, stressing each word as he pounded the steering wheel. “You need to get some control of yourself and make sure this kind of thing doesn't ever happen again. Jon raked his fingers through his hair, “Our reputation is on the line, and this is huge for us, brother.” He took a steadying breath, scrubbing his hands down his face. “It’s not only the pool house, but there are also two floors in the highrise Mr. Fitzwilliam owns and where Fitzwilliam, DeBow Law firm is.”
“Jon, I promise nothing has been compromised, okay,” I reached over my shou
lder and pulled down my seatbelt as a twinge settled somewhere inside me. It was her, and I knew, even after saying that nothing would make me mess up this contract, there was no way I’d be able to stay away from her.
“What happened to your digital measuring tape?” He peered over at me, starting his truck and driving down the winding lane to the road. Jon huffed, “Do I even want to know?”
My lack of comment told him everything he needed, and that was a definite yes about him not knowing was best for everyone.
~~~
When we got to the building, Jon parked in the underground lot, and we got out. I pressed the code in for the locked door, and we walked down a long hall until we reached a bank of elevators. The guard on duty looked up, looked at the emblem on our jackets, bowed his head, and told us to go up to the fortieth floor.
I nodded, taking in a lingering scent of perfume as we got on the elevator, and I pushed the floor number, leaning against the left wall. After the fiasco earlier, I wondered what people would be like in this office. Maybe they too would think they were above us and far too good was easy to see that this for the likes of Bennett Brothers Construction.
The door opened onto the fortieth, and we walked over to a woman sitting behind a large oak desk. “We have an appointment,” she gave us a quick assessment and turned to the monitor in front of her.
“Ms. Debow will be with you shortly,” she muttered with a snooty tinge. Bitch. She instructed us to sit in the waiting area, which shared the same space as her overstated desk.
We sat in the large, overstuffed chairs waiting to discuss the project with Ms. Debow. Jon and I waited for ten minutes when the elevator opened and out walked the tantalizing beauty from the pool house.
Perfect. I couldn't stop thinking about her as it was, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see her again so soon. I sunk into the chair, hiding my face behind a magazine.
She said something to the woman behind the desk, they both chuckled. My stomach twisted in knots when she smiled and wondered why I was so affected by her. Her long hair fell flawlessly down her back, and I wanted to know how soft it was, what it smelled like, and if she liked it pulled when her boyfriend took her from behind.
Fuck, that skirt skimmed her ass and accentuated her long legs as she disappeared behind the large wooden doors, leading to the offices.
Jon looked over at me and shook his head, I knew he would lay into me later, but that thought was far from my mind. No matter what was going through his mind, but I stood by my words, I’d never seen another woman with curves as perfect as hers.
Every sway of her hips, every motion jolted me between the legs and made my mouth water.
Sweat trickled through my hair and popped up on my temples, but I wiped the evidence away before it ran free. Christ, this girl was going to be the death of me or, at the very least, give me blue balls for the next few months!
CHAPTER 2
Darcy
As if I needed this, late for work because I overslept. I would’ve been at work already if not for that confrontation with the construction guy. This was a blunder that my Aunt Catherine would hold over my head. When the driver pulled up to the highrise my dad and Aunt owned, I shuddered at the thought of the railing I was going to get. As my unfortunate luck would have it, I was thirty minutes late for the beginning of the workday.
I told Carter that I wouldn't need for him to pick me up after work, and made my halfhearted attempt to walk into the office with confidence. As of today, this marked the third time this week that I was late.
God as my witness, if there were one thing my aunt and direct superior Catherine DeBow, wouldn’t understand was a person who took advantage of their good fortune. Especially if said ‘person’ was me, her niece, and a woman who was working in the male-dominated profession of lawyers. And in saying that, it was an understatement of epic proportions.
The elevator doors opened and zipped me up to the fortieth floor.
~~~
I took the elevator that was for our clients as the door opened, and I walked out into the comfortable waiting area deemed for them. Our firms' elevator was getting a necessary overhaul. While it was overdue, it was a pain to go out of the way to use.
Our waiting area for clients was top-notch. The décor was soothing, as was the music, and there was a full wall water feature. There was a sharp contrast to this area and my associates.
I loosened the constricting buttons of my long sweater, made small talk with the receptionist, and headed to my office. I stopped outside my door to speak with my secretary.
“Any calls,” I asked Lydia.
“No, Ms. Fitzwilliams, but,” her words left hanging in the air as someone grabbed my arm, pulling me into my office.
