Waiting for Mr. Darcy

by Chamein Canton

  Lauren continued to stare at the entrance, hoping to see Ken walk through the door.

  “Pardon me?”

  She looked up to see a nicely attired gentleman standing next to her table. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark good looks. In fact, he was just the type of man she usually was attracted to, but she was in no mood to be hit on.

  “May I buy you another drink?”

  “No, thank you, I’m waiting for someone.”

  “Okay then. How about an appetizer while you wait?”

  Is this guy for real? “Listen, I’m waiting for my husband.”

  He smiled. “And I will extend the same offer to him. I’m Randy Rivera. This is my restaurant.”

  Lauren turned red. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were…”

  “Trying to pick you up? Not at all, although you are a very attractive woman.”

  “Thanks.” She paused. “Aren’t you the executive chef, too?”

  “Guilty. I’m usually behind the scenes, but the manager called in, so I’m front of the house tonight. Speaking of being a good host, may I ask your name?”

  “I’m Lauren Jones.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Lauren Jones.” They shook hands. “So how about that drink?”

  “Why not? I’ll have another pomegranate martini.”

  “You got it.” He called the waiter over. “She’ll have another one of these.”

  “No problem.” The waiter scurried away.

  “Do you mind if I have a seat?”

  “Please do.”

  “Thanks.” The minute he sat down, he looked as if he’d taken a load off. “I thought it was tough being on my feet in the kitchen, but the front of house is no picnic either.”

  The waiter brought her martini back.

  “Thank you.” She took another sip. “It’s good.”

  There was awkward silence between them.

  “Are you hungry? We have the best tapas.”

  “I know.”

  The sound of a little commotion grabbed their attention.

  “I wonder what’s going on,” Randy said as he strained to see.

  There was Ken signing autographs with a group of people around him. At six feet, five inches and 275 pounds it was hard not to miss him, surrounded by fans or not.

  “It looks like my husband is here.” She beamed.

  “You’re married to Kenneth Jones? I’m a big fan of his. He’s one of my favorite defensive tackles.”

  “Mine, too.”

  Randy stood up as Ken approached. “Mr. Jones, I’m a big fan.”

  “Thanks.” He smiled and shook his hand. Kenneth looked good in his custom-made Armani suit. He bent over and kissed Lauren on the cheek. “You look great, babe. Is that a new dress?”

  “Thanks, and as a matter of fact, it is new. You like it?”

  “It looks great on you.”

  Randy held the chair for Ken. “Can I get you something from the bar, Mr. Jones?”

  “I’ll have a scotch, neat.”

  “Coming right up. I hope you two have a pleasant evening. Enjoy.”

  “Thank you.” Lauren grinned like a schoolgirl.

  Randy walked away. A minute later the waiter returned with Ken’s drink.

  Ken took a gulp and set the glass down. “You look good, Lauren.”

  “You already said that but I won’t complain.”

  Ken fidgeted in his seat.

  Lauren found it endearing. “What’s the matter, Kenneth? You look as nervous as you did on our first date.”

  “Do I?”

  “Yes. It was cute then and it’s still cute.” She sipped her martini.

  Ken rubbed his forehead. “I guess there’s no easy way to do this.”

  “Easy way to do what?”

  He reached into his pocket, pulled out an envelope and put it in front of her on the table.

  “What’s this?”

  “Divorce papers.”

  Lauren’s heart fell. “What?”

  “It’s been a year since the legal separation and now I’d like to proceed with the divorce.” He waited for a response from Lauren, but she was dumbfounded. “All the terms are still the same. You can have the apartment lock, stock, and barrel. You don’t have to buy me out. I think that’s only fair.”

  “Do you?” she asked, still stunned.

  “Yes. We had our moments but it didn’t work out. I have no hard feelings.”

  “So what is it you want in return?”

  “It’s in the papers.” He pointed to the envelope.

  “I don’t want to look at the damn papers, Kenneth, just tell me.” She tried to control her anger.

