“Remind me not to get into a theoretical argument with you.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, because men are supposed to be more logical than emotional, but trust for me comes down to instinct. To intuition. I can usually feel it in my gut if I trust someone or not.” He gave her a sincere look. “And though I don’t know about Quentin and Irene, I do know that I trust you.”
She swallowed then faked a smile. Oh, boy. She either had to tell him the truth about her real life right now or, to be fair to him, she had to end their relationship.
Only she didn’t want it to end. There was too much about Will she’d quickly grown to like and respect. He was a man she could easily see loving, but only if no lies hovered between them.
Perhaps if she started with one thing, a small thing like her age, maybe. “Um, Will—”
“Lydia! How are you?” he said.
Who? Beth turned to see a cute young woman coming toward them and waving. She walked with a sway to her hips and brushed her hair back with an alluring swish. Beth’s anxiety shot up.
“Dr. Darcy, hi!” the lady called. But as she moved closer Beth realized this Lydia of Will’s was no woman. She was barely past girlhood. In fact, she looked like a teenager.
Beth squinted between the two of them and tried to discern their relationship. She felt an unfamiliar rush of jealousy when Lydia bear-hugged Will. Who was this person?
“Charlotte, I’d like you to meet one of my favorite patients. Lydia Jenkins, this is Charlotte Lucas.”
“Hi, Charlotte,” Lydia said, pumping Beth’s hand enthusiastically.
Beth relaxed a notch. “Nice to meet you, Lydia.”
Will put a hand on Lydia’s shoulder. “How’s Brittany doing?”
“Oh, Doc, that’s what I’m so happy about. The antibiotics you gave her helped right quick. I’m fine, too.” The girl beamed a look of idol-worship at him.
“Glad to hear it, darling. But I want you two to swing by this week for a checkup. I need to give your lungs a listen.” The girl looked panicked at his words. Will responded accordingly. “This’ll be for five minutes, Lydia, on my lunch hour, okay. No forms, no charge, no insurance. I just need to check my work, make sure I did a good job. Could you help me out with that?”
“Well, ‘course I can, Doc.” She bobbed her head a few times. “I—I, um, just really wanted to thank you for, you know, before.”
“Thank me by getting yourself and Brittany in to see me on Tuesday. How does twelve-thirty sound?”
Lydia smiled. “Okay. See ya then.” Then she bounced away.
Will’s gaze followed the girl as she left, and Beth’s heart swelled with admiration for the man. He was a doctor who genuinely cared about his patients. It wasn’t a mere job where he could display his prestige for the wealth-conscious eyes of the world. No. Will Darcy was born to practice medicine in the trenches and to fight for those unable to go to battle themselves.
“You seem to have really been there when she needed you,” Beth said, trying not to overpower him with her own idolization.
He put his arm around her shoulders and squeezed. “Lydia had her daughter last year, a few days after she turned nineteen. The two of them came down with pneumonia recently and all I did was get to it before it got worse. But dealing with an infant, no family around to help, not much money and a health crisis is tough. Too tough, I think, for someone so young. I wish I could have helped her more.”
A niggling of something unsettling landed on Beth’s spine. She tried to shake it off, but couldn’t quite manage it.
“Though, you know,” Will continued with a speculative gleam in his eye, “you could be of great help also. Like I told you when we first met, you’d make a wonderful addition to our team. The clinic will be underway late this summer, and we’ll need a child psychologist. You’d be able to work closely with us while still furthering your studies in graduate school if you wanted.” He tossed her one of his winning smiles.
She tried to hide her cringe. “You’ve already begun assembling a team?”
“Oh, yeah. Not everyone’s been hired on yet, but a good group of people are interested. I’ve got a great dietitian-nutritionist who wants to work with us part time, a pharmacist, a psychiatrist, several physicians on staff and even a lead on a social worker.”
“A social worker? Really?”
