The Proud and the Prejudiced: A Modern Twist on Pride and Prejudice

by Colette Saucier

  “Really? Then we’ll have to exchange stories.”

  “Oh, absolutely!” she said and laughed.

  “How about Saturday night? Dinner.”

  She blinked back her surprise and shook her head. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

  “If you have to ask, then maybe I’m doing it wrong.” His gaze moved to her mouth then back to her eyes. “I’m sorry. Of course, I should have known you’d have a boyfriend or fiancé or something.”

  “No, no, there’s no one. It’s just…” Just what? You idiot. This gorgeous guy just asked you out! Plus, Peter hates him, so that’s got to be a plus. “Yeah, sure. I’d like that.”

  Alice hadn’t been out on a date-date since she wrote Blaine off the show and out of her life. When she had broken things off with him, she thought he would have been more professional than to ask to leave All My Tomorrows, and she decided then not to become romantically involved with any of the primary cast again. Now here she was, breaking her own rule with yet another boyfriend for Sienna. Well, it’s just one dinner. I’ll just wait and see.

  Alice liked this part, the getting-to-know-you dance where all the stories are new and there’s no history of hurt feelings hanging just overhead. They talked and laughed and drank, and ate dinner in there somewhere. She earned his laughter when she told him about Peter throwing a fit when he found out about the brother-sister twist, but she omitted the precipitating events leading up to it.

  “He is not thrilled to be on a soap as it is,” she said.

  “Oh, I imagine he thinks soap operas are beneath him.”

  “You do know him, don’t you? So what’s his problem with you?”

  “We were working on a film together last year – would have been my largest role, possibly a break-out. I displeased him, and the next thing I know, I’m off the picture.”

  “What did you do to offend him?”

  He stared into his wine glass as he rolled it between his hands. “I can’t think it is a good idea to discuss one woman when I am out with another.”

  Her eyes widened and her chest rose with a swift intake of air. “You fought over a woman?”

  “Not exactly. I didn’t know it at the time – especially since he was married – but after the story broke about him and Winnie, I realized that was why he got rid of me. I had something he wanted.”

  “You and Winnie Johnson were together?” That did cause him to drop a bit in her estimation.

  “That’s just it, see. We had only gone out a few times. I have no idea if it would have developed into something, but he made sure it didn’t.”

  “I can’t believe he got you fired from the movie.”

  “He’s the star. I don’t have any proof of it, but I think he has kept me from getting work in primetime, too, at least on this network.”

  “I knew he was an arrogant, womanizing ass, but I had no idea he could be so vindictive. Well, at least COD is on hiatus. Winnie had been hanging out at the set all the time – that would have been awkward.”

  Rich gulped down the rest of his wine. “Well, let’s not let him dominate our evening. I’m sure we both have more interesting stories.”

  “Agreed.”

  After dinner and several nightcaps, Rich brought her home and walked her to the door.

  “I-uh-I’m not going to ask you in. I had a great time, but I don’t think we should…”

  “I understand. I don’t think we should rush into anything either, but I’d like to take you out again, if that’s OK.”

  “Yes, I’d like that. You have my number.”

  They stood under the light over her door looking at each other until he touched her cheek and pushed some hair behind her ear, leaned down, and brought his lips to hers. Sweet, moist, and tender.

  He pulled back and ran his finger down her face to her bottom lip. “I’ll call you?”

  She nodded and said goodnight. Once inside, she set down her purse and kicked off her shoes when her cell phone began to vibrate. She didn’t recognize the number, but she answered anyway.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s Rich. I was wondering if you were busy Wednesday night.”

  *****

  Sienna – (still sniffing) Thank you. You have been so kind to me, Father…”

  Raife – No, not Father yet. I am a religious Brother.

  Sienna – (slight laugh) Yet another brother.

  Raife – Just call me Raife.

  (Tag Sienna smiling)

  “Cut. Print.”

  Mr. Peacock’s words were followed by a buzzer and the crew stepping away from the set as Alice and Jack walked toward Rich and Giselle, respectively.

  Rich met Alice with a grin as he tugged off his clerical collar. “So how long do I have to wear this thing?”

  “Well, Giselle cannot be the only reason that Raife doesn’t become ordained. That wouldn’t look good if she came between you and God. We have to make it clear that you are not cut out for the clergy.”

  He leaned closer to her. “I’m sure I can convince you that’s true.”

  She smiled up at him and at the pleasure she found in flirting. That was the other problem with the script. Each time she began writing a romantic scene for Raife and Sienna, she would picture Rich with her instead.

  She caught a form from the corner of her eye and glanced over. Peter glowered at them from off set with a pronounced frown.

  “He really does hate you,” Alice said. “Every time I look up, he is glaring at you. If he keeps creasing his eyebrows like that, he’s going to get wrinkles.”

  “I’m surprised he can move them at all with all that Botox.”

  She faced Rich again when she giggled so Peter wouldn’t know she was laughing at him. Suspect, perhaps. “Do you really think he uses Botox?”

  “This is Hollywood. I was about to go out for a cigarette. Join me?”

  “I didn’t know you smoked.”

  “Occasionally. Do you?”