  “All you have to do is sign off on the no spousal support clause and we’re done.”

  “That’s stated in the prenup agreement I signed before we got married.”

  “You know how lawyers are. They have to prove they’re earning their fee.” He gave her a weak smile.

  Lauren tore open the envelope and unfolded the document. “Do you have a pen?”

  “Don’t you want to read it?”

  “You’re kidding me, right? It’s obvious you invited me to this romantic setting so I wouldn’t make a scene. Well, you’re getting your wish. Give me a damn pen before I change my mind and start bucking for the cover of the New York Post.”

  Ken handed her a pen.

  Lauren quickly signed it and threw the pen down. “Are you happy now?”

  “Of course I’m not happy. My lawyer told me to use a process server but I thought you deserved to hear it from me directly.”

  “Why? So you could see my humiliation up close and personal?”

  “No. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked you here.” He put the envelope in his jacket.

  “You think?” she asked sarcastically. “You’re a real piece of work, Kenneth.”

  That was Ken’s cue to get up. “I’m sorry. I know you don’t believe me but it’s the truth. Dinner is on me tonight.”

  “That’s the least you can do.” Lauren felt herself choking up.

  When Ken tried to kiss her on the cheek, she turned away. “I am sorry, Lauren. You’re a great lady. You deserve better than me.” He walked away.

  Lauren sat in stunned silence. How could I have been so stupid? I’m such a fool.

  Randy walked over. “Will your husband be coming back to order?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. You’re stuck with little old me.”

  Although he didn’t know her personally, Randy could see something was different. “Is everything okay?”

  She gulped down her martini. “Everything’s just fine. Can I get another one of these?”

  “Sure.” He stopped a waitress who was carrying a tray of martinis and took one off. “Just get another one for your table and tell them this round is on the house.”

  “Okay, boss.”

  “Here you go.”

  “Now that’s what I call service.” She took a big gulp.

  “How about some appetizers, something to wash it down?” He smiled.

  “You’re the chef. I’ll follow your lead.”

  He called the waiter back over. “Trey, we’ll have the pincho de datiles and patatas bravas.

  “Don’t forget another martini. I’m almost finished with this one.” Lauren was beginning to get a buzz.

  “Yes, bring her another drink and a seltzer with a twist.”

  “I’ll have you know I can handle a few martinis. I’m not a 110-pound model who gets drunk from fumes. I’m a big girl, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “All I see is a beautiful woman who deserves to have a good time. The seltzer is for me. I’m still working.”

  She smiled.

  “Now that’s more like it.”

  “Don’t you have to run your restaurant? You shouldn’t be babysitting patrons.”

  “What’s the point of being the boss if I can’t switch it up every now and then? Someone else will just have to take over my duties for a l
ittle while.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Are you staying for dinner?”

  Lauren looked at her watch. “Sure. I don’t have any place to go, except for my apartment.” Her martini buzz was fast becoming a martini haze. “I’ll have you know I have a great big three-bedroom apartment and it’s all mine.”

  “Terrific.”

  “It was a real bargain, too. You know what it cost me?”

  “No, I don’t.”

  “My dignity, that’s all. It doesn’t get any cheaper than that.”

  Trey brought the drinks back.

  Randy raised his glass. “Here’s to you and what I hope is a new friendship.”

  They put their glasses together. “Cheers,” Lauren said as she sipped her martini. Here’s hoping the martinis can cover my humiliation or at least get me drunk enough so I don’t notice it anymore. Ken may be retired, but he still knows how to get a quality sack. I didn’t see it coming.

  Chapter 2

  Seated at the island in her kitchen, Alicia chopped vegetables for the salad, while Harrison set the table in the atrium. Gabby decided to go for a little walk on the grounds before dinner.

  ”Has the sorbet set?”

  “I made it yesterday. It should be fine.”

  Suddenly Gabby burst into the kitchen from the backyard, out of breath. “Oh my God!”

