by Cat Gardiner
The memories of that night came vividly flashing back, all of it, the roaring flames, the firefighters, Georgiana on the gurney and Rick’s anguished sobs. Darcy knew he had to relive that night in his mind’s eye in order to deal with his self-imposed guilt. Only now, after eight years, was he able to face the memory of those two people he had cherished most in the world and strip his heart bare – even forgive himself.
He allowed a tear to fall, then another. His heart had thawed due to one woman, and he was allowing himself to love another person as his parents had loved each other. Now that seemed to be turning to shit before it even began.
There were three texts and two phone messages, and Elizabeth had ignored every one of them. Darcy was at his wits end thinking what he had done wrong. Replaying every touch, word and unspoken promise over and again, he wondered what happened to have made her bolt.
He kissed his fingers and touched the marble engravings of both his parents' resting place then found a seat beside Georgiana on the stone bench. She leaned into him with her shoulder butting against his and his arm wrapped around her.
“Thanks for coming with us today. I know it’s not easy for you, bro,” she whispered.
“It was time. I’m ready to start to let go of the guilt but it’s hard.”
“They’d be proud of you, and I’m sure they’d love Liz ‘cause she’s perfect for you. Perfect for me, too. I think she’ll make a good sister.”
Rick walked over and stood before them. “I messed up, Will. I’m sorry I pushed you and Liz too hard, too fast. I just wanted you to find happiness and if possible, love. In the end, I was the one who found love and you’re on the verge of battle.”
Darcy furrowed his brow. “Do you know something about why she isn’t returning my calls?”
His cousin looked back at his adopted parents. “You want the details, here? Now?”
“Does it matter? I’m sure they’re looking down and know it all anyway.”
Rick looked at his feet when he spoke, afraid to see the anguish on his cousin’s face. “Yeah, I guess so. Liz is upset with you for that little list sitting on top your computer desk. She thinks you manipulated her.”
“Damn! I knew I should have tossed that list.”
“Yeah, well she’s assuming you used her for sex, which given your history, that would very well have been within the realm of possibilities – until you met Liz, of course. You and I know better, but she doesn’t quite know you or your heart yet, does she?”
“No, I guess one dinner at her sister’s and the greatest date I could ever imagine hardly constitutes a relationship. We were only just beginning to scratch the surface in getting to know one another more deeply, but damn if I'm not head over heels in love with her already. I’m screwed aren’t I?”
“While I take the bulk of responsibility, you know you shouldn’t have been drinking. That never bodes well. Sex and booze mixed together are nasty business. Things are said, guards are let down – expensive Rolexes get lost.”
Georgiana chuckled. “Wait a minute, Liz is the reason you texted me to stay at Aunt Catherine’s last night?”
Darcy nodded. “It wasn’t just sex. Sorry G, guy talk. Do you want me to stop?”
“No. I’m not so virginal that I can’t hear this stuff.”
His big brother look bore into her. “I don’t even want to know what that means. What happened between Liz and me went beyond a roll in the hay - at least from my perspective. I wasn’t so drunk that I don’t remember hearing her tell me she loved me or that I’ve forgotten my telling her the same.”
Rick raised his brows. “Well, then you need to know that she knows you know something highly secretive about her sister, something Bingley doesn’t even know about. Now, of course, the divorce lawyer in me is curious about that little secret but I’ll let it lie. It’s none of my business and given that her high profile sister will be getting married – well that could be a marketable, possibly profitable secret come divorce time.”
“Not funny. I’d die protecting Charlie from anything that would cause him pain. I don’t care about what Liz’s sister does or did. It’s none of my business whatsoever. Her secrets are her own and meant for her own disclosure. I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to tell him.”
“Well, you are going to have to tell her why you posed as this “Caveman” on the blog. A thing I specifically cautioned you about but you couldn’t resist, could you?”
He looked to Georgiana. “And you, G, you’re in the doghouse too. She knows you set her up for information to help him. Sadly, she told Charlotte you betrayed her friendship. I’m sorry about that.”