“Yes, well, it was a necessity. And the guy’s just on the fringe of the project. A consultant. Your role would be much bigger and more important.” He held her hand and turned her to face him. His stance was like a man proposing marriage, not like one offering a job. “Just think of the work you could do. The benefit to the community and to the individuals within it. Think how much these women would appreciate your helpfulness and insights into their children’s psychological worlds.”
These women. That was what he’d said, right?
And that was when she realized she’d misread the truth behind Will’s wistful expression when he’d gazed at Lydia. It wasn’t just dedication to his patients, although that was a part of it. Nor was it just empathy for someone experiencing what his mom had.
It was also pity. Pity.
He felt sorry for Lydia, for her life, for the choices she’d made and the consequences she had to live with. And if he’d met Beth—not Charlotte—he’d pity her, too. Perhaps he’d want to help her, maybe even rescue her, but would he ever see her? Think of her as someone other than another needy patient? Would he be capable of knowing her? Of completely loving her?
She doubted it.
Whether or not she felt she had enough information to do her sociology paper justice, it would just have to do.
Whether or not his kisses touched her heart, she’d just have to learn to live without them again.
Whether or not Will could have been her “Perfect Match” was irrelevant now.
Both of them would have to move on and seek their soul mates elsewhere—with or without “Lady Catherine’s” help.
He walked her back to her car and pulled her into his arms. She gave him one chaste peck on the cheek.
He tried to entice her to go out for coffee or dessert somewhere. She politely declined.
He attempted to pin down a time and a place for their next date. She said she’d have to check her schedule.
He promised to email her tomorrow. She didn’t make any promises.
“Goodnight, Charlotte,” he said, stepping back as she swung the car door closed.
“Thank you, Will,” she replied, letting herself smile longingly at him one last time. “Goodbye.”
SEVEN
Will stared at the computer screen, scanning the unread messages for the third time. Charlotte’s name appeared nowhere on the list. He’d emailed her twice already in the past few days, but he’d gotten no response. Was her computer down? A problem, maybe, with her server? She’d always answered promptly in the past, but he had a bad feeling about it this time. There was a finality in their last parting that he didn’t like.
“Cuz, how are you?”
Bingley’s enthused voice grated against Will’s nerves. He gritted his teeth before swiveling his chair to face his cousin. “Fine. And you?”
“Absolutely outstanding. Just golfed eighteen record-breaking holes with my pals at the club. Stock market’s climbing steadily this week. Met a pretty manicurist named Scarlet, if you can believe it, at—”
“I can believe it. Glad to hear things are going so well for you.” He shuffled a few medical charts around to simulate that ‘busy doctor’ look. Bingley, as always, ignored the hint.
His cousin gave the office his usual once-over before zoning in on the one item Will wished he’d thought to put away. “Hey, is that her? The Love-Match Lady?” Bingley picked up the first of the Polaroid snapshots. The one of Will and Charlotte at his mother’s house. His cousin eyed it up, down and sideways. “Nice choice, Cuz. She’s cute. Very, very cute. So—” he turned his attention back to Will, “w
hen’s the wedding?”
Will forced himself not to roll his eyes. “No date’s been set. Now listen, Bingley—”
“Have you asked her yet or not? Remember, double the money if you get her to wear a ring.”
“I remember and, no, of course not. We’ve only been on four dates. I still need to take her on a fifth to fulfill that first part of our bargain, and even then I doubt I should be bringing up marriage. Our last evening out ended kind of…oddly. She hasn’t answered my emails this week, so I don’t know what’s up with her. She told me she didn’t have a cell. Never revealed where she worked. The university won’t give out information on students. And her name’s not listed in the white pages, so I can’t call her at home. Okay? Now can we just drop it?”
Bingley stared at him with his irritating know-it-all look. “The five dates were part of our bargain…yes,” he murmured. “But what about the other part? The little get-together where I meet her on or before my birthday? I still need to get a look at this woman in the flesh, you know. Gotta talk to her and make sure you haven’t connived her into striking some kind of deal with you on the side. Maybe she’s the kind that’ll do anything for a quick buck.”