  “No, but I-uh-was thinking of starting.”

  “Starting? You’re kidding.”

  “But with electronic cigarettes.”

  They both began giggling then, and Rich glanced over at Peter before taking her hand. “Come on. I’m tired of Lord Voldemort staring me down.”

  *****

  “Alice,” Peter called out from his make-up chair. She stopped and faced him but didn’t approach. She refused to be summoned to join the bevy of females floating around him. As soon as he seemed to realize that, he stood and walked to her with script in hand.

  “Is there something you can do for me, Mr. Walsingham?”

  “Uh…yes. I wanted to discuss this scene I have with my sister. Clarissa.”

  She released an aggravated sigh. Now what?

  “Could we speak somewhere more private?” he asked. “Your office perhaps?”

  She shrugged and led the way, and he closed her office door behind them. She faced him with her arms folded across her chest.

  “So what’s the problem now? The plot? The dialog?”

  “No, I’ve given up on that. I was just thinking that this is momentous information Tristan is sharing with Clarissa. I don’t think he would discuss it with her in a hospital cafeteria.”

  “We’ve had too many scenes in her living room already. She’s a brain surgeon; she has to spend some time in the hospital.”

  “But even to discuss the script, I asked if we could speak in private. She is a neurosurgeon. She should have her own office at the hospital.”

  He did have a point. “We do have a doctor’s office around here somewhere. This is really going to piss off all the extras in that scene.”

  “Maybe we could start in the cafeteria and move to her office. Here, let me show you.” He opened the script and handed it to her and then, coming behind her to read over her shoulder, pointed out the section. “We could go ahead and keep all this...”

  He spoke low, his breath against her ear, and his nearness disconcerted her. Her alre
ady-tiny office continued to shrink around them. Is he sniffing my hair?

  Focus! “And, uh, right here she could say something like, ‘We should discuss this in private. Let’s go to my office.’” He smelled good. Under the aromas of make-up and hairspray and soundstage, she could detect a spiciness that reminded her of pumpkin pie and yet somehow masculine. Warm and familiar, like holidays at home.

  “Yes, exactly,” he said softly against her neck.

  She flinched then turned around to face him and took a step back. She waited for her heart to start beating again before speaking. “I...um...I like it. I’ll talk to Mr. Peacock.” When he didn’t make a move to go and continued to stare, she asked, “Is there something else?”

  “Yes. I wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day. I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I’m lucky my fit didn’t go viral on the Internet.”

  “OK.”

  “There’s no denying Rich and I have a history, and his appearance took me by surprise.”

  “He was quite shocked to see you as well.”

  “Do you know him? Is that how he got the part?”

  “I have nothing to do with casting. You should know that. I hadn’t met him before that day.”

  “Well, you’ve certainly become friendly with him quickly,” he said, his tone turning sharp.

  Her mouth dropped open, and she shoved the script into his chest before walking around to the other side of her desk. “I am friends with many members of the cast. And you’re one to talk! You’ve become friends with your harem pretty fast.”

  Peter took a deep breath in preparation for his retort, but then he just exhaled and shook his head. “I don’t want to argue with you, Alice. Just keep in mind that people are not always what they seem.”

  “Thanks, but I think I figured that out some time ago.”

  CHAPTER 8

  The cast and crew gathered together at the hospital set stared at Mrs. Jellyby – slight smile, bright dress – as if doubting the veracity of her speech.

  “And thanks to the bump in ratings during sweeps, ALL of the affiliates’ advertisers have renewed!” As the cast and crew cheered, she raised her voice to add, “And we owe it all to Peter Walsingham!”

  More like the network executives who forced him here. Alice glanced at Peter on the far side of the set to see how he reacted to the din of excited appreciation now aimed at him, but he just stood there with the beginnings of a smile at the corner of his lips staring in her direction.

  “I think this calls for a celebration,” Mr. Peacock said over the noise.

  “A party,” someone suggested and others agreed.

  “It must be this weekend,” Mrs. Jellyby said. “Our guest of honor must leave us next week, and we cannot celebrate without him.”

  As the others bounced around ideas, Peter walked to center stage next to Mrs. Jellyby. “I would like to offer my home for the celebration,” he said, evoking unanimous shock as well as flustering Mrs. Jellyby.

  “But, no, you’re the guest of honor.”

  “If I truly am responsible for this, then I should take responsibility for the celebration as well.” He faced Alice when making this illogical pronouncement, as if it were her decision.

  The crew called out requests like children planning their birthday party.

  “A band!”

  “No, there’s no time to book one.”

  “I think a band can be arranged,” Peter said.

  Why does he keep staring at me like that? She decided to up the ante. “What about an eighties cover band.” Let’s see him pull that out of his ass.

  He smiled at her. “Whatever you want.”

  After a quick knock on her door, Rich came in before she could respond.

  “Where were you?” she asked. “You missed the big announcement.”

  “I heard – great news!” He stepped around the desk and sat on the edge of it next to Alice.

  “I suppose you also heard about the party. Are you going to come even though it’s at Peter’s house?”

