Austen Box Set

by Hart, Staci

  I finally settled on, The ballet was beautiful. What did you do last night?

  Within seconds of sending the message, he was typing. I waited, watching those little dots.

  Sat around here, thinking about how much I hated that you were with him.

  My stomach turned over. I’m sorry.

  Just not sorry enough to have stayed home in the first place?

  Tears blurred my vision. It doesn’t matter anyway. You were right. Greg has feelings for me, and we can’t be friends anymore.

  For a second, nothing happened, and I imagined Will was stunned, reading the message over and over again. Did he make a pass at you?

  No. He knows I’m with you, I answered painfully.

  Dammit, Annie. You should have listened when I told you he liked you.

  I know, I typed, not feeling like I knew much of anything. Are you angry?

  Greg is an asshole, and he always has been. I don’t want you anywhere near him.

  I wondered briefly how much of that had to do with the wild differences in their stories about Greg’s sister. And the following realization was that I believed Greg more.

  Well, that’s going to be hard to do since we work together.

  Do you really think you should be working there anyway? It’s not like you have to work, and with your heart and your surgery, it’s not good for you.

  You sound like my mother, I typed, which was poised like a joke, but it wasn’t. At all.

  I’m just saying. What about if you get into Juilliard?

  Then I guess I’ll deal with it then. I fumed, my thumbs flying with as much anger as thumbs could muster. That job is the best thing in my life right now.

  Not me?

  I frowned, my fingers tapping with enough force to make noise as I answered him. Of course you too, and my sisters and Juilliard. And Greg, I wanted to add. Except he wasn’t going to be in my life anymore. I can’t believe you suggested that I quit.

  I can’t believe you went on a date with another guy, but here we are.

  It wasn’t a date, and you know it.

  Tell Greg that.

  A frustrated tear charged down my cheek as I tossed my phone onto the empty side of the bed.

  It was unfair, so unfair of him to treat me this way. He was petty and jealous, accusing and demanding.

  Really, he was even more of a child than I was.

  Greg never would have spoken to you like that, I thought, calling fresh tears to my eyes.

  I climbed out of bed, reaching for my bathrobe on my way out of my room, still tugging it on when I knocked on Elle’s door.

  A sleepy Come in had me doing just that.

  Elle propped herself up in bed with a smile that immediately fell when she saw me. “Annie? What’s the matter?”

  I closed the door, my chin flexing and cheeks tingling with a surge of anger and shame and hurt simply because she’d asked the question.

  I didn’t speak until I was in bed with her.

  “Greg and I had a fight,” I managed just before a sob escaped.

  “Oh, Annie. What happened?”

  “He…he…” I stammered, trying to catch my breath. “He said we couldn’t be friends anymore because he had feelings for me.”

  Elle nodded and reached for my hand.

  “I didn’t know. I really didn’t. How is that possible? How could I possibly be so s-s-stupid?” For a second, I couldn’t say more. “I hurt him without meaning to, and now…now…”

  I broke down again, and she smoothed my hair.

  “Shh, it’s all right.”

  “But it’s not. It’s not all right; nothing is all right. Will is angry that I went last night even though I told him I was going to be friends with Greg whether he wanted me to or not and even though he’d agreed not to give me flak. He was still mad after I told him Greg and I were through.” Fresh pain twisted in my chest. “He even suggested I quit the bookstore just to keep me away from Greg. How ludicrous is that?”

  “He’s jealous. He and Greg don’t get along, but you told him no and Greg yes.”

  “Yeah, but Will is my boyfriend. I thought that meant he understood he had some…precedence.”

  Her brows drew together in something close to pity. “You barely know him, and he barely knows you. It takes time to build trust.”

  “So, what—because he’s my boyfriend, I should just do whatever he wants? Let him tell me who I can and can’t spend my time with?” I shot.

  “Of course not. I’m not saying he’s right. But he had a feeling Greg liked you, and so did I. Do you really mean to say you didn’t have any idea about Greg?”

