by E. S. Carter
“I couldn’t—”
“Yes,” Eliza stopped her and took one of Jane’s hands that she’d begun to twist together anxiously. “Yes, you can.”
Jane took a deep breath to steady her nerves and replied, “I’ll think about it.”
Eliza gave her another small smile knowing damned well that Jane would do no such thing, but that was okay because what Jane didn’t know was that Eliza had already reached out to the eldest Austen
brother with a proposal of her own.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: The Bennet Group Acquisition Proposal
Mr Austen,
I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the possibility of The Bennet Group acquiring Austen’s for a fair price, in a deal to suit both parties.
In vain, I have struggled with this decision, but feel it a necessary concession due to our family’s recent union. We are both aware of the divide between our families and our companies, and I take no great pleasure in the nature of our union, but it cannot be denied. Therefore, a mutually beneficial deal would be conducive to bridging both our societal gap—by offering your family a way to raise their social standing and clear their debts—and our personal differences.
My assistant awaits your call of acceptance. I would much prefer this deal to be a private affair and handled quickly.
Kindest regards
Eliza Bennet
Darcy read and reread the email dozens of times, and on each occasion, his temper boiled until his anger bubbled over.
“The cheek of the woman! How bloody dare she deem that doing business with me is a concession? I have not, nor will I ever request her help with anything, least of all Austen’s.”
Darcy pushed up from his desk and paced the floor on the opposite side of the room to where Bing looked at him with growing concern.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh and a touch judgemental?” Bing asked honestly. “Miss Bennet’s offer is more than we’d ever get from anyone else.”
“It is not her offer that has aggrieved me. It’s the manner in which she presented it,” Darcy gritted out through his teeth. “She talks like we’re beneath her, and not worthy of her acquaintance let alone her company’s aid.”
“I don’t think she—”
“Don’t, Bing,” Darcy stopped his pacing and stared his brother dead in the eyes. “Don’t justify her ego, arrogance and conceit. Eliza is not your Jane.”
At that, Bing closed his mouth and said no more.
“Have you heard from Wick?” Darcy asked after a minute of uncomfortable silence.
“No, not directly. He sent a text to father from an unknown number but didn’t say when or if he was coming home. You know how terribly wronged mother feels at being deprived of the pomp and ceremony of a big wedding.”
“Like father could afford to pay for one even if they hadn’t eloped,” Darcy added in disdain. Not for his father but for his youngest brother and new bride.
“True, but mother won’t hear any of that.”
“Well, with Wick gone I think it’s time to make a decision. The company can’t go on the way it is, and I gave him six months to come up with something, but seeing as he’s not here, I think we need to set up a meeting and get everyone in agreement to sell.”
Bing’s eyes widened. “To TBG? But I thought you said—”
“I wouldn’t sell my used toothbrush to TBG. No, we’ll find another buyer. It’s time for us to move forward and this is the only way.”
“So are you going to reply to Eliza’s email?” Bing asked, adding quickly, “Because if you are, I’d really appreciate you asking for Jane’s contact details. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it sooner, but I can hardly show up at TBG with a bunch of flowers and hope that she’s there. I’ll look like a stalker.”
Darcy barked out a laugh and shook his head in amusement.
“Thanks but no thanks, Eliza. You can shove your condescending offer where the sun doesn’t shine. Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind sending me your sister’s number so my brother can court her, that’d be great.”
“You don’t have to word it quite that way,” Bing said, his lips quirking up slightly.
“Oh, and how would you have me wording it?” Darcy questioned, eyebrows raised.
“How about not bothering to reply at all?”
Bing and Darcy both swivelled their heads to the doorway where Wick stood in a brand-new Tom Ford suit, looking every inch a man of wealth and power. He had one hand in his trouser pocket and was leaning against the door frame as if he’d been enjoying the show for quite some time.
“Look what the cat dragged in. How kind of you to join us, Mr Bennet,” Darcy mocked. “Did your owner let you off her leash for a few hours?”
Wick grinned wolfishly.
“My owner? It’s funny you should say that.”
Wick pushed off from the door frame and called over his shoulder, “My love. The senior partners are ready to do business with us. Why don’t you come and let me formally introduce you?”
Wick stepped away to the side to make room for Lydia Bennet—now Austen— to sashay her way into Darcy’s office. Dressed to kill in a form-fitting red dress, matching red lips and the ubiquitous red-soled, patent leather shoes, Lydia looked like the ultimate femme fatale.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” she purred. “My husband tells me, now that I’m part owner of this little family business, that you may be looking to divest yourselves of your share.”
She sauntered towards Darcy’s desk and proceeded to make herself comfortable in his chair. Those red soles flashed at him like a rag to a bull when she propped her feet up on his desk and relaxed back into his seat.
Her eyes flickered to the open screen of his laptop, and her face broke into a maleficent smile.
“Well, well, well. It seems I’m not the only Bennet sister making offers today.”
Lydia flicked her intense blue eyes—made even more startling by their kohl-lined lids—from the screen filled with her sister’s email to Darcy.
