by Kelsie Fann
26.
“How was Nashville?” Rose asked. Liz landed in Savannah at midnight the night before, and she’d already suffered through two hazy client meetings. She was on her second cup of coffee, and she was still trying to wake up.
Liz yawned and covered her mouth. “Productive. I signed a lease. I hired an administrative assistant to help navigate the opening of new place. We pitched a few companies about coming on board as our first client.”
“Well.” Rose sat down in front of Liz’s desk. Rose hadn’t spoken much to Liz in months, and she was still hiding her relationship with James from everyone else at Pemberley.
It hurt Liz to be cut out of such a big part of her friend’s life. Liz looked at Rose’s flushed cheeks, wondering what she was thinking. “So,” Rose started speaking in a way that made Liz take her hands off her keyboard and pay full attention.
Rose slowly twirled a hot pink pen between her fingers. “Speaking of the new location, James wants me to think about a new location too.”
Liz rubbed her eyes. James wanted Rose to open up a Pemberley Branch? “He wants to open a new office?”
Rose shook her head. “No. James asked me to move to Chicago so we can be in the same city.”
Liz closed her eyes, not ready to face the reality. She knew she should say congratulations to her friend, but she couldn’t. It was the news that she’d been dreading since Rose admitted her feelings for James, and now it had happened.
Liz opened her eyes and looked at Rose’s beaming face. “Congratulations.” Even though this meant losing her best employee and one of her best friends, Liz knew this was what was Rose wanted. “Do you have a job yet?”
“Not yet.” Rose shrugged.
“Are you sure you want to leave before you have something lined up?” Liz asked
Rose nodded and breathed in. “I want to give our relationship the best chance of working. And I think moving to Chicago is giving it the best chance,” Rose said. “I guess this is my two weeks’ notice.”
Liz felt like a knife had been shoved in her stomach. She couldn’t imagine coming into work without Rose.
Rose twirled her pen in her fingers once more. Both of them knew that this was the end of a chapter in their stories. An awesome chapter, Liz thought. She hoped Rose felt the same way.
A few seconds later, Rose got up and walked quietly back to her desk. Liz watched her sit down and start working, no doubt trying to finish up projects for her Savannah clients before she left. That was the kind of employee Rose was. Now she was leaving.
Liz ran her index finger down a stack of papers in front of her. She swallowed, realizing her workload would only grow as she tried and probably failed to pick up the slack Rose left behind.
Liz realized she didn’t care about the extra work; she was going to miss her friend. For the first time since she’d become vice president, she knew she needed more than work.
27.
On Rose’s last day in Savannah, Liz received an invitation. The invitation arrived in a simple, white envelope with “Ms. Elizabeth Bailey” and her address written in beautiful calligraphy.
When Liz removed the simple white card from the envelope, within seconds, she mentally declined.
“Grand Opening, Pemberley House,” the card said in a big, black swirly font. Underneath a delicate horizontal line, it read, “Sugar Hill, Georgia, 7 o’clock, Friday, August 21.”
Liz looked at her calendar, praying she had somewhere else, anywhere else, to be, and luckily she did. It was the night of her first board meeting for Pemberley Media since Darcy resigned, and James asked her to attend.
Even if she didn’t have plans, Liz wasn’t going anywhere Darcy might be. It was too soon. Liz placed the beautifully simple invitation deep in her desk drawers, willing herself to forget it existed, and went back to checking her email until Rose entered her office.
“Well, I guess this is it.” She held two bags full of her belongings in one hand and a lush office plant in the other.
Liz motioned to Rose’s plant. “Can I carry that for you?” Rose pushed the plant toward Liz, and together the pair walked out of the executive office and past Rose’s empty desk.
Where brightly-colored pens and notebooks used to sit, now only a metal surface shined brightly. The empty desk made a lump form in Liz’s throat; no one could fill Rose’s shoes.
Liz followed her friend into the overcast Savannah afternoon, where James popped out of a sleek black car. “Hi, James,” Liz said.