  “How could I have known? He never came on to me, never told me of his feelings. Will is an open book—he says what he feels and what he wants. From the first second I met him, he pursued me. And Greg did nothing to signal that he wanted to be with me. He was my friend. How could I have known he felt otherwise?”

  That look was still on her face, and even though I knew it was compassion, it stung. “Not all love is loud and assuming. Sometimes it’s silent, especially when it puts someone else’s happiness above its own.”

  “My happiness,” I mused. Fresh tears fell as my heart galloped in my ribs. “I don’t know what makes me happy. I’m just a girl, a stupid, foolish girl with a silly list of meaningless things. I’m a skinny, sickly, naive child who couldn’t see what was right in front of her, and now, I’ve lost it. I’ve lost him.”

  “Oh, Annie,” she whispered and pulled me into her.

  I tucked myself into her chest and cried until my breath was even, and she held me, stroking my hair and letting me be.

  “Just because something is obvious doesn’t mean it’s right or honest. Sometimes it’s how people hide things, behind shine and flash. Sometimes, that flash is meant to blind you.”

  I pulled back to look at her, suspicious. “What do you mean?”

  She seemed to choose her words very carefully. “Only that I’ve met both of them, and I find myself trusting one over the other.”

  “And you deduced this in the few minutes you talked to them both?” And then I had a thought that set my mouth opening in surprise. “What did Greg tell you? At the bar?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Nothing specific, only that Will hurt someone he loves. Greg cares about you, Annie. But I’m not convinced Will does.”

  “How could you possibly know that?” I asked as I climbed out of her bed.

  “It only took those few minutes with Greg to know that he cares for you and that he wants to protect you. Would you say the same for Will? Would you say, right now, with him wanting you to leave your job that he’s trying to protect you or himself? Greg has done nothing but prove that he’s worthy of your trust. He’s been everything you want, even at the cost of his own happiness. Has Will?”

  It was as close to a scolding that I’d maybe ever gotten from her, and I found myself speechless for a moment as I looked her over where she sat in her bed, her face angry and flushed.

  “Annie, I know Will is handsome and charming. He says all the right things and makes all the right moves. But that doesn’t mean he’s right for you. That’s all I’m saying.”

  “Maybe things could have been different,” I said with a shaky voice, “but they’re not. We’re exactly where we are, and the train only goes one way. So, I appreciate your concern, but you don’t know either one of them.” I turned for the door, whipping it open with a whoosh.

  “No, but I know you, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “Too late,” I said, slamming the door behind me.

  I got dressed in a rush, swiping miserable, mad tears from my face, which was swollen and splotchy. But my irises were electric, sharp with the multitude of feelings they held.

  The apartment hummed with activity as everyone got ready for their workdays, but I made no unnecessary chatter and avoided contact with Elle entirely. She stood quietly in the kitchen watching me, not with anger or blame, only understanding
and forgiveness, which somehow upset me even more.

  The car was silent as I rode across town to work, the sky heavy with low gray clouds ready to drop their payload. And once at work, I stood outside the locked store as the first raindrops fell like a sigh.

  Greg stepped out from behind the bar, and with every footfall, my breath thinned. His hard jaw was tight and square, his brows heavy and the emotion in his midnight eyes locked down like a jail cell.

  The door swung open.

  I walked past him.

  He said nothing.

  I carried the weight of that moment as I hurried to the back and he moved back to the bar and whatever task he’d been occupied with. And I tried to tell myself it was fine, everything was fine, today would be fine.

  As it turned out, my day was anything but fine.

  My heart was in especially rare form, skipping and fluttering like moth wings, erratic and unsteady, which landed me on a stool behind the counter.

  A particularly aggressive customer argued with me for a solid five minutes about the price of a book. Ruby finally intervened after the lady yelled, You dumb hick at me.

