Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  “Mama,” I breathed, emotion pinching my lungs and heart.

  Tears slid down her cheeks, but her voice was steady and sure. “What I mean to say is that I chose love, and I’d choose it again. I chose him over everything—family, money, career—because it was the only way for me to be happy, truly happy. Someday, you’ll find a love like that. You’ll find someone you love beyond anything in this world, and when you do, you have to choose that love and let it guide you. It’s all I wish for you girls—to love someone that much and be loved in equal measure.”

  “But what about now? Now that it’s gone?”

  She smiled, her breath hitching with a silent sob. “Oh, it’s not gone, baby. It lives here.” She touched her chest. “I’ll miss him until I draw my last breath, but his love made my life rich and full and meaningful. His love gave me three beautiful daughters, each who remind me every day of him—your smile and your eyes and your love for beauty in ordinary things, Elle’s quiet nature and care for others above herself, Meg’s laugh and uncanny ability to retain facts.”

  A small laugh escaped me, and I brushed tears from my face.

  “Anyway,” she said with a sigh that brought her composure, picking up a stack of books on the small table next to her, “I’m glad you have your things. Where are you going to put Lisa Kleypas?”

  “Next to Eloisa James and Julia Quinn. Where else?”

  She laughed and handed them over, and over the next hour, she helped me sort through it all until the massive shelf was packed ceiling to floor. And all the while, I thought over her admissions, sifting through my feelings and hers.

  Deep down, I knew Will wasn’t the kind of man my father was, and I knew that Will and I didn’t have that magic, that awakening or devotion between us. I did have a lot of feelings though, feelings that hung in my mind like a fog, too vague to pinpoint without them disappearing.

  I had a lot of feelings, but I didn’t know how I felt.

  Part of me wanted to hunt down an answer, but the rest of me said I should take the gift of a beautiful man who went so far out of his way to make me happy.

  Greg’s face flashed through my thoughts, my heart skipping a hard beat with a jolt. Because he fit that description just as much as Will did.

  The difference was that I didn’t question Greg at all, not once. I trusted him implicitly.

  But did I trust Will?

  It was a question I couldn’t answer as easily as I would like, especially not after last night. I wondered how Greg would have handled it, handled me, but I only imagined he would have treated me with care and respect and quiet joy.

  And I let myself wish for a moment that it could have been him instead.

  Do vs. Feel

  Greg

  The fabric of my tie zipped as I tugged the knot apart for what had to be the tenth time.

  I hissed a swear and lined up the tails, my eyes on my hands reflected in my bedroom mirror.

  “Having trouble?”

  I glanced behind me to find Sarah leaning against the doorframe, smiling. I grumbled a nonresponse.

  This time, I’d pulled too tight. I huffed and pulled the knot out again.

  “Nervous?” she asked.

  “Does it show?”

  “Not at all,” she joked. “I haven’t gotten the Annie update in a couple of days. Is she still…are they still together?”

  My teeth clenched. “As far as I know. We have a sort of unspoken rule not to discuss him. But the last couple of days, she’s been under house arrest working on her Juilliard application.”

  “That’s good. She probably hasn’t seen him either. And tonight, you’re going out, and you’re wearing that suit. There’s no way she’ll be able to resist you.”

  A dry laugh huffed out of me. “Well, suit or not, we’re just friends, so I couldn’t say. In fact, I’m not sure how I got myself into this. Goddamn it,” I mumbled, the knot ruined again.

  Sarah chuckled and pushed off the doorframe, walking around me to take the tie tails from me. “Here, let me.” Her hands went to work. “I think I know how you got yourself into this; you care about her.”

  “And she isn’t available.”

  She frowned, her head tilting as she worked on the knot. “You can’t give up. Greg, you’ve got to get her away from Will.”

  “I know, but Sarah…I don’t know what to say to change her mind.”

  “You told her what Will did, right? You told her he’s not a good guy?”