He nodded at the plant. “I would have carried that for you.”
“I’ve got it.” Liz placed the pot in the back seat of the car.
She stood up and noticed a stern look descend on James’s face. “Don’t forget the board of directors meeting. I need you by my side,”
Liz could tell from the dark circles under James’s eyes that Darcy’s absence from the company was wearing on him. “I’ll be there,” she said.
Liz turned her attention to Rose. “When are you leaving Savannah?” Liz asked.
“Not for a couple weeks.”
Liz’s hands dangled limply by her sides. “I hope we can see each other before you leave.”
Rose smiled. “I would like that.” Then she opened her arms and hugged Liz. As the two women embraced, for a second, the lie Liz told Rose about James disappeared. For a moment, Liz could see a future where the past was forgotten. “Bye, Liz. Thanks for everything.”
Liz squeezed Rose’s hands. “And I wish you all the happiness in the world. You deserve it.”
“I wish you the same,” Rose said.
“I’m ready.” Rose told James as she slid into the car. Liz watched the car drive down the street, her heart aching for her friend.
Liz dragged her feet back into her office. She absentmindedly opened her desk drawers and picked up the invitation Georgia had sent her. Everything inside her wanted to see Darcy, but she knew all the hurt she still felt about him asking her to leave Pemberley would resurface. Liz threw the invitation in the trashcan before she changed her mind.
As she sat down at her desk and looked through the glass wall to Rose’s empty desk, she felt completely alone in Savannah.
28.
The day before the grand opening of the Pemberley House, Georgia called Liz four times in a row. Liz had declined her call each time until the fifth call, when Liz realized Georgia wasn’t giving up. “You have to come,” Georgia demanded.
“I can’t. I have a board meeting.”
Plus, Liz pictured the absolute worst-case scenario: opening the front door and seeing Darcy. And he would look at her with his deep, dark eyes. And what would she say to him? “Sorry I rejected your offer”? “And I’m heartbroken we can’t just date like normal people”?
“Is this about the board meeting or my brother?” Georgia cut through Liz’s thoughts. “What’s going on with you two? He only grunts when I ask about you. What does the grunt mean?”
“Ugh.” Liz made a guttural sound in reply. She didn’t want to tell Georgia that even though she rejected Darcy’s offer, she still thought about him every single day. Liz didn’t want Georgia to know how much she felt for Darcy, even after three months of no contact. “I don’t know,” Liz answered, not having an explanation for herself, let alone for Georgia.
“Darcy’s not coming,” Georgia said. Liz pressed the phone closer to her ear. She couldn’t believe a world where he would miss something Georgia worked so hard on.
“He wanted to come, of course,” Georgia’s words flew out of her mouth. “But he’s going to be out of the country.”
Must be his new charity, Liz thought. “I’m sorry. I still can’t make it.” Even without Darcy, Liz still couldn’t get out of attending the board meeting.
“Oh.” Georgia’s voice sounded sad.
“Everything okay?”
“I just don’t know a lot of people in Sugar Hill yet, and I thought maybe if you were coming, then it would be a little less awkward for me. S
honey invited the whole town; he wants to show off his hard work. Maybe I should have stopped him. I was just so excited to show everyone the Pemberley house.” Georgia’s voice was slow, steady, like she was trying to convince herself she was making the right decision. “I know you’re busy.”
Liz groaned again, trying not to give into Georgia’s plea, but when Georgia didn’t say anything else, Liz couldn’t take it. She was thirty-three, and it was time to think about something other than work. Liz looked at Rose’s empty desk and decided to call James and excuse herself from the meeting.
“I can move some stuff around,” Liz told Georgia. “I’ll be there.”
Georgia squealed. “Thank you so much, Liz!” she said. “I’ll pay you back, I promise!”
Liz looked at Rose’s empty desk. “I may need some help around the office.”
“You got it,” Georgia said.
As soon as Liz hung up, she immediately opened her text messages.