  The bright spot was the Monte Cristo I ordered for lunch, but as I sat in the bar with Greg so close, I found I couldn’t eat.

  His presence was a dark void in my periphery, sucking away all the light, all my will, all my composure.

  What hurt worse than anything was the knowledge that he wasn’t angry; he was hurt, so hurt that he couldn’t even glance in my direction. He couldn’t bear my company, and I couldn’t blame him.

  Greg had bared his heart, and I had given him nothing in return. I hadn’t said anything; I’d been too confused and shocked to answer him. Even now, I didn’t know how to answer him, not exactly.

  What I did know was that Will wasn’t all I’d imagined him to be, and Greg was more than I could have possibly bargained for.

  The day wore on in a never-ending grind mill of minuscule injuries to my heart, one after another. Even when I thought the day was finally over and went to check out, my drawer was short six dollars and forty-two cents.

  Rose didn’t ask questions (past, Are you okay? To which I replied, Just a bad day). I started to cry a little, but she didn’t press me for more, just offered me a lollipop from Cam’s candy jar, which I took graciously. I paid the difference out of my pocket money, courtesy of Susan.

  I kept my puffy, bloodshot eyes forward and my chin up as I walked past the bar. He watched me; I could feel the heat of his gaze and the pain it carried, as if he were whispering them in my ear. And through the doors I went, waiting in the cold for the driver. But the cold didn’t bother me. In truth, I barely felt it. I was already numb.

  When I made it home, I gave cursory answers and excused myself to my room, but before I could reach its comforting confines, Elle appeared in her doorway.

  “Hey,” she said gently.

  “Hey,” I echoed as my nose began burning again.

  “I’m sorry for this morning, Annie. I didn’t mean to hurt you or upset you.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry, too.”

  She stepped into the hall and embraced me. “No, don’t be sorry. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

  “Sometimes, I need a good shove.”

  Elle chuckled and pulled away. “Rough day?”

  I sighed. “It’s that obvious?”

  “You look like you dropped your favorite earrings down the drain.”

  “Not far off, I guess.” I opened my bedroom door, and she followed me in.

  We both sat on the bed. Well, she sat. I sagged.

  “Was Greg there today?” she asked after a moment.

  I nodded. “Although I might as well not have been. He wouldn’t even look at me, Elle. I might as well have been a ghost.” I stared at my wardrobe and through the branches and bird painted on its doors. “I want to believe it will get easier. It has to, right? Time heals all wounds, and all that.”

  “I think it will. And maybe, after some time and space, Greg will come around. In life, all things are temporary.”

  “That’s both futile and comforting.”

  She smiled, lips together.

  “Will hasn’t texted me all day,” I admitted with another flash of pain. “I thought he might apologize. But…I really screwed up, didn’t I?”

  “No, that’s the thing. You didn’t do anything to hurt anyone on purpose.”

  “But does my intention really matter?”

  “I have to believe it does. To someone who loves you, intentions are everything.” She toyed with my hair. “Are you going to message him?”

  “What else can I even say? He hurt me, kept hurting me, even after I apologized. And I get that he’s angry, but I don’t know how to change that. I don’t know what to offer him.”

  She watched me for a moment, her fingers still fiddling with one of my curls. “Annie, I really am sorry about Will and Greg.”

  “Me too,” I said on a sigh that carried too many regrets to count.

  The doorbell rang, the sound followed by a clamor of barking at multiple octaves, and a moment later, I heard Aunt Susan excitedly calling my name.

  She swept into my room with her arms full of long boxes. “These just came for you. Whatever could they be?”

  I moved out of the way as she set them on the bed. An envelope was fixed to the top, the paper thick and soft, and my heart skittered as I opened it and read the letter inside.

  Annie,

  I’m sorry for my jealousy and for the harshness of my words this morning. I was wrong. I never have liked to share, and I’m not always as patient as I wish to be, but those are faults of mine, and I’m sorry I punished you for them.

