None of it made any sense to Elizabeth.Too much, too soon. You can’t fall in love with someone if you don’t even know his favorite color. It was the smart girl mantra: ask, then verify. If he says he loves romantic comedies, make him watch a few and monitor his reaction. Does he roll his eyes or have to clear his throat during the sad, achy, yearning scenes? If he says he’s handy around the house, go blow a fuse or loosen some screws and see how much prompting he needs to ask for a screwdriver. Bonus points if he carries a Swiss Army knife.
Breathing hard and feeling a cramp in her under-exercised leg, she pulled up. She’d been running too fast, running from the memories and regrets of the past eight months. So much for that hard-earned master’s degree. She was an idiot: misled by George Wickham, fooled by a few jocks, and blinded by her own stupidity. Fitzwilliam Darcy was not an arrogant ladies’ man. He wasn’t a wounded, angry jerk who, crippled by great loss, had closed himself off to the world. He was, she knew now, a man she wished to know better.
He was everything that George Wickham was not. Which one had led her along the primrose path to possible ruin? Which one had sheallowedto lead her? She thought she’d been cautious. While Darcy was everything awkward around her, she’d at least recognized that George was a little too glib and a little too eager to cast aspersions on Darcy and his mother. So she’d used him and his networking skills for her own career ends. The laugh was on her. He’d usedherbig time and screwed her career, her company, and the man he’d wanted her to hate—the man Wickham hated but whom he’d intuited had a weakness for Elizabeth Bennet.Touché, Mr. Wickham. You’re such a scumbag.Grimacing, she sprinted up the steps and went inside for a shower.
She was finishing a salad when Charlotte called, anxious to have lunch and disappointed to learn her best friend would be out of town. “Good stuff, I hope?”
Elizabeth sighed and dismissed her own troubles with a quick, “Always is. What’s up with you?”
“I met a guy! His name is Bill!” squealed the normally low-key, sarcastic accountant. “It’s weird; he knows Charles. They hung out in Vegas at the Consumer Electronics Show.”
Even through the fog of her own unhappiness, Elizabeth leapt to an unhappy conclusion.But it couldn’t be. Bill Collins?
“He’s not my usual type, but I can work on him,” Charlotte added quickly. “He’s the kind of guy who actually loves rom-comsandthe Food Network, and he has cats and a gecko, which I think is adorable.”
“Wow. He sounds?—”
“And I know I’m running off at the mouth, but you know what? We’re both sensible people, and I think we both know what we want. He had Lasik surgery a couple of months ago, and I think I’m going to do it too! I’m so tired of wearing contacts!”
Elizabeth blanched. She hadn’t talked to Charlotte in a week or two. How on earth had this happened to her oh-so-sensible friend? When?
“Are you sure? This is sounding serious.”
“Yeah, it’s serious. God, who knew? Me? Oh, and we both like the suburbs!”
Elizabeth listened dazedly for a few more minutes until Charlotte suddenly noticed her friend’s silence. “Lizzy? I’m sorry, I never asked you. How was your weekend with the family?”
“It was nice. Jane and Charles are still adorable. Not even Lydia and Mary can dampen their cuteness.”
“Maybe Bill and I can tag-team with Jane and Charles and teach those girls how to love puppies and rainbows.”
Elizabeth laughed. It felt good. “Don’t forget the unicorns.”
Wisconsin wasn’t quite perfect. Elizabeth ventured to a fish boil and was game enough to taste her first cheese curds, which she promptly spat into her napkin. She gained an excellent interview with a wonderful young woman, and the test photos showed off her winning smile to great advantage. The gymnast-turned-coach also proved impressive. Elizabeth was happy to return home with two solid stars and a renewed commitment to the project’s success. But when she arrived at the airport, racing to make her flight, she discovered her phone battery was dead, she’d left her charger in the rental car, and she could barely remember the office number for Philips/Hill.
Three minutes after she walked in her front door, Elizabeth had her phone plugged in and charging, and was listening to twelve voicemails. Her eyes grew wider with each new message.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Fitzwilliam Darcy lifted his glass to the blushing blonde across the table from him.
“I apologize for being more than two months late, but the sentiment is heartfelt. You are a wonderfully capable and highly valued executive assistant.”
The young woman lifted her glass as well. “Secretaries Day is not that important, Mr. Darcy. I mean, I appreciate it, but it’s just symbolic. And you were…well, April was a hard month for you.”
He flushed.
“I understand why you worked at home so much,” Sara said quickly. “Losing Coco…I mean, we still miss her at the office. I can only imagine how hard it was at home. Is.”
Darcy’s throat was dry, but his eyes were not. He bent his head to take a long drink and refocus his thoughts. Sara was still talking. She was usually quiet, but this lunch was bringing out her bubbly side. Thank God they were only drinking water.
“Well, I know you didn’t always bring Coco to the office before I was hired, but she was a part of the place, you know? I looked forward to seeing her every morning.”
Sara gazed at her boss. His attention had turned to the menu.
“Someday, I hope you’ll find a new dog as sweet as Coco.” She patted the scarf draped around her neck. “But I really appreciate lunch. And the scarf…it’s beautiful.”
Darcy glanced up at the young woman and smiled.
