My Pride, His Prejudice (6 page)

CHAPTER TEN:

They’d been sitting at the table for twelve minutes, and Charles still hadn’t mentioned Jane once. Instead, he was still staring at his menu. She thought not reading the rest of Will’s email was going to kill her—nah, this curiosity was much worse. What would Jane’s sort-of-ex want to talk about, anyway? He’d made it clear he had no time for her a couple of months ago, so was he having a change of heart?

Chicken Alfredo with Caesar salad. There. Done. Easy. It’s not like it’s hard to choose Italian food, was it? The waiter brought over some breadsticks, and Eliza chewed on one.

“Do you need a minute more to decide?” the girl asked him.

Charles looked up. “Uh, yeah, just a couple. Sorry.”

“No worries. I’ll be back when you’re ready.”

Eliza smiled at the waitress and then took another bite of bread. She tried desperately not to drum her nails on the table. Showing impatience wasn’t exactly the way to get someone to spill their secrets. But honestly, what else was she supposed to do?

She studied the top of his hipster-parted hair and wondered for the eightieth time what he wanted to talk about.

It had been the end of February when her sister knocked on her door and planted herself on the couch. The tears didn’t take long to come. Eliza knew they’d only been dating for a few months, but Jane honestly thought they’d stick it out. Part of her figured Charles was
the one
.

Eliza had held her sister and rationalized everything as best she could, but it wasn’t enough. Jane had fallen for him, and he clearly didn’t reciprocate. Eliza didn’t blame Jane for being confused. It wasn’t like Charles hid anything. My goodness, he gushed about this gorgeous girl he was dating to anyone who’d listen. And then, bam—it was over. Just like that. He was going to be too busy in New York, so they had to end things. Not even willing to try it out, or do the long-distance thing, or anything. Just, sorry.

It was awful. And odd.

And Jane was too kind to ask him about it, to call him out and put him on the spot and make him explain what had really happened. Instead, she wiped her tears, shrugged her shoulders, and said that if he ever felt the need to explain it to her, he would. Until then, she was a big girl, and over was over. It hurt, but it was what it was.

Eliza had to go back to work and sporadically interact with him, and Jane rarely brought him up. And life went on.

Until today.

As soon as they’d both placed their orders and the waitress left, Eliza pounced. She honestly couldn’t wait another moment. “So, what would you like to know about Jane?”
Come on—spit it out.

He looked at her in surprise, and then a shy dimple peeked out on his left cheek. “I don’t know. I mean, I do. I have a few things I’d like to know, but I don’t really know how to ask.”

“Well, how about you start at the beginning?”

He picked up a breadstick and twirled it around. “Can I ask if Will mentioned anything to you?”

Will? “About what?”

“Er, nothing. I was just wondering if you two had ever talked about me and your sister.”

She scrunched her brow and thought back. “Not that I can remember. Why? Did he ever say anything to you? Did he find it weird or something?”

“Uh…” He looked up and evaded the question. “How is Jane, anyway? She keeping busy at the school?”

“Yep.” Okay, what in the world was he hiding?  “Kids and teachers and parents love her.”

He grinned, that dimple peeping out again. “Good. I loved watching her around the kids. She’s really amazing, isn’t she?”

Heck with it. If he thought she was amazing, then—“Why did you break up with her?”

His eyebrows rose. “Did we break up? Is that how she saw it?”

Eliza glanced away, not sure how to respond. “Uh, yeah. What else would you call it when the guy says he doesn’t have time for you anymore?”

He winced. “Okay, that hurt. Did it really come off that callous?”

She pulled out her phone and set it on the table. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Charles ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up for the first time that day. “See, that’s what I don’t get. It shouldn’t matter, right? Like, me saying we needed to take a break—that shouldn’t have hurt her.”

Was he insane? “Why would you say that?”

He blinked. “Well, because she didn’t really like me.”’

Eliza was so confused. “Are we still talking about Jane Bennet? My sister?”

“Yes . . .” Now he looked out of it.

She chuckled. “Okay, so we seemed to have some wires crossed here. Let’s start at the easiest place to unravel. Why would you think my sister didn’t like you?”