  Alicia was alarmed. “What’s wrong, Gabby? What happened?”

  Gabby collected herself. “Dogs. I just saw two of the biggest rottweilers I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Dogs? On my property?”

  Harrison looked up. “Nathaniel has two dogs.”

  Alicia looked disgusted. “I’m not home one day yet and he’s already terrorizing the neighborhood.” She got up and took her apron off.

  “Where are you going?” Harrison asked.

  “I’m going to get a leash.”

  “Don’t you mean two leashes?” Gabby asked, puzzled.

  “No, I mean one leash. It’s not for the dogs.” She picked up her cane.

  “The dogs are still on the loose, Alicia,” Harrison warned.

  “I know, but my cane is pretty heavy.”

  “You’re taking your cane outside?” Harrison asked pointedly.

  “No. I’d like to, though.” She put it back.

  “The dogs didn’t chase me. They just scared me, that’s all,” Gabby noted.

  “Don’t worry, Gabby, if I did take my cane outside, the dogs wouldn’t be my target.” She walked out the glass door and made a beeline for Nathaniel’s.

  Nathaniel put the dogs on their leashes as Alicia walked over.

  “Better late than never, I guess, Mr. Becker.”

  Alicia and Nathaniel made a game of referring to one another by their surnames, which definitely had a certain Pride and Prejudice quality to it that didn’t go unnoticed by Alicia.

  “Well, if it isn’t Scarsdale’s own diva of domesticity. How nice to see you, Ms. Archer.”

  “I’d like to say the same, except you’ve managed to scare my company to death with your dogs.”

  “Rocky and Bull? They wouldn’t hurt a fly. They’re just stretching their legs.”

  “Mr. Becker, they’re rottweilers, not lap dogs, and they scare the crap out of people.”

  “Why Ms. Archer, such language. What would your viewers think?”

  “Grow up!” she huffed.

  He chuckled.

  “Do me a favor and use the leash.” She looked him over. “And don’t forget one for yourself.”

  “Nice return, Ms. Archer.”

  “By the way, what brings you back to Scarsdale this summer? I thought you preferred summering in some European or Mediterranean hideaway.”

  “I’m not exactly an expatriate, Ms. Archer. I do enjoy living in the good old USA.”

  “I see. I guess you were caught diddling someone’s wife or girlfriend in international waters and decided to lay low.” She snickered.

  “You wound me, Ms. Archer.” He feigned being shot in the heart.

  “Oh please, Mr. Becker, you don’t have a heart, remember? That’s what you told me. Or did you pick one up in the duty-free shop on the way back to the States?”

  “Still as sharp as ever, Ms. Archer. You know it turns me on when you mix just the right amount of reserve, disdain and raw animal attraction,” he said seductively.

  Alicia shook her head in disgust. “You’re incorrigible.” She turned on her heel. “Just remember to keep the dogs away from my property.”

  “So does that mean they can’t cool off in your pool?” he called after her.

  “Put a sock in it, Mr. Becker,” she called back.

  Smiling, Nathaniel watched her as she stormed back to her house.

  A minute later, she was back in the kitchen. “The man is a menace.”

  “He really gets under your skin, doesn’t he?”

  “The man is a Neanderthal, Gabby.”

  “I see.”

  “What do you see?”

  “Why are you getting so testy? I’m just saying…”

  “I’ve known you since we were fourteen so I know that tone. You might as well say it.”

  “I seem to remember another Neanderthal that got under your skin.”

  “Oh, no, you don’t. Kurt wasn’t anything like this guy.”

  “ ‘Methinks the lady doth protest too much,’ that’s all I’m saying. Am I right, Harrison?”

  “Leave me out of it.”

  “Smart man, Harrison.”

  “That’s okay, Harrison, I’ve got your back. Alicia knows she married the last man who got under her skin like this.”

  “Enough already.” Alicia was clearly vexed. “Let’s change the subject, shall we?”

