First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice (32 page)
Read First (Wrong) Impressions: A Modern Pride & Prejudice Online
Authors: Krista D. Ball
Tags: #Young Adult, #jane austen, #Fiction, #Romance, #books, #comedy, #krista d ball
@anabean: DJFO IUDFOID UFOIDSHFH#(&)#&(*$&^(*E&(*D
@ArtsyDan: Why the hell is everyone asleep?!?!?!
@ArtsyDan: @Doitlikearockstar Are you awake? NEWS! @Skater_J @luke_char News! @fitXzy
@anabean: GET OUT OF BED YOU PEOPLE THERE IS GOSSIP!!! @Skater_J @luke_char @fitXzy
@fitXzy: I JUST SAW MY TEXT MSG!!!! I AM TALKING IN CAPS @anabean
@anabean: I KNOW RIGHT!! @fitXzy
@Doitlikearockstar: What the hell? I need to turn off my Twitter alerts on my cell phone.
@luke_char: I’m texting you now. @Doitlikearockstar
@Doitlikearockstar: @luke_char Why dude?
@luke_char: @Doitlikearockstar Trust me.
@Doitlikearockstar OMFG SERIOUSLY?!?!? RIGHT NOW?!?!?
@ArtsyDan: FISTPUMP @Doitlikearockstar
@Caroline_Bingley: What’s going on? @charliebing Why is everyone up so early? @anabean
@charliebing: Ha! Just logged in. Hilarious. He took the phone from her & talked to @Skater_J! @anabean
@anabean: She did that to me! @charliebing
@anabean: I might die of happiness.
@Caroline_Bingley: Oh, just saw. Well, good for her. @anabean
@anabean: I want to run around the house squee-ing.
@luke_char: I’m so going to join you, @anabean!!
“Love. It makes everyone a poet,” Lizzy said, laughing.
Epilogue
August 25
“You’re wearing that?”
Lizzy looked down at her outfit. It was the same one she’d worn the night of her first “date” with William. “Well, I have a reputation to uphold at The Rich and Pompous Café. They’ve come to expect me to look like a peasant.” She narrowed her eyes. “Plus, our deal is that I only go to one poncey restaurant a month with you and this will be the third time. Don’t push me, mister.”
William pulled his tie around his neck and knotted it. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Third engagement this month. It’s practically a contagion.”
Lizzy went to the walk-in closet to pull down her brown handbag, but was too short. “William, can you grab my bag?”
He came over and snagged it for her, but not before swatting her behind. “You’re happy about your sister and Charles, right?”
She elbowed him in reply to the swat. “Absolutely. Jane and Charles are perfect for each other. And G and Danica have been together for years now. It’s time they got married.”
“What about Luke and Pastor Liam?” he said, bumping against her lightly.
She straightened his tie. “I’ll admit that I was…less certain about those two, but I have to admit they work well together. They’re nothing alike, but maybe opposites do attract.”
“Like us?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, and he did the same to her. “I think we’re more similar than I’d like to admit.”
“I’m glad you’re coming around.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “I don’t want to ruin your makeup. I�ll wait until tonight. God, I�ve missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” she said. She planted a soft kiss on his lips. “Hmm, my lipstick looks good on you.”
He tickled her and they stayed like that for a few more moments, before they broke the embrace to finish dressing. “Is Lydia coming down?”
Lizzy shook her head. “She’s too close, so Mom’s staying with her. Dad and Mary are coming, though.”
“How is Lydia doing? Any news?”
Lizzy shook her head. “Nothing new. George hasn’t violated his bail, unfortunately. He hasn’t tried to contact her after the last time where he said wasn’t the father. Oh, wait. She did get an email on the weekend where he wasn’t paying for the baby and all that shit. Lydia hasn’t forgiven him for the first email, let alone that. The train wreck is over.”
“Thank God. I get heartburn whenever I think he might be at Christmas dinners.”
“Not a prayer. Dad wouldn’t have let him anywhere near our house.”
“How is the apartment hunt going? Any luck today?”
Lizzy made a face. “Rent is so expensive in Calgary. I’m used to paying three hundred a month for my share of the house. Here, everything’s over a grand.”
“That’s because you lived in the ghetto, dear. I thought Fitzy was giving you consultant rates.”
“Oh, he is. The money he offered is obscene.”
“How much? He’s never told me and I’m too lazy to look it up.”
“Six figures.”
Darcy grinned. “You deserve it, love. Besides, this will look good on your resume.” His smile faded. “You could stay here.”