  I sighed. “I can’t warn her off just because I don’t like him. I can’t do that to her. I can’t put her in that position. And telling her the details of the rumors your ex-boyfriend told about you in high school, as much of a nightmare as that was for you, wasn’t enough to warn her off from him for good. And if I push it, I’d look like a crazy person. I can’t force her to choose me. I can’t force her to leave him. She has to make her own decision, and I have to let her. And as hard as it is, all I can do is be her friend. All I can do is take what I can get and be there for her as best I can.”

  Her eyes were on her fingers as she smoothed my perfect tie, her face tight, throat working as she swallowed. “I just…I’m so afraid she’s going to get hurt.”

  My chest ached, my voice softening. “Hey, don’t worry, okay? Annie’s going to be all right.”

  “It’s just…Greg, I’ve been wanting to talk to you—”

  Dad knocked on the doorframe. “Thought you might want to know you’re about to miss your date.”

  I glanced at my watch with a whirl of anxiety and swore. “Sorry, let’s talk later, okay?” I planted a kiss on her cheek and reached for my suit coat. “See you guys tomorrow,” I called as I left the room, then the apartment with my strides long and my heart thumping.

  The cab ride across the park was quiet but for my thoughts, which wouldn’t quiet, wouldn’t slow down. My wonder over what Sarah had wanted to talk about was quickly washed away by the force of anticipation of Annie, worrying over what the night would hold as much as I was eager to live every moment. And my nerves just wouldn’t stop, not when I stepped out onto the sidewalk and not as I rode the elevator up to her uncle’s penthouse.

  Especially not when the door opened to a cacophony of barking dogs.

  I couldn’t help but laugh and pet them as an older woman did her best to wrangle while attempting to greet me over the pack of happy dogs. Elle made her way in and hugged me hello, introducing me to Susan before we fought our way past the dogs and inside.

  “Sorry for the noise,” Susan said, her cheeks pink from exertion. “I love the beasts, but they have no manners.”

  “It’s no trouble.”

  Elle took my arm and ushered me in a little further. “Greg, I’d like to introduce you to our mother, Emily.”

  A beautiful woman with Annie’s green eyes and wild blonde hair smiled up at me from where she sat in her wheelchair, extending a hand.

  “Nice to meet you. We’ve heard so much about you,” she said.

  Her hand was warm in mine. “Likewise. It’s a pleasure.”

  “And this is Meg, our younger sister.” Elle gestured to a bright-eyed, smiling little girl who thrust her hand out for a shake.

  When I took it, she squeezed with surprising strength and pumped it like a pro.

  I just stepped back when I saw Annie.

  She entered the room with the lightness I’d come to associate only with her. Her hair was shining and golden, smoothed and pinned into a twist. The dress she wore was a shade of navy so dark, it was nearly black, the neck high and sleeves capped, tailored at her small waist, but the skirt was flared and shifted against her thighs with every step.

  I found myself unable to breathe; all the air had been drawn from the room the moment she walked in.

  Annie smiled and made her way over. “Sorry I’m a little late. Are you ready?”

  I managed to swallow and nod.

  She kissed her mother on the cheek as Meg grabbed her around the waist and squeeze
d. And with another kiss for Elle, we were saying our goodbyes and waving our way out the door.

  When the elevator doors closed, she sighed. “Your suit is gorgeous, Greg.”

  Amusement and pride lifted one corner of my lips. “Not nearly as gorgeous as your dress.”

  She smoothed her skirt, blushing. “Thank you. I have on heels and everything! I just hope I don’t break an ankle.”

  I offered my elbow. “Guess you’ll just have to hang on to me.”

  And she slipped her hand into the crook of my arm, smiling up at me. “Guess I will.”

  “Mmm,” Annie hummed an hour later, her eyes closing for a brief moment. “You have to try this.”

  She sliced off a piece of her chicken Kiev and spun her plate to put it in front of me.

  I speared it, making sure it was well acquainted with the mushroom sauce before bringing it to my lips. “Mmm,” I echoed when it hit my tongue.

