Casual
A Modern Pride and Prejudice Variation
By Different Thoughts
Part One
Casual Beginnings “I am only resolved to act in that manner, which will, in my own opinion, constitute my happiness, without reference to you, or to any person so wholly unconnected with me.”
Elizabeth Bennet, Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austin
CHAPTER ONE
The First time
The first time I slept with Fitzwilliam Darcy, it was so unexpected and so unlikely that if I wasn’t there myself I wouldn’t have believed it happened.
At the time, we were more than acquaintances, but not exactly friends. If anything, we were more like antagonists who begrudgingly put up with one another because we were forced to be in each other’s company so often.
See, it started out like this. My sister Jane and I had developed a software program designed specifically for medical facilities, to make it incredibly easy for doctors to access a patient’s medical history. It was pretty dope, actually, and I say that fully realizing no one uses the word dope anymore.
The idea had sprung from working in a medical records office for a few years and seeing how things could be streamlined with the right kind of software. We had always been into computers and taken several classes on the subject, so one day we just took the leap; I cut my hours at work in order to focus more on finishing my degree in software engineering, during which we also poured every spare moment we had into development.
We weren’t both able to work full time on it, so it did end up taking quite a while before we had a working prototype and even longer than that before we smoothed it into something worthwhile.
As soon as the kinks were worked out, we’d put the word out to businesses that might be interested in using it. Incredibly, we were contacted by someone from Darcy Technologies, the top software development company in the U.S.
We pretended not to be totally shocked when Mr. Darcy himself met with us. He wanted us to install the software at his friend Charlie Bingley’s medical offices, and if it went off without a hitch, we would be in business. Of course, much to my ongoing misery, Mr. Darcy himself insisted on standing over our shoulders the entire process, double-checking every single aspect of our work.
The foundation of our mutual dislike was established that day.
The first day I met him, Darcy felt the need to comment on my untidy appearance. My curly, often unruly hair admittedly looked like a bird’s nest on top of my head that day due to my hand-me-down convertible having an unresponsive switch that wouldn’t bring the top up. I had to drive over an hour on the highway with the top down. Still, did he really have to be so rude as to comment on how terrible I looked?
Any nervousness I had initially experienced fled under his critical eye and overbearing ways; my courage had risen to the challenge and I was determined not to be intimidated.
So what if he was incredibly smart, insanely talented, and ridiculously good-looking? I was in no way impressed; I knew our program would streamline the electronic medical record process and there was nothing Darcy could say to change that fact.
Jane was more easy-going about our domineering boss, but that was Jane’s personality. To be fair, her attitude might have also had to do with the fact that she was mooning over Dr. Charles Bingley the entire time.
Fortunately, he was aware enough of how lucky he was to gain her interest and hadn’t hesitated to ask her out. Unfortunately, Darcy and I often got wrapped up into their outings. This made for plenty of time to argue with one another, which we were particularly good at, seeing as how it was pretty much our only form of communication.
After the software was implemented and the employees educated on how to use it, Jane and I walked away with a pretty sizeable paycheck from Darcy Technologies for the rights to our software. Well, walked away was probably not accurate. Darcy had offered cash and a job on his development team. As much as I despised the boorish man, it would have been foolish and irrationally stubborn to turn down the incredible offer. Still, I had to admit I had very much been looking forward to seeing the backside of him.
Figuratively. I was in no way interested in his backside, despite how impressively good it looked.
Or… whatever; not the point.
After not too much prodding from Jane, I finally accepted the job. Jane and Charlie still went out on a regular basis and Darcy and I still got dragged out with them every once in a while.
We were actually supposed to meet his friend and my sister on the night our relationship had, let’s say, slipped into something far more complicated than frenemies, or coworkers, or whatever the hell we had been to one another.
I was picking him up at his condo the night my world turned on its axis. Well, to be perfectly honest, he was the one driving us to the party where we were supposed to meet our better halves; I had just taken the bus to his place to make it easier. I may have been in between cars at the moment; my convertible hadn’t made it through the latest trip to the mechanic.
“We’re going to be late,” I pointed out, knowing how much Darcy absolutely despised being late to anything. For him, ten minutes early was on time, on time was late, and anything past that was a personal disgrace.
“If Charlie had given me any warning-” he grumbled, sounding impressively pissed about the whole situation. Then again, what else was new? I rolled my eyes.
“It’s not like you have to go,” I was swinging my purse in a bored manner, leaning against the wall outside of his bedroom. His bedroom door was wide open; for such a private guy, Darcy didn’t seem to notice his exhibitionist tendencies. Not that I ever wanted to see him naked.
“I’m your ride, aren’t I?” he was suddenly beside me in the open doorway. I stopped swinging my purse and might have jumped a little at his close proximity.
“Please,” I scoffed, turning towards him and crossing my arms, “You aren’t going to use me as an excuse. All I need is to have to listen to you whining all night about how it’s my fault you had to be social.”