“Well, it was obvious.”

Eliza’s jaw dropped. “To who? Far as I could tell, she was totally into you. And actually, since she’s my sister and confides in me constantly, I’m going to go with . . . you’re wrong.”

“But I was told that she didn’t…” His voice trailed off, and she zeroed in.

“Who would say something like—” She gasped. Her gaze collided with his. “It was Will, wasn’t it?”

He leaned back in his chair and tossed his uneaten breadstick back in the basket. “See, I knew you’d been talking about us. All that time, I was completely falling for her, and Will was right. She was only after me because I was at Revolutionary Innovations. The little gold digger didn’t even like me.”

Eliza would’ve spit water all over the guy if she’d been drinking “Wait a minute. Let me get this straight—no, hang on. First, let’s get
this
straight. No matter what you heard from your friend,
William Darcy
, I know for a fact, he’s wrong.” She raised her hands up in a “don’t shoot” gesture. “I know, I know, as hard as it is to believe the man could be wrong at all, he is. Was. So is. Constantly.” How she wished he was here so she could give him a piece of her mind.

“Second . . .” She held up two fingers. “My sister has never been and never will be a gold digger. Do you understand?
Never
. That woman has more intelligence in her body than you do in your pinky toe. The little gross one. Actually, the fungus-covered pinky toe.” Ugh. “Wait. Maybe I got that backwards. Maybe she has more intelligence in her toe than you do in your—gah! You know what I mean.” The rage that was building inside her made it too difficult to speak. “She’s never needed your money, or anyone else’s. If she wanted it, she’d make her own!”

“So I was wrong?” He looked a little pale. Served him right.

“And third, yes,” she whispered. “She liked you. A lot. A whole lot more than you liked her, obviously. And you know what else?”

He shook his head as a flash of pain slashed through his eyes.

“Despite whatever your stupid
friend
thinks, it isn’t that she doesn’t deserve you—No!
You
don’t deserve
her
.” She stood up to go. If she didn’t leave right then, she’d burst into furious, horrid tears.

As she headed out of the restaurant, she punched numbers into her cell.

“Mom, unpack your suitcase. We’re not going to Vegas.”

“What? Why?”

“Because I don’t look good in orange!”

“What does that mean?”

“That means the next time I see
Mr. Darcy
, he’s dead.”

CHAPTER ELEVEN:

Eliza’s mom had been relentless on the phone the whole drive home, demanding to know what was going on, but she just didn’t feel like telling her. Not yet. “We’ll talk about this later. I need to process first.”

“But I’m afraid you might be overreacting. I mean, putting off our plans for my birthday seems a little rash—don’t you think?”

“Possibly. But I’d rather not contemplate it right now. I’m just not in the mood to discuss. So please, let’s drop it.” Besides, if anyone deserved to know what was going on first, it was Jane. And she just couldn’t bring herself to tell her yet.

“I don’t know what happened, or what Will Darcy did, but if you just talked to him, I’m sure things would work out.”

“I love you, Mom. I can’t do this right now. Please trust me. Good-bye. We’ll talk later.”

“Fine. Goodnight, dear.” Her mom clicked off the phone.

For some reason, Eliza felt even worse than before. She chucked her purse onto the coffee table as she walked through the door and plopped down on the couch. It wasn’t fair for her mom to be thrown in the middle of all this. However, there was no way Eliza could be that close to Will and not go off on him.

She needed to approach him when she was rational. Once she had time to think.

Slipping off her shoes, she curled her feet under her and grabbed the nearest accent pillow. Poor Jane. Who would ever believe that about her? Who could? And what right did Will have, poking his nose into their relationship anyway?

The words she’d like to call him right now would make a sailor blush. She punched the pillow and lay down on it. This was awful. Everything had begun to look up, and now, now she couldn’t even think about him without getting mad.

It’s a good thing she turned him down! She couldn’t believe he’d had the audacity to ask her to marry him—her, the sister of a gold digger. Ha. What a hard dilemma he must have faced, since of course he knew what other members of her family were like.