Something in Will’s head exploded. “Bingley, get out! No matter what you say, I know you don’t have my ‘best interests’ at heart. Isn’t it enough that I’m playing your childish little game, jumping through your stupid hoops in order to raise funding for the clinic? Isn’t it enough for you to see me wriggling around on your money-bated hook, feeling like a fool for letting you manipulate me? Do you have to insult her, too?”
Bingley’s brows rose. “Why, Cuz, I do believe this is the first time in over thirty years you’ve been more concerned with a woman’s reputation than with your god-awful ambition to seek revenge on the system.” He paused and tilted his chin upward before narrowing his eyes to green slits. “I think, for all your whining, you might be dangerously close to fulfilling my bargain after all.” He dropped the snapshot on the desk, turned neatly on his heel and marched out.
Will picked up the first clipboard within his reach and flung it across the room. It smashed into the wall with a satisfying thud, but he still felt crummy. Then he turned back to the computer and began to compose yet another email to Charlotte Lucas.
***
Beth checked her computer for emails three minutes before the end of the day. She read Will’s latest message with both curiosity and a powerful jab of guilt:
Hi there, Charlotte.
Me again. Didn’t know if my previous messages hadn’t reached you or if you’ve just been too busy to reply. Hoped to see you again this weekend, if possible, or even during the workweek if that’s the only time you’re available. We could grab lunch or a quick cup of coffee. There’s a nutty flavor at the Koffee Haus that I want to taste again—Macadamia Hawaiian Kona. Tempted? You’ve got all my numbers—cell, home, work—so give me a call or a quick email and let me know. I miss talking to you. Take care of yourself.
Will
Beth’s fingers itched to reply.
Her heart tightened at the thought of letting him down. But it had to be. There was no future for the two of them, and she’d rather he thought she was a fickle young woman who didn’t know a good man when she saw one rather than a lying single mother-slash-social worker who knew she could never live up to his expectations.
From her one and only work drawer, she pulled out the snapshot of the two of them. She could almost re-experience the delight she’d felt at the moment at his mother’s house when Will’s arm hugged her shoulders and he leaned in toward her. Her pulse did a cha-cha at the thought. For a few joyous seconds that day, she’d come close to believing fairy tales could come true. That rich, handsome doctors could really fall in love with practically penniless single moms struggling to stay off welfare.
Beth switched off the computer yet again without responding to Will, and she headed home for the day.
Jane tapped her foot by the apartment door in typical impatience as Beth and Charlie approached. She held up a large brown paper bag with Chinese letters scrawled all over the side. “Dinner,” her friend announced. “Now let me in. I’ve been waiting a whole six minutes for you two slowpokes.”
“Egg rolls?” Charlie asked eagerly, tripping a little on the carpet before giving Jane a hard welcoming squeeze.
“Yep.” Jane puffed out some air. “Boy, kid, you sure got some muscles on you.”
He giggled. Beth unlocked the door and they all fell into the room. Within minutes they were munching on egg rolls and seafood cow-chow-tay. Beth eyed her friend showing off her expertise with chopsticks. Then a scallop slipped out of Jane’s tenuous grasp, and she used one of the wooden sticks to spear it. White sauce splattered on her jersey.
“Oh, don’t give me that disapproving look, Beth Ann Bennet. You’re just jealous because I can use these objects of torture—not very well, I’ll admit—while you won’t even take a chance on it.” She swiped at her white-speckled shirt with a House of China napkin. “Why not trade in your fork for a set of chopsticks, for once? Why are you so afraid of taking risks?”
Beth felt she could live without this discussion tonight. Her elderly client Lynn Hammond had urged her to take a risk and look what happened. “I’m not afraid, Jane. I just—well, I—”
“Cut the garbage. This is me, your best friend, remember? What’s fueling all this fear of yours, and you know darned well I’m not talking about eating utensils?”