  Annie forked another bite of my Stroganoff, watching me eat with cheerful pleasure. “I know.”

  As I helped myself to another piece of her chicken, her eyes wandered from my face to our surroundings. We were secluded in a wraparound booth in the back corner of the Russian Tea Room. I’d been here a couple of times before, and when Cam had suggested it, I had known Annie would understand the magic and mood of the place and not only embrace it but amplify it.

  The room was brilliant and rich and a little over the top—from the gold-leaf ceiling to the deep emeralds and blood reds of the walls and booths and carpet. Antique samovars shone from perches all over the restaurant—from the walls to the ledges between booths, their curved spouts proud and beautiful, their wide bellies waiting for tea. The walls were adorned with an eclectic mix of paintings in gilded frames; the one above our booth couldn’t have been more appropriate.

  I’d noticed it the second we walked up, inspecting it while Annie shrugged out of her coat and slipped into the booth. It was quirky and imperfect; a dark man in a dark suit stood in the foreground, patchwork hills stretching off behind him, and his hand held that of a lady who floated up and away, her face turned to him and her feet closer to the sun than the earth, her red dress caught in the wind.

  It was Annie, light and floating away, and I was hanging on to her with blind devotion.

  “So,” she said with a secretive smile on her face, “I have something to tell you.”

  I smiled, ignoring a jolt of wishful thinking that her admission could be the words I longed to hear. “Oh?”

  She nodded. “I sent my audition to Juilliard today.”

  “Oh my God, did you?”

  “Mmhmm!” she hummed proudly, her back straight as an arrow and smile sweet and pretty. “Thank God I knew so much of the material already. All I’ve done the last few days is practice and do trial recordings, but I finally got it all put together, and man, I only hope I’ve got a real shot.”

  “Well, you did your best, right?”

  “I did,” she answered.

  “Do you think it’s good enough?”

  “I do,” she said with her shining eyes on mine.

  “Then you did what you came to do. And now, you wait.”

  She groaned, the brief seriousness broken. “I hate waiting.”

  I chuckled and scooped a bite of Stroganoff up with my fork. “No…you? Impatient? I never would have guessed.”

  “I know; I’m the picture of restraint.”

  We both laughed, and Annie picked up her fork and knife again, her eyes on her hands as she spoke.

  “I told you about how my parents scrimped and saved to put me through lessons, making deals with Mrs. Schlitzer, although I think she was glad to teach me. Maybe because we both loved it so much, more than anyone else we knew. Don’t get me wrong. People tried to understand, but I don’t know that anyone without a passion could understand true passion. It’s easier to describe obsession, which is, I guess, almost the same thing. Like saying you’re particular instead of picky.”

  I took another bite, content to listen to her talk as she was content to speak.

  “But what a wonderful way to repay them all for what they’ve done for me. Juilliard,” she said with a wondrous shake of her head. “I wonder what Daddy would have thought.”

  “Well, I didn’t know him, but I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have been proud.”

  “I wish…” She shook her head. “You already know what I wish for. I’m sure you’d wish the same.”

  “Yes, I would.”

  “Wish in one hand, shit in the other. See which fills up first.”

  A brief, unexpected laugh burst out of me.

  She shrugged, but she was smiling. “Something my pops used to say. A little nugget of grandfatherly wisdom he left me with.”

  “Do you have any other family? Besides your mom and sisters?”

  “Daddy’s parents died before I started junior high, and my dad was an only child. My mom’s parents are alive, but I’ve never met them.”

  “Where do they live?”

  “Here in New York.”

  I must have looked surprised because she explained, “They didn’t approve of Daddy, wanted her to marry someone they knew, someone with breeding and a family name, not a woodworker from Nowhere, Texas, who hadn’t even gone to college. When she made her choice, they cut her off.”

  “Jesus,” I breathed. “I will never understand what would bring someone to put that much of their own expectations on their child.”