“Oh gosh, I feel terrible. I have to make this right, explain about Will and how he feels about her and why I helped him. I really like her as a friend and would hate for her to think so poorly of me.”
Darcy stood then walked toward the wrought iron entrance of the family mausoleum. “No everyone stays out of this from here on in. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me, and I appreciate your wanting to make this right, but this is my life and my responsibility to face and atone for. I’ll make this right and explain to Liz tonight at the launch party exactly why I did what I did. Perhaps I can redeem myself, perhaps not, but I have to try.”
Darcy looked to his parents’ picture and the stained glass above, briefly closed his eyes and then left the alcove.
“Get that camera away from me, Charlotte. I’m not going to ask you again,” Elizabeth reprimanded as she stood beside the antique fire engine in the New York City Fire Museum, stacking copies of the newly released calendars. The long powerful hose draped along the side of the vehicle taunted her like a bad dream. Albeit, her perception of what transpired was skewed, but she had remembered many details worth remembering – or forgetting - depending on one’s perspective.
On the floor above, over two hundred guests had arrived for the launch event and were already living it up with the calendar men of the New York Fire Department. The highly sought-after, A-list DJ was burning down the house, and the pounding retro disco beat of Cool and The Gang reverberated through the old building’s beamed ceiling above Elizabeth’s head. Based on the sounds of laughter mixed with music, everyone was enjoying themselves, dancing, eating and flirting with the thirteen hard bodies.
Darcy had already arrived, and she thanked her unlucky stars she was out of sight in the kitchen speaking with the caterer. She dreaded their confrontation and stayed determined to remain downstairs greeting guests rather than her traditional account management duties as the Foundation’s advertising executive.
For the first time since embarking on the campaign, she felt less than enthusiastic. Most of the FDBF's Board of Directors was present, along with many of New York’s prominent movers and shakers from both the media and society world. Tickets valued at a cool three hundred dollars apiece sold out in a matter of hours once the press release hit New York Magazine, Style and the New York Times online sites. It would have been a perfect evening and she should be excited – instead she felt like death warmed over.
Smiling and greeting each guest, she resembled the professional, staid, career-minded woman she had always been. She was hardly recognizable from the woman she portrayed in both appearance and action the night before. Gone was the alluring, fashionable creature dressing in Michael Kors couture, and in her stead stood her alter-ego conservative, bookish, plain persona. Heavy-rimmed glasses concealed the beauty of her emerald eyes. Her nature-kissed, makeup-less face glowed with purity, and her usual, bun-styled, raven hair clung to the back of her head higher, tighter and more severe than ever before.
Wearing a tailored, navy pantsuit and crisp, white blouse not a scintilla of chic style or appeal was present to accentuate her figure. For all intents and purposes, she blended into the old brick walls, a part of the functioning background of utilitarian apparatus, equipment and fixtures. That was just what she planned. She was sorry she had ever listened to Charlotte and Jane with thei
r insistence on changing her appearance.
Charlotte photographed her again. The flash illuminated the exhibit room, casting a quick spotlight on a firefighter mannequin dressed in black bunker gear sitting on the back end of a 1905 steam engine. A bright red Santa hat, tilted sideways, sat jauntily atop his helmet.
Elizabeth hissed, "I said, stop it."
“I’m ignoring you. This is what I get paid to do. Besides, that Santa pencil, now that he’s made a re-appearance, is oh so lovely tucked into that thick, schoolmarm skull of yours.”
“I’m ignoring you, traitor or should I call you liar? How could you keep a secret from me about my own sister and my ex-boyfriend sleeping together?”
Charlotte grabbed her arm, tugging her forcefully behind the truck and beside a menacing wall display of axes and crowbars. “That doesn’t sound like you ignoring me. There was no purpose in telling you about Jane and John. I keep my brother’s confidences just as you keep your sister’s. Don’t fault me for that. Their tryst was five years ago – five long years ago when they were both out of their heads with sudden fame and notoriety. You want to be mad at someone, well then, be mad at perfect Jane for keeping it from you.”