“I do not whine.” He glared. With practice, I ignored how he looked like he wanted to burn a hole in the side of my head and instead took in his wardrobe choice.
“Really? A suit?” I pursed my lips and looked to the ceiling. “Shocker.” I never bothered about sparing his feelings because, to be honest, I wasn’t sure he had any.
“What is wrong now?” he huffed, looking down at himself. The image he presented wasn’t actually a bad one; he had on an expensive-looking black suit, and the white shirt he wore contrasted nicely with the color of his tie – a dark blue color that was so close to the exact shade of his eyes I wondered if he’d had it specially made.
“It’s a party, Darcy,” I rolled my eyes. “At a dive bar. You were the kind of kid who showed up to birthday parties wearing your church clothes, weren’t you?”
“Church clothes?” He was either questioning me or mocking me; from his scathing tone it was hard to tell which. Either way, the glare turned into a scowl. A petulant scowl, I might add. “I suppose this means I have to change.” He was already angrily tearing his tie off. I winced, thinking it would be a shame if anything happened to what was, secretly, my favorite tie of his. Not that I really cared.
“No, by all means, wear a suit; make sure everyone remembers you’re the boss. Maybe you can even bring your laptop, so no one comes up to talk to you,” I suggested sarcastically.
“Fine by me,” he sulked.
I sighed. “God, you are such a baby,” I felt the need to point out as I dropped my purse beside me.
With both hands now free, I slipped his jacket off his shoulders, taking advantage of the absolute astonishment that rendered him motionless. I’m not sure we had ever touched before
, but I was not about to stand out here another twenty minutes just so he could change into something that would probably turn out to make him look just as unapproachable.
I pivoted and hung the jacket on the door handle, afraid he would contemplate bodily harm if I casually tossed it aside. Knowing him, it was probably worth more than the value of all my clothes combined.
He had already gotten rid of the tie, so I unbuttoned the top two buttons on his shirt and tugged it open a bit, folding the open collar back. I looked him over with a critical eye, and then rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. He took my endeavors to make him appear more casual stoically, which kind of put me on edge, to be honest. At the very least I expected him to complain throughout the process. I also wouldn’t put it past him to push me away and tell me to take my opinions on his wardrobe and shove them.
I looked him over again. He was still stiff, but honestly, I couldn’t help him with that; it was ingrained. He was also looking at me with an expression I couldn’t interpret and for some reason I felt a blush creeping up my neck. Impulsively, I reached up and messed his hair, every strand of which was always perfectly in place.
“Wow, your hair is really soft.” The words had left my mouth before I could really think about how it would sound–-story of my life. I might have also been beyond destroying his probably very expensive hairdo and was now simply running my hand through it; ostensibly to fix the mess I had made.
But, seriously, that was all that had happened. That was all it had taken for him to lean the remaining distance between us and kiss me. Which, in my defense, was shocking, in every sense of the word. Seriously – shocking; I am not using that term lightly here.
I froze as I tried to think of how to react, but I was easily distracted by the shockwave of pleasure I got from the feeling of his lips on mine. This was the first reason I did not push him away and ask him what the hell he was thinking. And then I noticed it was a nice kiss. Really, really nice. That was the second.
So, I might have started kissing him back. The hand that had just been running through his incredibly soft hair slipped to the back of his neck just as his hand grabbed a fistful of my curls.
Instead of things eventually slowing down enough to remember we hated each other, we barely stopped to even take a breath. We definitely didn’t speak, an act which I am convinced, no matter what was said by whom, would have killed the sudden passion between us and put an end to whatever was happening.
So I kind of just…let nature take its course. Yeah, I hated the guy and I hated myself a little bit for sleeping with someone I despised so much but what could I say? He was a really good kisser. He was also really good at other things too.
There was no hesitation, no awkwardness even though there definitely should have been. We explored each other as new lovers often did, but he was so sure of every move he made. That calculating, intense focus of his was completely on me, and I felt him cataloging every shudder, every hitch of my breath for further review.
I had never been with a man where the first time, at least, didn’t have its share of fumbling and hesitancy. Somehow challenged by his effectiveness, I found myself becoming just as attuned to him.
I reveled in every groan, every tremor, and especially the way he hissed what may have been the shortest version of my name with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenched. I found I wanted to make him lose the control he wore like a second skin and I did my very best to make that happen. It was almost a battle between us, except the more one of us won, the better it was for the other.
So, yeah, we missed the party.
∞∞∞
When I was sneaking out of his house hours later, I had a few missed calls. Both Jane and Charlotte, my new friend who also worked for DT, were attempting to see where I was. Charlotte and I had met my first day on the job and became best friends instantly due to our mutual wit and love of sarcasm.
Thinking about Charlotte reminded me that not only did I just sleep with my mortal enemy, but I also just slept with my boss. That couldn’t be good.