  “They did say all the cast and crew were invited, and that includes me. Why should I miss out? It’s his problem, not mine.” He leaned over and brought his lips onto hers before she could protest against kissing at work. “See you tonight?”

  She nodded, and he kissed her again. Oh, what the hell. Then he stood up and walked out, closing the door behind him.

  That night after their date, Alice and Rich stood once again under the lamp over her front door.

  “I don’t suppose I make it across the threshold tonight?”

  “No, sorry. Maid’s day off – the place is a mess.”

  “Hmm. So when do you think the maid will come clean?”

  “Not sure yet. She’s new, and we’re taking things slow.”

  He stepped closer, putting his hands on her waist, and kissed her, pulling gently at her lower lip with his teeth and awakening every nerve in her body.

  “So,” she said, “you’re definitely coming to Peter’s party, I mean, the cast party?”

  “Of course. But I’ll have to meet you there. I have to drive out to Malibu to help a friend move some stuff.”

  “But you will be there.”

  “You think I would miss an opportunity to see Lord Voldemort’s castle?”

  She closed her eyes as they kissed again, and at his lips urging, she opened her mouth. She put her arms around his neck, and his tongue touched hers. Peter.

  Her eyes flew open. Peter? What the hell? Why would I think of Peter while I am kissing Rich? I really like Rich. And I can’t stand Peter. It’s probably because we were just talking about him. Yeah, that’s it.

  Her confused brain distracted her from her present situation until a hand on her breast alerted her to the tongue in her mouth, and she broke the kiss and stepped back to face a red-faced, panting Rich.

  “Wow,” he said. “That was some kiss. You sure I can’t come in?”

  Uh-oh. “Sorry, not tonight. Goodnight,” she said as one word and escaped behind her door before he could react.

  *****

  Alice would not describe Peter’s house in the Hollywood Hills as a castle – more of a palace. Palatial could be the only word appropriate for the tastefully decorated mansion. She tried not to gawk up toward the high ceiling and around at the expanse of marble tiles and all the rich furnishings, which brought to mind the Bellagio. She had arrived late, since she came alone and wanted to ensure at least most of the others would already be there; and when no one came when she knocked and rang, she had let herself in only to stand by herself on the other side of the door. She could hear music in the distance but not clear enough to determine the direction.

  “I had begun to think you wouldn’t come.”

  Alice turned to Peter’s voice behind her. “I…uh. Sorry.” Why am I apologizing?

  “I was afraid that…well, you did come. If you’d like to leave your things in the cloakroom, I’ll take you out to the others.”

  “Ah, well, aren’t you the perfect host. Don’t you have a butler or something?”

  She dropped off her purse – Really? A cloakroom? – and he walked with her through a maze until they arrived at a large room filled with guests spilling out to the pool area. Peter grabbed two crystal flutes from the tray of a passing waiter and handed her one of them.

  He touched his glass to hers with a ting. “Congratulations.”

  She sipped then asked, “Why are you congratulating me? You have achieved what you came here to do, or rather what the network sent you to do.”

  “No, the novelty of having me on the show might have brought in a few viewers, but it’s your storylines that kept them hooked. I still think they are ludicrous,” he said with a smile, “but clearly you know your audience. So here’s to a team effort.”

  He touched his glass to hers again, and as she drank, the music caught her attention. At first she had thought a DJ must be out there, but now she could see the stage on the far side of the
extensive patio. He had done it – an eighties cover band.

  “The band,” she managed to sputter out. “How?”

  “You said that was what you wanted.”

  She lifted her eyes to his, and something about them disturbed her. She suddenly felt nervous, as if she had lost something, or there was something she had forgotten to do.

  Her breathing grew labored as she took another sip, his gaze falling to her mouth then back to her eyes.

  Butterscotch schnapps.

  Then she remembered. Rich. As late as she had arrived, he must already be there. She glanced around the room but didn’t see him.

  “Are you looking for someone?” Peter’s tone had taken an edge since his toasts.

  “Yes, is…is Eileen here yet?”

  Peter drank the rest of his champagne in one swallow. “Yes, she’s by the pool. I’ll show you.”

  “No, thanks. I’ll find her.”

  She rushed in among the other guests, often being forced to stop to greet her co-workers and their dates or mates. The pool had lilies with candles floating on its surface. A few people were dancing on the patio out by the band, with tiny white lights strung over the makeshift dance floor. He had done it all at a moment’s notice; and with the beauty and perfection he had arranged here on Earth, she would not have been surprised if he had ordered the stars twinkling in the black sky as well. Must be nice to have that kind of money.

  One thing she did not find, however, was any sign of Rich. Eileen waved to her from beside the bar.

  “I’ve been wondering when you’d get here.”

  “I just walked in the door. Have you seen Rich?” Alice asked, still searching through the guests. “Could he be dancing?”

  “No, I don’t think he’s here yet. I was just out by the band and didn’t see him.”

  “I thought he’d be here by now.”

  “Maybe he didn’t want to come since he and Peter are not exactly friends.”

  “No, he said that was Peter’s problem, not his.”

  “You’re really into Rich. Aren’t you?”

  “Well, yeah! He’s a hottie! Don’t tell you’re interested in him.”