“I am!”
“Lizzy, you have to understand what Rick and I did was for your own good. I love you and I want you to find happiness, but you never even gave Darcy a chance before you condemned him. How else was he going to get to know you?”
“He never deserved a chance to begin with. He proved his colors from the start and then he played me like a fool by spying on me through the blog.”
“Oh, please! Your blog is public. He didn’t spy on you, and Darcy didn’t force you to drink last night. He certainly didn’t force you to agree to go out with him, and more importantly, he didn’t force you to have sex with him – five times! You made all those decisions on your own. Hell, you even bought the right underwear anticipating the occasion. You wanted him as much as he wants you, girl. Your blog post spoke volumes last night."
“Of course, I anticipated it and agreed to it. He said and did all the right things. All the things I told him I wanted in a man – in my blog! Look Char, I don’t want to talk about this!”
She wrenched her arm from Charlotte’s grasp. “It’s over – this whole dating nightmare is over! I failed at my endeavor and that’s that. This wasn’t what I had planned.”
Charlotte heard her mumble under her breath, "I'll just go alone."
“Stop with the pity party! This isn’t about finding a Christmas date any longer! This is about healing those scars my arrogant brother caused and you giving into the yearnings of your heart for the first time in seven years. This is about your soul mate! Darcy is your soul mate and you know it! You love him, and he’s in love with you.”
“I don’t love him and I’ll deny ever saying that I do. I was drunk and under his spell. John has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with why I've resisted falling in love or committing to a relationship.”
“Bull crap. You and I both know that when you drink it acts like a truth serum. You said it, and I believe it – you’re in love with Darcy and terrified by what you feel.”
Elizabeth turned and walked away, leaving Charlotte standing alone. She knew in her gut that what Charlotte said was not only logical but it was the pitiful truth. Those memories of her telling Darcy how she felt came back as soon as she remembered his own declaration as he tenderly made love to her.
She shook off the memory of their intimacy, promptly slipping back into BADCo’s top ad executive persona. This launch party was too important for her and the Foundation. She had only one thing left to focus on and that was her career. There was work to do, people to greet, and money to make.
Banished from her mind – at least for the night but with a great deal of effort were the surfacing memories of Darcy’s moist lips against hers and the magic of his tongue. That erotic experience in the elevator up to his apartment was NOT going to sway her one way or another. How he made her feel beautiful and desired had no bearing whatsoever. None of that mattered. He had lied and deceived her and that was unacceptable.
So what if she remembered how he made her feel when he whispered that he belonged to her body and soul? So what if his playfulness and prowess in the bedroom was everything she ever dreamed? Elizabeth was sorry those memories had finally broken through the fog of morning and her hangover. And, more importantly, she was sorry she remembered how comfortable and complete she felt wrapped up with him as he loved her. It was perfect. She had felt perfect – as though she finally found home, sanctuary, and unconditional love.
Was is all a ruse or was it genuine?
Upstairs behind the calm, cool persona conveyed by his gorgeous easy smile and sexy dimples, Darcy was on pins and needles waiting to see Elizabeth. No one other than Rick and Georgiana was the wiser. Not even Anne, preoccupied as she was with the evening’s offerings on the dance floor, knew of his distress.
Mr. January, the West End Cave Captain had whet her whistle and Anne was determined to do something about it tonight. After all, she had made a transformation and felt liberated for the evening, hardly looking like the daughter of Catherine de Bourgh.
In fact, Will did a double take when he saw her on Rick’s arm entering the old firehouse turned museum. A smart-looking blonde wig complemented her dark brown eyes beautifully. Hip-hugging blue jeans and black ankle boots transformed what she knew was a matronly, chubby, unattractive woman into quite the cutie, in her humble opinion. Of course, a tweezer to her eyebrows and that mole above her lip also assisted the extreme fashion fix successfully orchestrated by her baby cousin, Georgiana.