Surprisingly though, he didn’t really make it awkward. In the first show of social grace from him ever, he simply pretended nothing had changed in our relationship. That included still arguing with me over every little thing.
He wasn’t suddenly sweet; we weren’t exchanging shy or flirty smiles in the hallway or during meetings. Nor was he sullen about me leaving his bed without a word; he didn’t try to corner me and talk about our relationship. I had to take the afternoon to process how I felt about that, but then I realized I was relieved. I definitely didn’t want a relationship with this man; we were way too different on almost every level.
So we slept together. It would have been nice if there had been alcohol to blame, but there it is. That would have probably been the end of it if it hadn’t happened again.
CHAPTER TWO
The Second Time
I had come by his condo to drop off a pet project I was working on that he, astonishingly—and fine, yes, graciously—said he would take a look at. I had forgotten to give it to him while we were both still at work. He was incredibly busy all the time and had already scheduled my project in for this weekend, so I had to get it to him tonight or forget the whole thing.
He invited me in, took my thumb drive that contained the project and my notes, and began questioning me about it. This included pointing out all the potential flaws. Yeah, sleeping together definitely did not make him any nicer to me.
I hadn’t had any qualms about coming by here again; the idea that we might fall back into bed if left alone at the scene of the crime hadn’t crossed my mind. It had been three months, and we hadn’t even mentioned what had happened. There were no secret touches when no one was looking, no lingering looks of desire. I mean, he did stare at me all the time – and that is not my ego talking, people noticed. But it was more like he was classifying everything wrong with me. I feel a less confident person would have developed a serious complex by now.
We were always in each other’s company, though. My love of Jane and his friendship with Charlie didn’t give us much of a chance to avoid each other. Today, it was working out in my favor; it was due to a discussion about my latest proposal we had while eating out with the happy couple that prompted him to offer his help. I would be a stubborn fool to turn him down.
“Charlie and I were going to watch the game tonight, but he bailed to be with your sister.” Darcy scowled at me like I had personally taken his best—and let’s face it, probably only —friend away from him. He put the thumb drive I had given him next to his open laptop, and then went into the kitchen. I followed, entering just as he was putting some chip dip away in the fridge.
“Watch the game? How surprisingly conventional of you,” I said instead of defending myself from his misplaced anger. “Were there going to be brewski’s involved?”
“Brewski?” his anger changed into complete confusion, and he said the word like he wasn’t sure it didn’t have a dirty meaning.
“Beer,” I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the counter. “Lower yourself and talk to the common man once in a while.”
“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?” he smirked.
“Ass,” I frowned, and then decided to get him back by teasing him; after all, he hated to be laughed at. “Wait, I know where I’m confused. By game, you must mean chess tournament, or maybe even golf, right?”
“I mean soccer,” he was back to scowling, “or, as the rest of the world calls it, football.”
“Are you sure? Because it’s far more likely you planned on watching a chess tournament while drinking Scotch than watching soccer with a couple of beers,” I told him.
“I played soccer in college,” he informed me. “Why would it be so unbelievable that I enjoy watching it now?”
I stared at him for a moment, studying him with exaggerated intensity before blinking once and shaking my head. “You did not play soccer.”
“I’m so glad you are s
uch an expert on my life,” he frowned, and then left the kitchen in a huff. I was about to take that as my cue to leave when he returned, holding a framed picture. He practically shoved it at me and I mostly took it so it wouldn’t fall and break, which would give him something else to yell at me about.
I looked down to see a picture of Darcy, Charlie, and two other guys. They were younger, all of them wearing soccer uniforms and standing in a field somewhere. Darcy’s left foot was resting on a ball, his arms crossed, and Charlie’s arm was slung around his shoulders in a casual manner. They were also completely filthy, with mud splattered all over their uniforms.
“Holy shit,” I breathed, still staring at the photo.
“Is it really that shocking that I played a sport in college?” he asked with a bit of exasperation.
“No, I mean holy shit you’re actually smiling.” I couldn’t take my eyes off of the relaxed and cheerful younger man. He was, in fact, grinning in the photo, with teeth and all. I would have been blind not to notice his good looks before now, but this younger Darcy could easily have been a movie star on appearance alone. “Can I get a copy of this? I’m not sure anyone would believe me otherwise.”
He practically snatched the frame out of my hands.
“I smile,” he pouted, leaving to return the photo from whence it came.
Of course, I followed him. I’m not sure I was completely joking about getting a copy, and I wanted to see where he was returning it to. That is, until I saw him go into his bedroom; then I stopped and sat on the arm of the couch instead. It was one thing pretending nothing happened between us, but jumping right into the lion’s den would be pushing my luck
He came out of the room, still looking sulky. I decided, in light of him doing me this favor, that I would ignore his mood and be polite.
“Thanks for looking at my project for me,” I said. He seemed surprised at the friendliness in my tone and instead of whatever biting retort I’m sure he was about to give, he simply nodded. “Well, have fun watching the game. Drink a brewski for me.”
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