  “Fine with me.”

  “How’s your Fifteen to Watch new artist exhibit and reception coming along?”

  “It’s coming along, and this year there will be Sixteen to Watch.”

  “Sixteen?”

  “Yes.”

  “You know Victor’s going to throw a fit.”

  Interior designer Victor Long had worked with Gabby on setting up the gallery from its inception and was involved in staging every exhibition within an inch of total perfection. At forty-one he was one of the most sought-after interior designers in New York. Victor was a combination of Project Runway’s Tim Gunn and Michael Kors and Flipping Out’s Jeff Lewis. Most people needed half a Xanax just to speak with him over the phone.

  “I know. He’ll get over it,” Gabby said dismissively.

  “Must have been some painting.”

  “It was.” Gabby had a little twinkle in her eye.

  “Scratch that. It looks like the artist caught your attention more than the work.”

  “Why would you say that?”

  “It’s written all over your face.”

  “Shouldn’t you be checking on the steaks or something?”

  “Harrison, would you do the honors for me?”

  “No problem.” He went outside to the grill.

  “We’re covered. Now spill it.”

  “There’s nothing to tell. His name is Nigel Clark and he brought a canvas he’d painted of West African street life in a port city.”

  “Uh-huh. What did this Mr. Clark look like?”

  Gabby looked lost in thought for a minute. “He was tall, muscular and clean shaven. He came in dressed to impress in an expensive Italian suit, which kind of threw me for a loop, since I’m used to more Bohemian-looking artists.”

  “I see he made an impression on you.”

  “The painting was amazing,” she protested.

  “So was the painting tattooed on his head or something?”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “He was cute.” Alicia winked.

  Harrison came back in with the steaks. “All done.”

  “Terrific. Saved by the dinner bell.” Gabby was relieved.

  “Aren’t you lucky?” Alicia handed her the salad
bowl. “Can you put this on the table, please?”

  Gabby placed the bowl on the table and then Harrison seated them.

  “The steaks look and smell divine. Too bad Lauren isn’t here.”

  “Don’t feel too bad for her. She’s having dinner at Ricardo’s.”

  “Wow. I’ve heard good things about that place. Getting a reservation is a bear, though. How did she manage one?”

  “Ken got it. It’s one of the perks of being a former NFL player.”

  “Do you think he wants to get back together?”

  “To be honest I don’t think so, but I could be wrong.” Alicia sipped her water.

  Gabby picked up her bag and began rifling through it.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “My calendar. I want to mark the day Alicia Archer said she could be wrong.”

  “Ha, ha. I’m not that bad.”

  “I’m just teasing you.”

  Harrison put his fork down. “So which movie is it going to be, ladies? Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park or Emma?”

  “Lauren isn’t here. Should we watch a movie?” Gabby asked.

  “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

  Gabby looked at Harrison. “You must think we’re pathetic,” she laughed.

  “No, not at all.”

  “And even if he did think we’re pathetic, he wouldn’t tell us. Isn’t that right, Harrison?”

  “I plead the fifth.”

  “You’re batting a thousand tonight.” Alicia smiled.

  “You’d think that now that we have the money, power and, dare I say it, the celebrity, we’d be out partying every weekend to make up for all the weekends we spent pouring over Austen novels in high school. Yet even though the digs are way better than the dorms, we’re still nerds sitting at home on a Friday night.”

  “Well, at least one of us is out having a good time.” Alicia lifted her glass. “Here’s to Lauren. I hope she’s having fun.”

  * * *

  Lauren quickly threw all her clothes on the floor and wrapped her arms around Randy’s neck as he lifted her onto the bed. Her body pulsated with anticipation as he lowered his body onto hers. She wrapped her legs around him and their bodies began to rock. Her inhibitions were released and they made feverish love over and over throughout the night. Lauren was having fun. Whether she’d remember it in the morning was another matter entirely.

  Chapter 3