Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  “No promises on that either.”

  The car pulled over in the park, and Will straightened up, smiling. “Ah, we’re here.”

  He opened the door and slid out, extending his hand, which I took. A moment later, we were walking toward the reservoir.

  “You took me by surprise, Annie,” he said as we approached the place where we’d met.

  “A fainting girl will do that, I’ve heard,” I teased.

  “But it’s more than that. You’re just…different.”

  “Good different or bad different?”

  He pulled me to a stop. “Good. Definitely good.” And then he turned me around to face a grassy knoll where a gorgeous picnic lay, spread out over a massive plaid.

  I sucked in a breath, swinging around to face him. “Will, it’s perfect!”

  And as I tugged him toward the blanket, he laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound.

  A charcuterie board was stacked with freshly cut meats and cheeses, a basket stuffed with bread was at its side, and another little tray held tiny jars with sauces and spreads. Another board held crackers and more cheese—glorious cheese—and was broken up by bundles of grapes and stacks of apple slices. There were trays of tarts and chocolate-covered strawberries, blocks of white and dark chocolate. It was a bona fide feast, laid out on a navy-and-emerald tartan.

  “How in the world did you manage all this?” I asked as I sat, wide-eyed, to one side of the spread.

  Will sat opposite me, still looking absolutely delighted. And delightful. “Well, would you think I was an asshole if I said my cook put together the picnic?”

  I laughed, a little shocked. He had a cook. Of course he had a cook.

  “And then I had my assistant come set it all up and wait for us so no one jacked it.”

  I raised my eyebrows, smirking as I stacked cheese and sausage on a cracker. “Your assistant?”

  He flushed a little, rubbing the back of his neck, but he was smiling. “I know. It’s ridiculous.”

  “Well, thank him for me. Or her?”

  “Him.”

  I felt a petty measure of relief that it wasn’t a woman. “It’s perfect. Today is perfect. Yesterday was perfect. Everything’s just…”

  “Perfect?”

  I laughed and popped the cracker in my mouth.

  Perfect.

  A few hours later, we were sitting in the back of a horse-drawn carriage, circling Central Park. The sun had set, and it had gotten colder, but I was warm, tucked into Will’s side under the heavy blanket.

  He’d been the best sport, not teasing me when I broke out my camera a dozen times to note the moments. But I hadn’t told him about my list, which made it that much sweeter when he didn’t lose his patience or seem bored while I fooled with the charcuterie board or when I asked him to take a selfie with me. In fact, he’d asked me to take two so he could have one too.

  I sighed, feeling lazy and happy and a little like I was dreaming as we ambled around the park. Neither of us had spoken for a while, the silence between us content, the time marked by the clop of the horse’s hooves and the gentle swaying of the carriage.

  “You know,” I started, “when my dad died, I made this list of things I’d never done before.”

  He pulled me a little closer but didn’t interrupt.

  “We lost so much. Not just him, which was devastating on its own. Mama lost her legs, and we lost our home, our lives. And I wondered, How will we ever survive? How can we dust ourselves off and go on?” I took a slow breath that left me in a puff of smoke. “So, I started writing down all the things I’d never done, things I wanted to do. Ways to fill up my life and my heart. Because I didn’t want to live quietly anymore. I wanted to live loudly. I didn’t want to wait for life to come to me. I didn’t want to experience it through books and music alone; I wanted to do the things that inspired me.”

  “Has it worked?” he asked quietly.

  “It has. It’s given me hope when I thought hope was lost.”

  Will didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did I.

  “So,” he said, breaking the silence, “what kinds of things are on your list?”

  “Oh, lots of things—most of them silly, some of them not. Like, I wanted to eat a hot dog out of a cart and traverse the Brooklyn Bridge. There are some books I’ve always wanted to read. I want to eat ice cream when it’s snowing and dance on the beach in the moonlight. I want to live, and my list exists as a way to make that living tangible and achievable.”

  Will didn’t speak for a moment, but when he did, his voice had a strange quality to it, velvety and wondrous.

  Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—

  Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

  And watching, with eternal lids apart,

  Like nature’s patient, sleepless Eremite,

  The moving waters at their priestlike task

  Of pure ablution round earth’s human shores…

  “I can never remember the—” he started.

  And my throat tightened as I recited the rest.

  Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

  Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

  No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

  Pillow’d upon my fair love’s ripening breast,

  To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

  Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

  Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

  And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

  “Keats,” I breathed. “I love that poem.”

  “It describes you exactly, I think. You’re a wonder, Annie. I’ve never known anyone quite like you.”

  I turned in his arms and looked into his eyes, emboldened by our connection. “Did you know that this entire date was on my list?”

  He smiled. “Is it?”

  I nodded, feeling a rush of anticipation zip through me when his gaze dropped to my lips.

  “What else is on this list that I should know about?”

  “I’ve never been kissed.” It was a permission wrapped up in a request, and I held my breath as I waited for his answer.

  His eyes caught mine and held them. “How is that even possible?”

  I shrugged and looked down, my confidence faltering.

  But he touched my chin and lifted it until our eyes met. “Well,” he said softly, “I think I’d like to be the one who crosses that off, too.”