“What are you doing on Saturday?” she texted Sam. This could be the perfect opportunity to introduce Sam to Georgia. Plus, it wouldn’t hurt to have someone by her side as she walked into the Pemberley House.
Liz crossed her fingers, hoping Sam was available. She didn’t have to wait for a response.
“My schedule is open,” he texted back.
29.
Two days later, Liz and Sam were ushered by a valet attendant through the gates of the Pemberley House. Somehow, in the span of less than three months, Georgia had managed to make the mansion look even more grand.
Spotlights glowed against the pitch-black gates, making the gates seem taller as large shadows danced across the lush lawn.
Tiny twinkle lights trimmed the rooftop and walls and swirled up the giant columns on the porch, turning the house into a sparkling diamond.
Liz parked her car where she was instructed, in the middle of the lawn, and she looked at Sam. “You ready?” she asked.
Sam raised his eyebrows. “She restored this house?” He nodded toward the Pemberley House.
“Yep,” Liz said, looking at the exquisite house.
“Take me to this girl.”
Liz got out of the car, and her black stiletto heels sank into the ground as she adjusted the strap of the one-shouldered black dress she was wearing.
Her hair was pulled back in a low, sleek bun. Liz felt like she didn’t want anything to get in her way tonight, not even a loose curl, so she was pleased when her hair didn’t fall into her eyes as she stepped over the luscious flower beds onto the brick path.
As they walked up to the house, Sam straightened his tie and looked around, his eyes darting around nervously. “How will I know who she is?”
“She will be the skinny blonde opening the door,” Liz said.
He held out his arm. “Blonde. Real estate genius. Got it.”
Liz hooked her arm through his. “We may be a tad overdressed though.” Liz nodded to a man in front of them wearing cut-off jean shorts.
Sam stared forward at the grand entryway. “Unless you’re going swimming, you’d better be in a suit. Then wear a swim suit. That’s what my broker says.”
Liz laughed. “Georgia’s brother would love you. He’s a suit guy, too.”
Darcy. Up to this point Liz had managed to force him from her mind. Now as she stood on the Pemberley House porch, his memory wouldn’t be stopped. She could feel the hot touch of his lips against hers. Liz gripped the banister for support.
“You okay?” Sam asked as Georgia opened the door to Pemberley House.
Liz nodded and was stunned for the second time. Somehow, Georgia had transformed the house yet again.
Elegant, black draperies contrasted dramatically with the cream walls and giant crystal chandeliers hung down from the ceiling, bouncing sparkly light through the house, and every nook and cranny was adorned with white flowers and bright greenery.
Floral and gold centerpieces sat on scattered top tables, dripped off the fireplace, and covered the large, arched doorways leading from room to room.
The beautiful decorations were a sweet contrast to the haphazardly-dressed entourage roaming inside the Pemberley House. There were women in floor-length gowns and some in T-shirt dresses. The men seemed impossibly more eclectic with a small group in bow ties and a larger group in baseball hats.
Georgia wrapped her arms around her. “Thanks for coming, Liz.”
“It’s beautiful, Georgia,” Liz said to her young friend, who was standing in front of her in a navy, sleeveless, high-low dress, with a slim silver choker around her neck.
“Do you love it?” she asked.
“It’s amazing,” Liz said. Georgia looked over Liz’s shoulder to Sam, who was standing just a few feet behind Liz.
Georgia leaned forward and hissed in Liz’s ear. “You brought a date?” Her voice sounded tight with panic.
Liz backed away and turned to Sam. “Georgia, this is Sam.”
“Hi,” Georgia said quickly. Then, before Liz could say anything else, Georgia grabbed Liz in another embrace. This time, even tighter than the first.
Liz felt trapped. Georgia had pinned her arms to her sides with surprising strength. “Everything okay?” she whispered.
“Don’t hate me,” Georgia whispered frantically into Liz’s ear.
Liz wiggled out of Georgia’s embrace. “For what?”
Liz eyed Georgia, trying to figure out what was going on. Then, as Liz looked at the guilt in Georgia’s eyes, her stomach sank. There was only one reason Georgia would be this panicked. Darcy was here.
