by Cat Gardiner
She beamed. “That’s a promise.”
Liz’s Blog Post Here
Chapter Eighteen – Thursday, December 19
6 Days Until Christmas
Looking out at the bustle of Madison Avenue from her window on the second floor, Elizabeth barely noticed the traffic jam holding up streams of yellow cabs from delivering their fares. The city was readying for a predicted snowfall, causing commuters to vacate the concrete jungle before they became stranded. Manhattan residents hardly cared, going about their normal business but for anyone visiting the city for Christmas shopping, a winter snowstorm was the worst possible inconvenience that could happen.
Elizabeth cradled her desktop phone's earpiece between shoulder and ear, speaking to Charlotte while toying with her cell phone. She waited, nay hoped for another text from Darcy.
The conversation with Charlotte had subtly switched from discussing the final print of the calendar, and its upcoming launch party scheduled for the next day to, of course, their personal lives.
"You've been conspicuously absent from my dating life since we went to see Sadie, Char. That was a week ago. What's going on? Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, everything is great. I've been just a little pre-occupied that's all. Things with Preppy and me seem to be moving to another level.”
“Do tell, Chica …”
“Let’s just say he didn’t object when I hung colorful Christmas stockings from his minimalist, white, booorrinnggg… fireplace mantle. At first I thought he’d die but when he read the ‘Preppy’ and ‘Punky’ writing across the front of each, he laughed uproariously.”
“So, he’s letting you get comfortable. That’s a good sign.”
“It’s just for Christmas. I’m not looking beyond that. One day at a time until John leaves my place. He’s been buggering the hell out of me about you, so I figured I should just stay clear of him and the whole dating, matchmaking scene at least until your next event with Sadie’s blind date. In the end, I know you’re gonna do what you're gonna do without any input from me. Not that you’d listen to me about John anyway, foolish, willful girl that you are."
"No input from you? That would be a first. Since when don't you have an opinion or rather, a directive, especially this month? Like I said, you have free-reign in my dating department."
"Well ... since you insist. I think you're a fool to go with John to the Burn Foundation's Holiday Gala. Rick's offer still stands, you can go with us. It'll make him look good having both of us on his arm - one on each side, as though he's this mega Playboy. Quite the poster boy for a hot-shot divorce lawyer, wouldn't you say?"
"No thanks, I made a commitment and I'll keep it. I've already borrowed one of Jane's gowns. It's done."
"What about Mr. December?"
"A Hershey's kiss and a yellow rose do not make a “couple” or a full-blown romance. We have our kickboxing reward date tonight, and then I'll give you my full report. You do realize Mr. December most likely has a date for this gala, right?"
"Maybe he does. You already know what you think of him. You're probably thinking about him right now, sitting there in your office, staring out the window thinking of his hot bod hanging from that ladder truck. You're probably toying with your cell phone waiting for him to call or text you."
Elizabeth looked to her office door, considering the strong possibility that Charlotte was actually spying on her. She placed her cell phone back on the desk and rotated her chair to face the open office door. Of course, that merely freed her hand to pick up from her, uncharacteristically, messy desktop the finished calendar taunting her. She couldn't help flipping quickly past January through November. Her interest was totally centered on a year from now, specifically, the photo representing exactly one year from now, and that hard gleaming six-pack she'd greased up last week and dreamt about last night.
She stared at the slick, glossy image of Mr. December. "I'm not thinking of him."
"Why is this so difficult for you, Lizzy? You like him, you're majorly attracted to him, he's a considerate man, and Preppy’s cousin, which accounts for a lot, and most importantly he’s super attracted to you. What's holding you back? Don't miss this opportunity with Darcy because of what your jerk of an ex-boyfriend did to you years ago."
Elizabeth lied, "I'm not pushing Darcy away because of John. I’m just cautious that’s all.”
Charlotte sighed in defeat. "Where's blue eyes taking you tonight?"