  He leaned in, our breath mingling, and then…he kissed me.

  For something I’d thought so much about, something I’d anticipated for so many years, I found myself stiff and still and unsure. His lips pressed mine—not too hard, not too soft, wet but not too wet.

  Perfectly adequate by all scales I had at my disposal—which, admittedly, weren’t vast.

  The kiss was fine, sweet even, if not a little sterile. But the admission in my sinking heart was that there were no fireworks, no marching band, no parting of the heavens or a hallelujah chorus. And, by more normal expectations, there was no spark, no instinctive recognition or undeniable bond between us.

  Maybe I’d read too many romance novels to expect anything less than to have my breath stolen and my heart singing promises of forever.

  When he pulled away, he smiled that indulgent smile of his, and I smiled back, hoping I looked reassuring as I nestled into his side.

  I’d expected magic, and I’d gotten mediocre.

  I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was.

  It had to be due to my complete lack of experience. I had probably been the worst kiss of his life. That was the only explanation because the date was perfect. The company and conversation was perfect. If the kiss really had been lackluster—I was already trying to rewrite history in my mind—it had to be on me and my lack of practice.

  I smiled to myself, hoping practice would make that perfect, too.

  “So, if you’ve never been kissed, is it safe to assume you’ve never had a boy
friend either?” he asked, his thumb shifting back and forth on my arm.

  “I haven’t,” I admitted. “No one’s caught my attention before.”

  “I’m the first for that too? It’s dangerous how good that makes me feel.”

  I nestled a little closer, smiling up at the stars.

  “Think you might want a boyfriend?” The words were cautious, maybe even a little nervous.

  “Are you asking me to go steady?” I teased.

  A little chuckle escaped him. “I know it’s corny, but the truth is, I really like you, Annie. I don’t want to see anyone else, and I hope you don’t either. On top of the possibility that I could get addicted to checking off your firsts.”

  When I leaned away and looked into his eyes, his smile dazzling and his warm hand finding my cheek, there was nothing I could say but yes. And he kissed the word away until it was gone.

  Take What You Can Get

  Greg

  Two tickets to the ballet were in the process of burning a hole in my pocket.

  Rose had handed them over with a smug smile this morning, and into my back pocket they went along with a healthy helping of that trap that called itself hope.

  I’d convinced myself that Will was temporary—a traffic cone, not a cement barrier. He’d declared himself before I was able to, but it was still early enough that I could take another shot.

  I tried not to think about what would happen if she committed. Because as much as I hated Will, if he was who she wanted, I wouldn’t stand in her way. He was a punk and an asshole, but if I tried to prove it to Annie, it would be me who was the asshole, not him.

  My greatest hope was that it wouldn’t be an issue. I’d take her out, show her what we could be together, and hope she would choose me.

  When Annie walked into work with that smile on her face and her arms filled with a giant pink pastry box, that hope multiplied in size by at least five.

  “Hey,” she said cheerily as she approached, setting the box on the surface of the bar. “Gotcha something.”

  “And it’s not even my birthday.”

  She laughed and hopped up onto a stool where she began pulling off her yellow coat and pink gloves. “Go on; open it.”

  I spun the box around and flipped the lid open. Inside were two-dozen donuts, stacked at an angle in matching pairs so they could all fit. Little flags on toothpicks noted the names of a dozen donut shops in Annie’s handwriting.

  She giggled, bouncing in her seat. “I hated that I couldn’t go with you yesterday, and I thought, What better way to thank you for such a thoughtful gift? So I forced my poor driver to haul me all over Manhattan this morning, and I got two donuts from each place, one for each of us.” She held up her hands and shook them like tambourines. “Ta-da!”

  I couldn’t help but laugh—not only at the sheer joy on her face, but at the jazz hands and kindness and sweetness that only Annie could possess.

  “This is…” I said as I assessed the spread, my confidence flying. “This is pretty great, Annie. Thank you.”

  “No, thank you for bringing me the map.” She leaned on the bar and looked into the box, wetting her lips. “Where should we start? I have to say, Lekker smelled the best. I got these blueberry-lemon things with cream-cheese frosting. These.” She pointed. “We’ve got to go back there. It’s just right around the corner.”

  My smile wouldn’t quit. “Funny, that was the first thing I thought when I noticed it on the map.”

  “Did you? Well, it must be fate. We’ve gotta start there.” Annie picked them both up, extending one to me. “Cheers!”

  She tapped hers to mine, and we each took a bite.

  It melted in my mouth, and a moan rumbled up my throat. “Oh God.”

  Annie’s eyes closed. “Is this what heaven is like?”

  “It has to be close.” I took another bite and shook my head. “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “I really wanted to surprise you, and I felt like scum when I left here yesterday.”

  Guilt washed over me. “I’m sorry, Annie. I should have texted you to make plans instead of showing up here and putting you on the spot.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. Really. I’ve never had a social calendar before, so having overlapping plans is a new thing for me.” She beamed as she took a bite.

  I grabbed a couple of glasses and set them on the bar, filling them with ice and water as I asked a question I didn’t want to know the answer to, “So, how’d it go yesterday?”