It was so humiliating that he’d think that of Jane, let alone sharing his idiotic thoughts with the guy Jane liked. Why didn’t he come to Eliza first? She would’ve set him straight in a heartbeat. But to break them up? Seriously? Because he didn’t think they were right together? And he didn’t believe Jane liked Charles. This was such a ridiculous junior high school mentality, she could scream. Why were grown adults allowed to act this way?

She’d fallen asleep. She must have, because the next thing she remembered was hearing the phone ring. In a daze, she frantically turned the living room upside down, only to realize it was in her purse.

It was Will, of course.

She sighed and set the phone on the floor while she curled back on the couch. Was it really only nine? It felt like eleven.

A few seconds later, the phone rang again.

The screen lit with Will Darcy’s name. By the third time, she turned her phone off completely.

Nope. Not tonight. She made her way into bed and crashed. Some things were just better dealt with in the morning.

When Eliza woke the next day, there were two voicemails from Will. She wondered if Charles had called him last night and so he was attempting to make some sort of amends. Good. He should be groveling right now. She pattered into the kitchen and pulled out a leftover salad. Nothing tasted better to her than vegetables first thing in the morning. As weird as it might seem, salad was her favorite meal for breakfast. Eliza had noticed years ago that it’d keep her more energized throughout the day if she actually ate what other people usually ate for lunch and dinner. She typically kept cereal and yogurt on hand for dessert.

Once she was all set up, she called her voicemail, just in case she was mistaken and this was something urgent.

It was.

“Hey, Eliza, I don’t know if anything’s wrong on your end, but I hope you’re okay. I’ve called quite a few times, so now I’m just going to pop this into voicemail. We found my sister. I still haven’t located Joe yet, but Georgia’s pretty shaken up. She’s with me in my suite, and she’d really like to have some of her own clothes to wear and a few other items. Apparently, he sold her suitcase too, and she really doesn’t feel like shopping for new stuff. I’d fly up and get them, but I’m afraid to leave her, honestly. Not that I think she’d run away or something—I’m just…” The phone beeped. Voicemail must’ve ended.

Oh, my gosh! He’d found her! For a minute, Eliza forgot all her troubles as the reality of his words sank in and a huge wave of relief washed over her.

The next voicemail came on:

“Sorry, I guess that message was too long. So, like I was saying, I think Georgia is going through some PTSD, or something. So, I have a huge favor to ask—would you mind calling me back as soon as possible so this voicemail doesn’t go off again while I’m asking you? Thanks. You’re the best. Bye.”

Having worked with the man for over a year, she knew what he was going to ask before she called him. He needed her to fly out there with stuff for Georgia. And as much as she was trying to be mad at him right now, there was a very upset girl who needed help, and that tugged upon her heartstrings much more firmly than the irritation she felt for Will.

Glancing at the time and seeing that it was seven a.m., she called him back.

“Hello?” he answered groggily.

“Hey. Late night?” she asked.

He muttered something and then said, “Yeah. I’m glad you called. I was beginning to worry.”

She could hear him yawn as she put her tea kettle on the stove. “Afraid I’d gotten mugged?”

“Something like that.” He cleared his throat. “So, I’ve got a favor to ask you.”

“Yep. I know,” she said as she placed an herbal tea bag into her favorite mug. “You’d like me to bring Georgia’s stuff.”

“Oh, would you?” He sounded relieved.

“I’m thinking about it.”

“I’d need you to stop by the house and collect it for her. I could email you the list. It’s not much.”

“Why don’t you bring her home?”

“I tried.” He sighed. “Apparently, she wants to stay here with me and watch Joe go down. Not that I blame her. So, are you okay with helping?”

She took a deep breath. There was so much she’d like to say to him right now. So, so much. “Yeah.”

“I can have the plane there by one. Will that be enough time for you, or is there stuff at the office you need to do?”

“There’s stuff I need to do.” She had at least four meetings today, and the inspections over every department. She’d moved everything to Thursday when her mom wanted to go to Vegas.

“Oh, so more like this evening?”