"I'm not sure. He said to dress in cocktail attire, but warm. I bought something at Bergdorf's yesterday. I can’t believe how much I spent but it’s a Michael Kors tweed, zip up suit - with leather. I must be insane. It’s that frickin’ moon. I’m sure of it."
"Woo Hoo! Zippers and leather you say? Did you buy shoes too?"
"Yes ... a pair of Blahnik ankle straps with ..." Elizabeth picked up the invitation to the calendar launch party, running her finger down Darcy’s abs displayed on the face of the slick cardstock.
"With?"
"Studs on the ankles.”
Silence ensued.
"Char? Are you there?"
"Lizzy? Are you there? Cause' damn if I don't know the woman who just said she bought a pair of dominatrix F-me shoes to go with her easy-access suit. Did you buy new lingerie to match?"
"No comment."
"Good girl. I'm so proud of you. See, you are interested in Darcy.” In a childlike singsong taunt she repeated, “Lizzy’s gonna get laid, Lizzy’s gonna get laid.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Grow up!”
“I’d love to stay and tease you some more but I gotta’ run. Preppy's stopping by between meetings. God, I just can't get enough of him. His equipment is massive and it's like super-powered ... just sayin' ... though, for your sake ... that might be one hell of a family gene-pool ... sorry, t.m.i ...."
“Yes, t.m.i. Give him my regards – in a purely platonic fashion."
"If I remember. Listen, call me tomorrow with the play by play. Even if you're hung over or sexed up, I still want you to call. k?"
"Love you, Char."
"Yeah, yeah Lez-boo ... love you, too. Have fun, forget your lists and criteria and practice safe sex. Just enjoy his company and the night out – or in for that matter. You know, this storm they’re forecasting just may get you snowed in."
“Thanks for the advice, mom.”
“Now if I was your mom, I’d tell you to ditch the condom and get yourself knocked up pronto. After all, your eggs are wasting away.”
At exactly six thirty, Elizabeth's doorman called to say she had a visitor. Not ready for Darcy to come up to her apartment this early in their non-relationship, she chose to meet him in the lobby.
Standing beside the building’s Christmas tree, Darcy looked around nervously waiting for his much anticipated and expertly sought after date. He adjusted his red tie then did so again. He shifted his weight then picked up a magazine carelessly thumbing through it without even noting the pages. Finally, he tossed it onto the coffee table and took a deep breath. Looking out the lobby window onto 70th Street, he pretended to admire the winter city scene of stark-silhouetted trees festooned with white, twinkling lights.
The image that greeted Elizabeth when the elevator door opened into the lobby was a stylish, debonair, fashion model-esque corporate executive. Definitely not the tough New York City firefighter she knew Darcy to be. Her heart rate sped up at the sight of him standing there looking like a millionaire wearing a charcoal Brooks Brothers overcoat made of expensive cashmere and wool. A herringbone patterned cashmere scarf draped beneath the coat’s raised collar spoke class and sophistication. He stood with one hand in his trouser pocket as though striking a pose for the camera. Yum.
Exiting the elevator, she strategically held her coat over her arm, seeking Darcy’s response and hoping he would approve of her look. Tonight's ensemble represented a huge venture into a fashion world she wasn't comfortable exploring without the expertise of either Charlotte or Jane.
From
his position near the tree, Darcy saw her approach, and his head snapped up in response. He was taken aback by her confident, sexy gait and the brilliance of her smile. Her raven hair lay draped over one shoulder in a wavy, side ponytail held together in place with a silver clip. Sophisticated black and white tweed married leather in a portrait-collared, fitted silhouette suit, and boy did he approve of the look. He grinned, especially when he noticed the two-way zippers on both the jacket and the slit skirt, already dangerously drawn and suggestive. His eyes slowly traveled down her long legs to the sexiest shoes he had ever seen. Black leather pointed toes and ankles wrapped with silver studs.