Liz’s former boss walked down the staircase toward her. He looked amazing: broad shoulders, dark hair, and a formal black suit and tie that said he was on a completely different playing field—no—stratosphere than the people of Sugar Hill, Georgia. As Darcy hit the landing, just ten steps in front of Liz, he adjusted his tie and locked eyes with her.
By this time, Liz couldn’t keep her heart from feeling like it was beating out of her chest. She turned, ready throw Sam at Georgia and flee. But Georgia wrapped her arm around Sam’s and led him into the house, disappearing into the crowd.
Fine, I’ll leave without Sam, Liz thought. She turned to walk out of the door, but a group of men in Nascar T-shirts blocked her.
Liz looked back at Darcy. In three more feet, they would be face to face. It was officially too late to run. Three-two-one. She held her breath as she counted his steps.
She was going to talk to Darcy whether she wanted to or not.
“Hello, Liz,” he said.
“Hi, Darcy.” She clenched her fist. Keep it together, she told herself. Keep it together, she repeated as her insides shriveled. Looking at him, standing in front of her, she couldn’t believe she’d walked away from him.
He wanted her to give up all she’d worked for, she reminded herself. She promised herself she would stay strong.
Darcy looked down, shoving his hands in his pockets. She saw his chest rise and fall before he spoke. “Liz,” he said.
“You said my name already,” she whispered. All her promises to herself fell out of the grand house’s window as her heart stopped.
“You’re right. How are you?” At that moment, standing in the renovated Pemberley House, looking at the only man who made her want to be in a relationship, but also the only man who wanted to take away everything she’d worked for, she shrugged her shoulders.
He grabbed her hand. “I need to show you something.”
Liz pulled her fingers loose. “Darcy. I’m fine.”
“Please.” He extended his hand. “Let me show you.”
Liz knew she couldn’t hold out for long. She could see that Darcy wasn’t taking no for an answer. “Please, Liz.” Liz looked around. Georgia was laughing and talking to Sam by the fireplace. She sighed, wanting to give them a few more minutes to connect.
“Okay, but quick.” Liz placed her hand in Darcy’s, regretting every step she took up the staircase.
Upstairs, the roar of the
party was muffled, and Liz could finally hear herself think. Darcy pulled her past his room, and Liz glanced through the half-open door. The walls were still plastered with the baseball theme of Darcy’s childhood.
Darcy led Liz down the hall, toward the double doors that opened into the master bedroom. When Liz was growing up, when it was the Chambers’s House, the room had green ivy wallpaper and a hunter green blanket on the bed. She remembered sneaking into the room to jump on the king-size bed and raid Dee’s mom’s jewelry box.
Darcy opened the doors to reveal a completely transformed space. Like downstairs, the main color was cream, with whitewashed furniture. The room felt like stepping into a cloud.
“The day we were here, I saw this,” Darcy interrupted Liz’s thoughts. She whipped her head toward his direction; she was ready to see whatever had changed his mood so drastically. She didn’t know what she expected, but it wasn’t the simple, slim, sliver picture frame Darcy held in his hand.
Liz walked closer. Inside the frame, there was a faded picture of a man with thick mustache sitting in front of a typewriter, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
The young woman next to him had long, brown hair; her face was partially turned away from the camera, looking at the man who was looking at the typewriter.
“Are those your parents?” Liz asked.
Darcy nodded. “They built Pemberley together before they fell in love.”
“They look happy,” Liz said.
“It’s taken me a long time to realize this, but the day I quit Pemberley, I was scared. I’ve never built anything before on my own. I thought, looking at the picture, that we could be like my parents. I thought if you were with me, that there was no way I could fail.”
He sat down on the end of the bed. “And when you didn’t want to come with me, I thought it was because you didn’t believe in me. Or believe in us.”
“Darcy, you can do anything,” Liz interrupted. “I didn’t want to leave Pemberley, not because I didn’t believe in you, but because I’ve worked so hard at Pemberley to build my own dream.”