  Annie was so happy, it looked like sunshine was shooting out of her eyeballs. “Oh, he took me on a picnic in the park. It was gorgeous; there was this big, pretty plaid and a basket and tiny cakes and everything, and he had all these fancy cheeses I’d never even heard of. And then he hired a carriage to drive us around the park. I crossed so many things off my list and went through two packs of film! Check it out.” She reached into her bag and rummaged.

  I tried to smile, setting her glass in front of her. “Well, you named two firsts—picnic and carriage ride. What else?”

  Her cheeks flushed prettily, and she smiled with her lips together, her eyes on her hands as she arranged tiny Polaroids on the bar next to the donut box. “First kiss, and he asked me to be his girlfriend, can you believe it?”

  My heart seized painfully in my chest, and almost every muscle in my body involuntarily flinched.

  My first thought: That Motherfucker.

  And then: Going steady? What is he? In junior high?

  With the grand finale of: I’m going to fucking kill him.

  Annie finally looked up, her face shifting, watching me like I might erupt like a volcano. She wasn’t far off.

  “I…I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. I know you don’t like him.”

  “That’s a massive understatement, Annie.” The low rumbling in my throat was almost a growl.

  “But tell me there’s a way for you to be civil. I don’t need for you to be friends, but you’re my friend, Greg. I don’t want to lose you because I’m with him. And I don’t want to lose him because I care about you. Please, don’t be mad.”

  “I’m not mad at you,” I snapped. “It’s just that I…” Wish you were mine.

  Confusion passed across her face, then some recognition, followed by a succession of stunned blinks. “Greg…do you…do you like me? Like, more than friends?”

  If only I could tell her the truth. But nothing would come from that admission other than me losing Annie for good. And with her looking at me like she was, there was no way to dodge her. I had to answer, and it had to be clear.

  So, I huffed with a shake of my head and lied to salvage whatever I could from the wreckage.

  “Of course not, Annie. I’m just worried about you. I care about you.”

  The relief on her face was accompanied by a hot twist of pain in my chest. “I care about you too, Greg. You’re my friend. And the thought of upsetting you upsets me.” She shook her head and glanced down at her hands.

  I had no idea what to say.

  In a handful of minutes, the game had changed on me once again, sparked by that word.

  Boyfriend.

  Which meant she considered herself his girlfriend.

  Which meant she had made a commitment, one I couldn’t question. Because questioning that would put her in the most unfair of positions. I wouldn’t only be forcing her to make a decision that could jeopardize our friendship, but I’d be asking her to betray a promise she’d made to another man.

  Will Fucking Bailey.

  My anger fired up like a goddamn steam engine at the thought of him. I hated to lose her, but to lose her to someone like Will was unbearable. He’d taken her on an idyllic, cheeseball Hollywood date, and he’d kissed her—her first kiss. Of course he’d kissed her. I would have kissed her too, if I’d had a real chance.

  But she didn’t want me.

  She wanted him. She’d promised him. And there was nothing I could do about it.
/>   So I reached into my back pocket and pulled out the ballet tickets, my plan singed to ashes under the smoldering remains of my hope.

  “Annie, let me tell you something.” I waited until she looked up and met my eyes before continuing, “All I want is for you to be happy, and you are. I saw it on your face when you walked in, and I see it when you talk about him. And if you’re happy, I’m happy.” I handed the tickets over. “I have these tickets to the ballet…you should go with Will.”

  Annie took the tickets with eyes as bright as Christmas morning, running the pad of her finger over the title. “Romeo and Juliet?”

  I offered another weak smile. “Rose’s best friend is with the New York City Ballet.”

  She looked confused. “Well, thank you. But…why do you have them? Were they for you and me?”

  “You said you’d never been to a Broadway show, and this isn’t a musical, but it’s actually on Broadway.”

  “You didn’t answer me.”

  I watched her for a moment. “Yeah, but you should go with your boyfriend.”

  Her face shifted; the corners of her lips slipped down as her brows gently came together, and her eyes, which were already so big and shining, somehow grew in both size and depth. “What do you mean? Do you not want to go with me anymore? Are you…are you mad at me?”

  “No,” I said as sick sadness wound through my guts and up into my chest, squeezing my heart until it stung. “No, I’m not mad at you, Annie.” The words were soft and serious.

  “Tell me what happened with Will.” She searched my face, her sadness blooming. “He…he told me about your sister, and I—”

  My jaw clamped shut. “What did he tell you?” I asked through my teeth. “Because he’s a liar, Annie.”

  “Only his side. I’ve wanted to talk to you for days, but I’ve barely seen you to ask to hear yours. Please, tell me.”

  I drew a long breath and chose my words very carefully. “He dated my sister in high school.”

  She nodded, encouraging me to continue. I didn’t want to. But I did.

  “He’s the master of saying all the right things at exactly the right time, and the longer it went on, the clearer it became that he didn’t care about her at all. He’s selfish and entitled, they fought constantly. And she accepted that behavior because she loved him. She broke up with him at a party, and there were rumors, rumors that had started with Will, all because he didn’t get his way.”