“So are you going to go with Eliza’s, what did she call it?” Her eyes moved back to the screen. “Ah, yes, ‘necessary concession.’”
She brought her eyes back to his, and Darcy had to admit to himself that Wick had married a truly beautiful woman, but the gleam in her eyes also told him she was more than a handful.
“Or would you like to hear a far less condescending offer from someone who is more than happy to be in your acquaintance? One that will be mutually beneficial to all parties.”
Darcy looked from Lydia to Wick and then Bing, taking in each of their faces, and wondering how the hell he’d suddenly become the Bennet sister’s bitch.
“How about,” he began, walking towards Lydia who remained lounged in his seat. “You get your shoes off my desk.” He swatted her feet off the surface, knocking some papers and a few pens to the floor in the process. “And stop trying to play me like you played my little brother.”
Lydia let out a squawk as her feet hit the floor with a thud, and carried by the momentum, she slipped down awkwardly in the chair. Scrambling to right herself, she glared fireballs at Darcy, and he waited to spontaneously combust at the ire in her stare.
“I wouldn’t play games with me if I were you,” Lydia smirked, the blue of her eyes turning steely. “Unless, of course, you wish to be left with only Eliza’s offer on the table.”
Darcy took a self-assured step forward, and Lydia sat even straighter, her spine rigid and her eyes flinty.
“As my brother’s wife, I will allow you more leeway than others, but do not mistake me for my brother. I am not easily manipulated or enticed.”
Lydia’s face hardened. Her pretty features pinching into something unattractive.
“And it would serve you well to know that I am not my sister. As you already know—” she flicked a smug glance over at Wick who had been happy to let h
is new wife do all the talking “—I go after what I want, and I get it. My husband has promised me a business, and that’s exactly what I’ll get. So, choose, brother dearest. Do you wish to do a deal with me today, or would you rather grovel to Eliza?”
Chapter Nineteen
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Re- The Bennet Group Acquisition Proposal
Miss Bennet,
With a proposal such as yours, I believe it is expected that I offer the obligatory sentiments of gratitude, but in this case, I find I cannot.
Let me say this, and this alone. You could not have made me an offer for Austen’s that I would ever have been tempted to accept.
Yours
Darcy Austen
P.S. Bing kindly requests Jane’s number.
P.P.S. I asked that favour under duress.
Eliza’s initial reaction to Darcy’s reply was to laugh, which she did for almost a full five minutes, but then she reread the main section of his email and decided that she could decipher his tone from those four lines of type. He was a pompous arse. Nothing unusual for Darcy but she thought after their last evening in Vegas where they shared a moment, and the generosity of the offer she made him would have, at the very least, earned her some politeness.
Unwilling to dwell on his email, and because her fingers were itching to type out a shitty reply, Eliza grabbed her phone and dialled Jane instead. As much as she was trying to refrain from responding, if Jane wanted Bing to have her number, Eliza would send it.
“Hey, would you like the good news or the great news?” Eliza asked her sister without greeting.
“Uh, shall we go with the great news first?” Jane replied perplexed.
“Bing has requested your phone number,” Eliza stated bluntly, her smile genuine at the sound of Jane’s sharp intake of breath.
“And the good news?” Jane asked attempting to ignore the way her stomach flipped at her sister’s words.
“I made Darcy an offer for his family business, and he turned me down.”
“Why is that good news?”
“Because,” Eliza began, her feet pushing her chair around so she could take in the view out of her windows. “Austen’s is dead in the water. I only made my offer as an olive branch of sorts, but he turned me down, in quite a shitty way actually.”
Jane didn’t offer a reply, and after a moment of silence Eliza turned back to face her desk and saw a smiling Jane standing in her doorway with her phone pressed to her ear.
“What are you thinking?”
Jane’s mouth hitched up at the corners, and her eyes widened a fraction. “You like him, don’t you?”
“What? Why would you think that?” Eliza asked a little too outraged.
“Oh, my goodness. You do. You’ve got a crush on Darcy Austen.” Jane disconnected their call and all but bounced into her sister’s office.
Eliza rolled her eyes. “This isn’t boarding school, Jane. I do not have a crush on anyone.”
Jane smirked and mocked Eliza by making a W with her fingers and mouthing ‘Whatever’ in an over exaggerated teen way.
Eliza couldn’t help but laugh. It was good to see Jane coming back out of her shell, and likely all because of Bing’s request. Which made Eliza squint her eyes devilishly and say, “Huh, I guess you don’t want me to pass on your details after all.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“No? And yet here you are trying to get me to admit to a schoolgirl crush just to push my buttons. That’s not the behaviour of someone who really wants her favourite sister to play matchmaker. Maybe I’ll delete the—”
“Don’t you dare,” Jane interrupted, rushing forward at the same time as Eliza to grab at her laptop.
Eliza got there first and snapped the lid closed, a smug grin stretching across her face.
Jane huffed, wisps of her hair fluttering on the puff of air, and then she surprised Eliza by stepping back with a shrug and saying, “I already have a town car booked to take me to Austen’s head offices. So, you can keep your email information and your secret crush. I’ll give him my number in person.”