“Oh my God, Darcy, your Aunt is out for blood this morning,” Charlee, my oldest and dearest friend, huffed. “Didn’t you get any of her calls? I swear she must have called you at least ten times,” she looked at me as her eyes widened, “Where is your phone?”
“Of all days,” I muttered aloud, shaking my head. “I put it on silent last night. My dad is trying to set me up with some corporate mojo, and he kept calling me.”
“Where is she? What is going on this morning? Did I miss something important,” I asked her? I was freaking out, rivulets of sweat trickled from my temples as I went over in my mind what meetings I had for the day.
“Yes, young lady.” Charlee and I froze where we stood because directly in front of us was none other than the Dragon Lady, herself, my Aunt Cathrine.
I grimaced as she addressed Charlee, “Be a dear and fetch us some coffee, please.” My mouth fell open as she began a mild tirade on my friend and co-worker as she stood transfixed in place. “Did I stutter?” her gaze zeroing in on my mild-mannered friend. “Quite frankly, I don’t care, but I would appreciate a cup of coffee, and you can bring it to my office.”
Charlee tilted her head to the right, “Ms. Debow, you do know that I’m a lawyer. We have secretaries that can do that, but I’m not a secretary.”
Catherine smirked, but it didn’t register on her unreadable expression. “Do you like your job, Ms. Bingley? I am quite aware of what your status is within this company.” Her eyes shifted to something that seemed a tad irritated. “What I’m not clear on is why you are still standing here and not getting coffee for Ms. Fitzwilliam and myself.”
Charlee opened her mouth to explain, but I cut her off, “I take mine black, Miss Bingley. Thank you.” I smiled, sending her a silent warning to do as was asked.
We walked into my aunt’s spacious office, which had a breathtaking view of the city. “Sit,” she commanded and took a seat behind her mahogany desk. She clasped her hands together as she pursed her lips. “You have been late for the last three days,” her eyes narrowed on me. “You understand that I can’t have this continue, Darcy,” as a soft knock interrupted us. The door opened, and Charlee walked in with a tray of coffee. She sat it gently on Aunt Catherine’s desk and left without saying a word.
“That girl needs guidance, and if you don’t help her, I’m afraid I’ll have to let her go. She putters around all discombobulated, and it’s making a mockery of this firm,” she confirmed and clucked her tongue.
“I’m sure she’s still trying to find her balance here.” Unfortunately, I made the terrible mistake of rolling my eyes.
“Darcy Fitzwilliam, I will not tolerate this behavior,” she stressed in precise bluntness. “I need this firm to continue to remain on top. You are here because of your drive. Now, I expect you on time from now on, and I will not accept anything else.” Her wrinkled face turned up as I stood, “Remember our meeting, four o’clock, sharp.”
**
Damn, how do I get myself into these messes? If it hadn’t been for that construction guy, I would’ve been on time this morning. I blew out a breath as I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned the ringer on, then walked down the hall to grab a fresh coffee. Charlee’s coffee and I say this with love, was hor
rible.
The staff room was empty, and I reveled in the small victory of not having to look interested with one of my peers as they spoke about their ridiculously happy lives. I set my briefcase on the counter and pulled my mug from the cupboard, and I looked at the flavors of K-cups and decided on a Chai Latte. It sputtered and dripped into the cup I placed under the nozzle, yes, this was going to be a long day.
I sat at one of the tables and took out my planner, studying it to calculate how I could make this day move a bit fast.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” geez, now what.
I raised my eyes from my book and glanced at the person that had interrupted me, “Can I help you,” I asked a pleasingly handsome man. He looked an awful lot like the guy who was in the pool house earlier, maybe related?
Nah, the chances were slim. Besides, would they both be a pain in the ass today? The name on his coat said Jon, and he wore jeans with a tool belt, Mr. Fixer-Upper would be a more fitting name for him.
“Well, I didn’t want to disturb you, we can come back later after everyone has left for the day.” He smiled.
“That’s fine. I was just leaving. You can have the room.” With my coffee in one hand and briefcase in the other, I was headed toward my office when my cell went off. I searched inside the pocket of my suit jacket, then rifled through my leather bag when someone or something collided into me, and my coffee went all over my new cream-colored suit.
“What the…”
“It’s my fault,” a deep masculine voice confirmed his guilt. I looked up into the face of the same construction worker from this morning. His eyes widened then narrowed at me.
“You damn right it’s your fault. Apparently, you didn’t get the memo that said when you’re with civilized people, you don’t need to drag your knuckles on the floor.” My face grew hot as thoughts of hurting him swirled in my mind, “You’re going to pay to replace this,” I seethed.