Lizzy stopped moving and turned slowly to look at him. “Permanently?”
William nodded. “The apartment is lonely without you.”
“Move in together?” Lizzy asked.
Darcy looked down. “I’m not ready to get married yet, Lizzy.”
“Oh, nor am I. It’s only been five months. I’m not ready. I know everyone else is ready for us to hitch the wagon or whatever it’s called, but I’m not.”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Are you just saying that?”
She joined him. “God, no. Don’t get me wrong. I love you and I love being around you. But I’m not ready for a wedding, you know?”
“I know. I’m ready to live together, though. Think about it?”
She nodded. “I will.”
William patted her leg and got up to put on his dinner jacket. Lizzy watched him. “I’d need my own space.”
He turned. “What?”
“I’d need my own office for my sewing machine and computer.”
“The condo has only three bedrooms, and Dani uses the spare room for painting.”
Lizzy walked over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “That’s the deal: I get an office. I need my own space with a door that locks.”
A smile spread across his face. “Do you want to start looking for a place tomorrow?”
Lizzy’s smile evaporated. “Seriously?”
“Is not having your own space what’s standing between us and living together?”
Lizzy thought about that for a moment. “Yes.”
“Then let’s find a place we can agree on. If such a structure exists.”
“Keep that up and I might want to marry you.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. “Excellent.”
****
Author’s Note
I ran the meal program at an inner city agency in Edmonton, Canada for three years. I count it as the best “office” job I’ve ever had and will ever have. If it wasn’t for the fact that I could not write and work the 60+ weekly hours I regularly pulled in, I’d still be there now, still arguing with volunteers, still trying to find a way to balance budgets and donations, still screaming at the top of my lungs in frustration when there was no one in the building, and still crying at funerals.
I loved
every single moment
of it and I’d not exchange those memories for all of the gold on earth.
But when I left, I had no idea of the wounds I carried. The faces, the scars, the pain. I struggled every day, wondering if I made a difference. Some days, I was convinced. Some days, I wasn’t. Most days, I was too busy to ask the question. I saw people sink, and rise, and maintain their status quo. I saw love, hate, racism, bigotry, ignorance, tolerance, and acceptance — and most days, I saw them all.
I rarely talk about how working with homeless people made me feel because I tend to tear up. I spoke to thousands of volunteers as a part of my position, and I developed a lot of automatic responses. They’ve stayed with me, so those basic, almost glib answers are fairly ingrained. They protect me.
But I needed to share how I felt in one of the most unique jobs a person could have.
When I wrote
What Kings Ate and Wizards Drank: A Fantasy Lover’s Food Guide,
I had to cover food, power, and poverty. It was terrifying to write those couple of pages about me and homelessness and poverty and food politics for that book, because it was the first time since I’d left that I’d spoken candidly.
I did it, and I survived.
I realized that I needed to write an inner-city story and somehow explore the things I did right, and many things I did wrong, and have one of my characters ask the questions I asked myself every day for three years. And I needed to explore the answers in a purely fictional setting.
Thus, First (Wrong) Impressions was born.
I want to thank you for taking the time to read this book, and for reading this note. This book gave me the chance to let Lizzy say and do things I wished I’d said and done. It gave me a chance to talk and explore and to heal. So thank you.
To my former co-workers: Jo, Cindy, Jamie (my bitch-and-cry sister), Caitlin (who once was the victim of my curse-laced screaming when I thought I was alone in the basement), Trisha, Devin, Billy, Sean, Dave, Mischa (who hired me), Leanne, the other Leanne, Adrienne, Roger, Evan, Tim, Eugene, Jenny…the admin crew, the volunteer crew, too many part-time floor staff to remember, too many meal groups to remember…all of you made it easier for me to work those 80+ hour weeks in the summer, in the heat, in the kitchen, by myself, cooking for 400 people when I had no volunteers.
And to the clients who came every night. You were my family. You stood at the bus stop with me, you jumped drunk people who swung at me, you gave me Christmas cards. You made me laugh at your jokes and cry at your funerals. Some of your names I never knew and some of you never knew mine. I loved you, even when I hated you. I admired you, even when I couldn’t stand you. It killed me to leave you, even when I had to go.
You changed my life. You changed who I am as a person. Thank you for being you.
And, just for the record, yes, one night for supper, I actually did serve lobster and steak to over three hundred homeless people.
They’re still talking about it.
True story.
If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to write a short review. Check out my website at
http://kristadball.com
for a complete list of my books.
First (Wrong) Impressions Copyright 2013 This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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