Eliza was rendered speechless. Jane never pursued a man. She was too timid, too unsure, too guarded to ever take things into her own hands and go after someone she wanted in this way.
“You’re really going to do this?” Eliza asked, but Jane didn’t have the chance to answer because George buzzed through on the intercom to tell her that her twelve o’clock appointment had arrived, and her sister chose that moment to sneak out while Eliza’s focus was elsewhere. The move told Eliza that Jane was nervous about her decision to pursue Bing and that she was still willing to push through her apprehension anyway.
“Go and get him,” Eliza said to the space where Jane previously stood. “If anyone deserves her happily ever after, it’s you.”
“He’ll take the deal, stop fretting.”
Wick watched as Lydia stormed around her loft-style apartment and wondered if the fact she was his wife made it their loft-style apartment. They hadn’t discussed living arrangements since arriving home from Vegas, yet every night —and often in the day too—Wick found himself in her bed. Lydia had a voracious sexual appetite, and if they had one thing going for them, it was between the sheets. Together they were hotter than anything he’d ever experienced before, and it was the one place Lydia allowed him all the power.
“You need to ensure he does,” Lydia snarled, her movements stopping and her annoyance focused solely on Wick.
“Nobody makes Darcy do anything, but he’ll take the deal. He’s wanted out of Austen’s for years. He’s only taking charge now because I’m not there, so let me go back to work and I’ll get our deal from the inside, not the outside.”
“And what would you have me do with myself while you men make the deal? Stay at home like the good little wifey and have your dinner on the table by the time you get home?”
“I wouldn’t say no to a home-cooked meal,” Wick replied, entirely missing the sarcasm in Lydia’s voice.
“Really?” Lydia took a sultry step towards her new husband. “How about a foot rub too?”
“You’d do that?” he asked in excitement. “Because I get terrible pains in my arches if I’ve been on them for too long.”
“And maybe I could run you a bath, wash your back, shave you?” Lydia’s next step brought her toe to toe with Wick. She lifted her head to look up at him beneath her long lashes, licked her lips—a movement he followed avidly—and then reached out to cup his balls and caress his package.
“God, I’d love that,” he groaned, thrusting himself into her hold.
“I bet you would,” she purred giving his length one last leisurely stroke before reaching lower to squeeze his balls, tight.
Wick yelped and attempted to step back, but Lydia’s hold tightened further and a pain shot from his nuts to his belly. Lydia literally had him by the balls.
“The thing is, husband dearest. I’m not that kind of girl. I don’t wait for anyone, let alone a man, and I certainly won’t become your trophy wife.”
She stepped closer to Wick, not releasing her hold on his crown jewels, but close enough to press her ample breasts into his chest, and close enough for her to bring her mouth just millimetres away from his.
Against his lips, she breathed, “Get me Austen’s. Get rid of your brothers, and keep up your end of the bargain. Just because your cock is talented—” she let go of his balls and pressed her hand firmly against his surprisingly stiff member “—doesn’t mean I can’t acquire another to fulfil those needs, and if you found yourself out of that job, I’m not sure your position would remain viable.”
“I’ll get you Austen’s,” Wick panted.
“I know you will,” she exhaled, before dropping to her knees and unbuckling his belt. “Let’s call this an incentive.”
Chapter Twenty
Jane’s hands trembled so much that she wondered if the car�
�s air con was on too low.
The driver had announced their arrival at least fifteen minutes earlier, and yet she hadn’t moved. Her gaze was locked on the front doors of Austen’s head office as her town car idled along the kerb outside. A few people had come and gone, but none was Bing.
“Open the door, go inside and talk to him. Open the door, go inside and talk to him,” she repeated until her shaky hand found the door handle. “It’s just Bing. It’s just us,” she told herself, using Bing’s words to convince herself that searching for this man was the right thing to do.
She knew it was the right thing to do.
She pushed open the door with purpose and stepped out into the early afternoon sunshine. All around her, people bustled about on their lunch breaks, or on a mid-week shopping trip, and she side-stepped several bodies before finally standing before brass and glass entrance doors.
In the same shiny brass was an engraved plaque embedded into the red brick to the side of the doors that read, Austen’s Books Stores. Est. 1898.
This was a business that had been established at least fifty or sixty years longer than TBG, and Jane wondered if Eliza would be impressed by that fact or whether she’d dismiss it as inconsequential. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t here to talk business with Bing, she was here to find out why he hadn’t been in touch.
Jane’s stomach did a full-blown gymnastic routine at the thought of what excuse he may offer her.
“It’s just us. It’s just us,” she muttered repeatedly, and finally plucked up the courage to push through the double doors into the warm and welcoming foyer that seemed stuck in the forties or maybe fifties—dating antique furnishings and old buildings was more Lydia’s thing. Jane preferred to get to know people and not things.
The foyer wasn’t a manned space. Instead, another embossed brass sign directed you to the individual floors. The first-floor housed promotions and human resources. The second floor was the buyers and legal, and the top floor was named the Executive Suites.