He walked toward her in a fog of desire, anticipation and thunder stuck awe. "Again, you mesmerize me, Liz. You look incredible."
"Thank you. I hope it's suitable for what you’ve planned."
"It's perfect.” He took the coat from her arm, holding it open for her to put on.
Such a small gentlemanly gesture, but it held so much weight. No one had ever done that for her. Elizabeth was sure she thanked him, but she was temporarily lost in the alluring scent of his cologne and the masculine, professional image he conveyed. To her, this persona was sexier than his firefighter one.
“Well, shall we?” Darcy extended his arm to the revolving door, allowing her to lead the way.
Parked directly in front of the building, a full-size, black limousine was at the ready, its driver stood holding open the rear passenger door in welcome. She looked to Darcy, and he shrugged one shoulder, sheepishly smiling.
“Thank you, Andy,” he said. “This is Elizabeth Bennet. Elizabeth this is Andy. He’s been with my family since I was old enough for him to take me for my first driving lesson.”
Andy held out his leather-gloved hand in greeting. “Miss Elizabeth. Merry Christmas. It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Merry Christmas to you. It’s nice to meet you as well. You must be very brave to have taught a young man how to drive your beautiful limousine.”
Darcy smiled sheepishly, again. “It was actually my father’s Porsche he taught me in. There was no way I was going to learn in this boat.”
Andy allowed a small chortle, immediately reverting back to business. “Will we be heading straight downtown, Sir or stopping off beforehand for you to dine?”
“We’ll go straight. I’ve made arrangements once we get there.”
“Very good, Sir.”
Dumbstruck by the enlightening and confusing conversation, Elizabeth’s mouth resisted slacking. Clearly, this limo wasn’t a rental meant to impress her. It was his limo, and once they settled into the smooth, cool leather interior, feeling every bit the affluent, she asked, “A Porsche? Sir?”
“Yeah, I’ve been trying to break him of that for years, but I hardly use the limo, so after a while I just gave up the fight. If he wants to address me as ‘Sir’ or ‘Mr. Darcy’ it doesn’t matter, really. So long as he’s happy.”
She was amazed. “Who are you?”
“Just a guy.”
“Just a guy? I don’t think so. You own a limo in New York City. I’m sorry but that takes quite a bit of pocket change just to garage.”
“Money’s nothing. It’s always been something I grew up with and something my parents left to me when they passed away in 2005.” Darcy held her vision, looking for the change of her thoughts and emotions in her expressive eyes.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”
“Thank you.”
Sitting across from her, he braved taking her gloved hand in his, lost for a moment in quiet reflection. Distractedly, he caressed her soft skin with his index finger, brushing below the edge of the black leather.
“If you don’t mind me asking, Will, if you have all this money why do you continue to work? Of course, I think it’s admirable that you choose to be a firefighter, putting your life in jeopardy and all that, but why. What’s your motivation?”
“It’s complicated. As you say, I don’t have to do it, but I want to do it. My parents always taught me to try to make a difference in the lives of others. New York’s firefighters do that every day, and if I can help them save one life then the risk of my own is worth it. I love it. I love the men who go into battle with me, and I love the job. I love this city, and I love being able to honor my parents’ lives and memories by what I do. My salary gets donated directly to offset the costs of the Children’s Burn Camp.”
Before she could respond, because the look of surprise on her face told him what he needed to know, he smoothly changed the subject. This was a joyful evening, even if the anniversary of his parent’s death was tomorrow. He smiled brightly. “So … are you hungry? Did you eat already?”
“No, I didn’t eat yet. I didn’t know if we were going to go to dinner. You were extremely vague, ya’ know.”
He mischievously grinned. “I meant to be vague. I wanted to surprise you. You said you liked surprises.”
Slowly, he withdrew the kid leather glove from her hand and draped it across his knee. He reveled in the softness of her fingers when he entwined them with his. They fit perfectly with his. “Thank you for agreeing to come out with me tonight.”