“You know the reasons.” She stabbed her final piece of shrimp with her fork and scooped up the last of the fried rice. Her son, his attention fixed on their small TV set, chomped on his second egg roll and ignored them in favor of Winnie the Pooh.
“Not specific enough, Beth. Spell it out for me.”
She shot a pointed look in her son’s direction and then returned her gaze to Jane. “Now’s not the right time.”
Jane sighed. “It’s never the right time.” But she held her tongue until Charlie was out of the room. “C’mon, Beth. Something’s going on with you. You’re practically pulsing with anxiety. Is there a problem at work? Something happening with school? Or Charlie? What?”
Beth knew she couldn’t hold back the truth now. She told Jane about her latest dates with Will, the ones she’d kept secret. “I intended to break it off, that was always my plan, but there’s so much about him that just, oh…touches me, I guess. I tried to stop seeing him, but until this week I didn’t succeed. I told myself it wasn’t fair to write about him or to do the project without his full story—”
“You met his mother, for heaven’s sake. You ought to have enough background research for a three-hundred-page dissertation by now.”
“Well, yes. I know. But as for my own curiosity and interest in him…”
“Don’t go there, Beth. It’s dangerous. I know I’ve kidded you about taking risks, and I think opening your heart up to someone new is a great idea in most circumstances, but not with the way things are lined up here. You went too far and too long with the Charlotte Lucas lie. Maybe if you’d told him right away—after that first date—your relationship might’ve gotten straightened out enough to go forward, but—”
“No. He didn’t know me well enough then. He wouldn’t have given me a chance if he’d found out so soon. Think about it, Jane. He hated my profession. He didn’t want to get involved with a woman who had a child. He did want someone he thought might jump into this clinic thing with him. I failed all three of his primary hopes and expectations, and he doesn’t even know it. Besides, back then everything we discussed or knew about each other was surface stuff—”
“Your profiles.”
“Right. We were cardboard characters to one another. That wasn’t the kind of knowledge that would inspire someone to stick around through even normal challenges. Now that our relationship is deeper, more intimate, my lie is more like a betrayal than ever.” She told Jane about Will’s recent emails.
“So, you’re just
avoiding the guy? I don’t know, Beth. What happens if you run into him somewhere? If he finds out the truth from someone other than you?”
Beth laughed humorlessly. “From whom? Will and I don’t run in the same circles. At all. And we live in Chicago, not some tiny country village. With a few million people and several socioeconomic levels between us, I doubt our paths will ever cross again.”
She tossed her plastic dinner plate into the sink none too gently. It wasn’t as though she had to worry about chipping her rose-patterned china, now did she? Her head hurt and the rest of her ached with regret. “Besides, I care about him, Jane. Despite our differences. I don’t want to hurt him, and I can’t keep deceiving him. This might not be the only way but, in the end, I think it’ll be the kindest.”
“If you say so,” Jane said, cracking open a fortune cookie. She handed another one to Beth. “Here.”
Beth took the unopened cookie, but she knew her fortune already. It could only say: “Expect hard work, years of struggle and much loneliness.” She just hoped all her sacrifices would pay off so Charlie could someday have the fortune she most wished for him. The one that read: “You will have a happy and fulfilling life.”
***
Will didn’t know what had come over him. He stared through the glass of the store window and wanted to bang his head against it. It would serve him right.
He was behaving like a fool, his conduct the most irrational and illogical known to mankind. The goals and ambitions typically heading his list of critical To Do’s had dwindled from community-based humanitarian and altruistic objectives to personal and strikingly selfish ones.
He wanted to marry Charlotte Lucas. And here was the big twist: It wasn’t because of Bingley’s bet. He wanted to shove Bingley’s idiotic bet in a place his cousin would be hard pressed to find it. He wanted to come clean with Charlotte about his reasons for seeking someone on the Lady Catherine website and explain how quickly his motives for spending time with her had changed. He wanted to talk with her for hours, hold her in his arms, kiss her, make her his wife. There seemed to be no end to the things he wanted.
Pride, Prejudice and the Perfect Match Page 8