  “Me either. We didn’t talk about them at all, growing up. My uncle—the one we’re staying with—wanted to help, but Mama’s as proud and stubborn as her own parents. My parents tried to make things work, even with all my medical bills and lessons and…well, with everything. It was why they didn’t have much when Daddy died.”

  I nodded, swallowing hard. “When my mom died, the medical bills were—are a small fortune. With Dad unable to work, there was nothing we could do but move in with him and help him pay the debt down. There was no money saved. Everything had gone to keeping her alive after her diagnosis.”

  “It’s so crazy to me that we have insurance for exactly these reasons, but what we’re left with after insurance pays is enough to rob a family of everything they have. My first open-heart surgery was at three weeks old. Can you imagine? To have a baby so sick that you have to rely on science to save them and then have to pay for their life for the duration of yours?” Her hands moved into her lap, and she met my eyes with her entire heart shining in hers. “My parents sacrificed so much for me. I wish they’d accepted help from my uncle, so they wouldn’t have had to suffer like they did. So they could have enjoyed their lives before…before…”

  I reached into her lap for her hands, slipping my fingers through hers as my throat locked up.

  She sighed and met my eyes with a smile that spoke to me of optimism and strength. “Even when we can’t go on, we go on. Because the world keeps turning and the clock keeps ticking and our hearts keep beating even if we sometimes wish they would just stop. And so what else can we do with that inevitable time but honor the ones we lost by finding joy again? I’ve come to find that it’s the only way I’ve been able to stitch what’s left of me back together.”

  I drew a breath from deep in my lungs and let it slip out of me. “Where in the world did you come from, Annie?”

  She smiled. “Out in the sticks and rivers.”

  “Must have been a good place to hide.”

  “Oh, it was. But I was never one for hiding.”

  “No,” I said softly, “I don’t suppose you were.”

  She turned back to her dinner, and the conversation drifted to easier things, things with less rust and pain. But mostly I just listened to her, watched her. Heard her. Saw her.

  It wasn’t her eyes, as wide and vibrant as they were, and it wasn’t the swell or bow of her lips, as soft and lovely as they were. It wasn’t the shine in her golden hair, and it wasn’t her long, elegant fingers. It was Annie herself. Her beauty burned
in her chest, in a heart that beat without rhythm.

  And for a moment, everything was perfect.

  The girl sitting at my elbow. The smile on her face. The way her bright eyes drank in the twinkling opulence and undemanding charm of the restaurant. The way her creamy skin looked against the crimson of the booth.

  Perfect, except for one thing.

  I’d tried to convince myself I could be her friend and nothing more. I’d considered the earnestness of her feelings, the depths I knew to be true; she cared for me and wanted me, just not in the way I wanted her.

  I’d told myself I would take her any way I could get her. But the moment I’d first seen her tonight, I’d caught a glimpse of the truth; the task would not be simple or easy. And with every passing minute, that truth became more apparent, more invasive.

  I couldn’t be Annie’s friend.

  All things had a line that, once crossed, could not be stepped back over. And I had reached that line, passed it without realizing until I looked down. But instead of finding myself in her arms, I was pressed against the glass, the separation between us as thin as it was impenetrable.

  And despite that knowledge, I didn’t want to be anywhere else but exactly where I was.

  Before we left the restaurant, I took her upstairs to the Bear Lounge. But I didn’t see the bear aquarium or the perch swimming around in his vast belly; I saw her face bright with wonder as she peered inside, holding her breath. I didn’t see the glass ceiling; I saw the colored lights on her cheeks and bridge of her nose as she tipped her small chin up to look. I didn’t see the tree laden with glass eggs; I saw Annie with her fingertips pressed to her parted lips as she stepped under the branches, reaching for my hand without looking to pull me under with her.

  But she’d pulled me under long before that moment.

  Annie

  I watched behind a curtain of tears as the music crescendoed and Romeo ran to Juliet’s stone pedestal where she lay dead. Blinking only cleared my vision for a moment at a time, and I fought the urge to close my eyes.

  I didn’t want to miss a single thing.