  The dresses I promised are here for you. I hope you’ll forgive me. I’d do just about anything to see you in it. And, if not, I’ll only wish I could have been so lucky.

  Yours,

  Will

  I passed the note to Elle and reached for the box on top.

  “Well, what does it say?” Susan said from behind me, and Elle began to read it.

  But I didn’t hear them.

  I lifted the top of the sturdy red box and gasped.

  The empire-waisted dress was made of cream satin and silk chiffon, embroidered with beads that shimmered in the light, the neckline low and square, the back, I could see, dropped into a V. When I picked it up and saw it in full, I could have died from the sheer brilliance.

  Elle gasped.

  The skirts were made of the same delicate chiffon, the heavy hem scalloped and lined with more beads. It pooled on the ground, and the gathered silk in back spilled down to the floor in the slightest, most elegant train.

  “Oh my God,” I breathed. “How could I possibly wear this to a bar?”

  Susan laughed. “Easy. You put it on and go. Don’t you dare waste a dress like this.”

  Elle reached into the box. “Look, there are matching gloves and a fascinator. Annie, this is…”

  “I know,” I breathed. “Let’s look at yours.”

  I laid my dress down in its box and moved it out of the way. Pulling off the lid of the other box elicited gasps from all three of us at once.

  The gown was taffeta, the iridescent blue-green like that of a peacock feather. The empire waist was lined with delicate gold fringe, and a large, sweeping floral pattern was embroidered in shimmering gold down the front of the skirts and around the hem.

  “Well,” Susan said as we all gaped at the spoils Will had sent, “I think he’s maybe earned another chance. Don’t you think?”

  I picked up the note and read it again, touched the strong, square letters.

  At my fingertips was an apology from a man I cared about. I’d lost Greg, but Will was still here, still eager and willing. And if he could prove himself, maybe we could find our way back to the magic of the beginning.

  And so I decided to defer to my list, to my newfound outlook on life, my cure to move forward when life got hard. I would live in the moment an
d survive on my hopes.

  So with a smile, I said, “I believe he does, too.”

  Greg

  The second Annie walked out the doors and slipped into the black Mercedes, I threw my towel in the dish well with shaking hands and stormed to the back.

  All day, I had felt her there, so close and a world away. Her face was drawn, her nose red and eyes brilliant from crying.

  And those tears were because of me.

  A war had raged in my ribs between the desire to wipe those tears away and the knowledge that to do that, I’d only inflict more pain on myself. I’d almost been tempted despite the fact.

  Don’t be so fucking dramatic, I told myself, raking a hand through my hair. She’s just a girl.

  But that was a lie, and I knew it in my marrow. She wasn’t just any girl, and I couldn’t pretend like she was.

  “Uh, you okay?” Rose asked when she saw me wearing a track in the cement, her brows knit together in concern.

  “No, I’m not fucking okay,” I muttered and paced away from her like I had somewhere to go.

  “What happened?”

  “I took her to the ballet,” I answered, like that explained everything.

  She didn’t say anything, and when I turned to pace back toward her, her arms were folded as she waited for me to elaborate.

  “Lily didn’t realize Annie had a boyfriend who isn’t me.”

  “Oh God.” Her eyes widened. “Oh God. Cam!” she called over her shoulder.

  I turned again to stalk away. “After that, we got in the cab and I…I just couldn’t pretend anymore. I spilled it all, and I told her I couldn’t do it anymore.”

  When I turned again, Cam was at Rose’s side, and they wore matching expressions of shock and dismay.

  “Well, what did she say?” Cam asked.

  “Nothing. She said nothing.”

  I stopped in the middle of the room, hands hanging on my hips, my eyes searching the walls, then the ceiling for answers.

  “Greg, I’m so sorry.” Cam’s words were soft and sad and did absolutely nothing to ease my aching heart.

  “I can’t even fucking look at her.”

  “You’re mad?” Rose asked, surprised.