Elizabeth hardly noticed the passing city where Christmas splendor was alive on every street corner. Nothing existed beyond the quiet intimacy of their drive down to Midtown. In the darkened limo, their eyes remained locked, their hearts yearning, their desires suppressed. Something magical was happening between them, and she couldn’t deny it. A word popped into her mind – that and Sadie’s smile – bashert.
Driving down Broadway, the magnificent, star-lit Christmas tree beside the fountains in Lincoln Center Plaza went ignored, but the stars in Elizabeth’s eyes kept Darcy riveted to the beauty of her face. Her glasses were gone, and he clearly saw every emotion playing out behind those beautiful, sparkling emeralds.
Oblivious to the muffled sounds outside the tinted windows, the traffic was brutal, and the gridlock grew increasingly worse as they skirted the Pedestrian Mall that detoured the traffic through the Broadway intersections above Times Square. When the limo headed through the heart and soul of the city, Darcy finally asked, “Would you like to listen to some music?”
“Sure.”
Pressing a button on the console to his right, his iPod began to play the specific playlist compiled just for the evening. The first song, heartfelt and filled with expression, was the song she had posted on her blog after her visit with Sadie: Josh Groban’s “Thankful.”
“I love this song!” she exclaimed. “He’s fabulous. I wanted to see him in concert last year, but Charlotte absolutely refused. She and I don’t quite see eye to eye on music. She’s more punk and garage.”
“Rick seems to be seeing eye-to-eye with her on everything. I never thought I’d see the day when he would stick with one woman longer than a week, and here he’s going beyond two. It’s good to see that all those nasty, high-profile divorces he deals with on a daily basis haven’t tainted him.”
“Do you believe in marriage? I mean, how do you look at dating? A means to a happy end … or something you do because variety is the spice of life?”
Darcy knew she wasn’t looking for marriage – or so she said. He certainly didn’t want to scare her off, but he didn’t want to mislead her either. Hell, it even came as a shock to him, but his own Thanksgiving revelation had been quite an eye opener for him.
“Until recently, very recently, I’ve been … rather … commitment phobic. Truth is … I do want marriage. I want what my parents had, and I want to live everyday with the woman I love as though it was our last moment together. I’m just afraid of failure and the whole process of putting my heart out there, not to mention you have to go through a lot of strange people and situations before you find ‘the one’.”
“I know what you mean. The dating scene I’ve experienced these last three weeks has been – unique – to say the least.”
Darcy paused for a second, choosing his words and the intent of his message
carefully. “Do you realize that from the first night I met you at the tree lighting until Tuesday night at Jane and Charlie’s it was exactly thirteen days? That and given the fullness of the moon, like one I’ve never seen before, I’d say it was a pretty auspicious evening for you and me to begin again. Lucky. Maybe lucky thirteen.”
“Thirteen and a full moon have never been a combination that bodes well for me. More like unlucky thirteen.” In her mind, she added, Lizzy to the end of that statement.
Darcy furrowed his brow as though he didn’t know the answer. “Why’s that?”
“Long story … maybe I’ll tell you sometime when I know you better. I can’t share all my dark corners and secrets with you right off the bat, can I? I’m not so keen to run you off just yet.”
“You won’t.”
“You’re sure of that?”
“Yes … I’m positive of that.”
“What about my lists?”
“They mean that you’re organized.”
“What about my career’s success and fast track?”
“Impressive and well suited to you.”
“Hmm, and my sharp tongue?”
“The sign of an honest, quick, and passionate mind.”
“Well, what of my so-called ‘bookish’, professional persona?”
“A mere façade covering the exotic woman below, and might I add, a persona that turns out to perfectly suit me.”
She snorted. “That’s so not what you said thirteen and two days ago.”
“I didn’t know you then. But since you maintain that you are this bookish professional, let’s talk about this fast track at BADCo. What’s next for Elizabeth Bennet?”