Her mother mysteriously had a sudden attack of diarrhea from the brownies dear, sweet Anne had baked that afternoon using chocolate laxatives. Gleeful about the evening's freedom and prospects, she hardly noticed that there was no depth to Will's laugh or sparkle behind his usually vibrant blue eyes. He was a shell, a clown, putting on the face of someone who should be happy to be there.
While Georgiana danced with Mr. May to The Trammps “Disco Inferno” and Rick disappeared downstairs, Darcy and Anne stood together in the corner of the banquet room discussing Christmas.
She attempted to draw Darcy’s attention away from watching his sister flirt and move to the beat with Rodrigo, “The Rod” on the dance floor. “Georgiana told me you went with her to the cemetery today. That was very brave of you.”
“I don’t know about brave, but it was necessary. You know, I’ve been stuck in inertia for far too long. I finally had an impetus to move forward, but I had to deal with all the sorrow in my past in order to do so.”
“Hmm … I understand about inertia. Are you still planning on visiting the hospital to see the children?”
“Definitely. I’ll be there on Christmas Eve or Christmas day. I was hoping to have another assistant in addition to Georgie but that depends a lot on the outcome of tonight.”
“Why’s that?”
“Said assistant - the impetus for the cemetery visit - is someone very special to me, but things between us are sort of up in the air after a whole lot of misunderstandings.”
“You’re dating someone?”
“Not quite. That’s what I need to talk to her about.”
Elizabeth entered the main party room at the opposite end, and Darcy watched as her boss approached her. Within seconds, they were headed his way.
“And here she comes,” He said to Anne.
Anne reached over to her cousin and affectionately rested her hand on his cheek. “You’ll do fine. Look, if I could give my mother the shits, you can ask a girl for Christmas dinner. Don’t be nervous, just do it.” She kissed his cheek. “Good luck. I’ll be over there trying to score with Mr. January if you need me, k?”
She winked and Darcy laughed, unsure just who that woman was.
Funny, Elizabeth wondered the same thing, particularly when she saw Anne kiss his cheek. Another blonde. Prat. She had no excuse for jealousy wit
h the way she felt, but damn if she wasn’t green with envy.
He stood straight when they approached, feeling suddenly nervous and too timid to look Elizabeth in the eye.
Stan embraced him warmly. “Will, great to see you here tonight! So glad you could make it. I was afraid the snow would keep many away tonight.”
Stunned, Elizabeth watched the interaction between two men who were obviously more than client and professional.
“Stan! Merry Christmas! How are you? How’s Patricia?”
“She’s doing great after her knee replacement. Won’t be doing any dancing tonight, but she’s having a great time.” Stan pointed to where his wife stood and both Darcy and she fondly waved to one another.
“She looks great. We’ll have to get together in the New Year, after we get through this campaign kickoff. We have an excellent turnout tonight. I’m sure the board is pleased. I know I am.”
Elizabeth stood virtually ignored for a moment, looking around her, seeking an opportunity to escape.
“I’m enthusiastic about what we’ve accomplished for the Foundation. This’ll be the best year, thanks to Liz. I’m sorry - you remember Elizabeth Bennet, don’t you, Will? Silly question, of course you do. It was all over Eyewitness News.”
“Yes, of course I remember. I’ll never forget that day in the station. Merry Christmas, Liz.” He held out his hand to her.
She folded her arms across her chest. “Mr. Darcy.”
Stan felt the tension between the couple and chuckled. “Liz, I’d love to see you dance tonight. You’ve worked so hard putting this together. It’ll make me feel less the boss and more the friend to see my godson Will dance with my ace project manager.”
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows at the word ‘godson’. “I … um…”
Darcy locked eyes with her. His look was hopeful, almost begging.
“I insist that you dance,” Stan prodded.
“Do you dance other than on stage, Mr. Darcy?” she taunted with a raised eyebrow.
“Since it’s an activity that's been widely believed to encourage affection, I do.”