Improvise Page 14

  “Jumping out of airplanes,” Elizabeth muttered, and bumped him gently with her hip.

  “What I would like to know,” he said seriously, “is more about you, your family, why you chose to leave the Marines . . . whatever you want to tell me.”

  She thought about that. “Let’s get out. I want to get some water and change.”

  “Georgiana should have something you can wear.”

  “I have a set of clean clothes in my bag.”

  “Okay.” He stepped to the terrace and held his hands out for Elizabeth, who seemed to have an easier time swinging her legs over the side.

  “Feeling better?” he asked.

  “Much.” She gave him a wicked grin. “Must be the ibuprofen.”

  They dried off and went back downstairs. Once in the guest room, her curiosity got the better of her and she turned on her phone. She already had a voicemail. She smiled mischievously and tapped play.

  Richard’s droll voice came on the line. “Well done, Bennet. I’ll send you the dry cleaning bill.” Elizabeth grinned and pumped her fist in victory, but the message continued. “Listen, not to get all brotherly on you, but you should know that Will is probably the most uptight, overprotective, grumpy ass I’ve ever met. For the CEO of a company, he’s remarkably anti-social, and he doesn’t understand the phrase stand down. But for the few people he truly cares about, he’s also the most trustworthy, loyal man I’ve ever met. If you’re joining that very exclusive club, my friend, count yourself lucky.”

  Elizabeth turned off the phone’s display. Despite having achieved her goal, the message left her unsatisfied. Richard hadn’t seemed very surprised. She started to change her clothes and then it hit her. I’ve been had. He wanted me to meet Will; he just thought I’d have to go to work at FORGE to do it. Try as she might, though, she couldn’t muster any anger. Not after Will’s kiss. Kisses, she thought with a smile, touching her lips.

  She typed a one-word reply to Richard: Loki!

  When Elizabeth and Will met back upstairs, she dragged him back out on the terrace. Will asked if she wanted some wine, but Elizabeth shook her head. He then moved two of the long lounge chairs over near the railing where Elizabeth had been standing before, then straightened the cushions and tossed a few blankets on a small table between them. Elizabeth set her bottle of water down, and for a while, they just stood at the railing and gazed out at the lake across the street in Central Park.

  Elizabeth relaxed into the companionable silence. Though she hadn’t taken the time to examine the terrace itself in her rush to see the lake view, the light from the house illuminated it enough to see that it was lush with greenery. There were several trees in large stone planters casting nighttime shadows, and flowers lined the walls in pots and boxes. Ivy grew up several trellises, and there was a small vegetable garden in several raised planters. Garden behind us, lake across the street—it’s a bit of country in the city. She was contented in a way she couldn’t ever recall feeling.

  “So,” she said, speaking into the darkness, “Richard told me you have a sister at Stanford.”

  She could just make out his smile. “Georgiana,” he said. “She’s much younger than me, obviously,” he added. “A little more than ten years. Kind of a surprise baby, but my parents were thrilled.” He grunted. “I was not thrilled.”

  Elizabeth chuckled. “I don’t remember, but Jane assures me I was not happy to be replaced as the youngest. I was five when my sister Mary was born.”

  “Exactly,” Will agreed. “I was an only child for ten years.”

  “Spoiled,” Elizabeth jibed.

  “Probably,” he replied easily. “If they were going to spring a new kid on me, I thought they should at least do the right thing and give me a brother.” He arched his back and crossed his hands behind his head as he stretched. “I wasn’t interested in her at all until she started walking and talking.”

  “And then?” Elizabeth prompted. She walked over to a chaise and perched on the end of one.

  “When she was three,” he said slowly, moving to join her, “she had this yellow stuffed duck she dragged around with her. She was never without it. It was filthy and tattered, and I think Mom was afraid it would dissolve completely if she put it in the washer. And one day Georgiana couldn’t find it. My mother and father were going crazy looking for it because she wouldn’t stop crying.”

  “So you found it for her?” Elizabeth guessed.

  “No,” he answered. “I hated the racket she was making and resented the attention she was getting. But then I looked—really looked—at that little grubby, tear-streaked face, and I was just a goner.”

  He shook his head ruefully and Elizabeth laughed.

  “Yeah,” he admitted, “it didn’t really do my reputation with the boys any good.” He leaned back in the chair and put his feet up. “I convinced her that her duck had become real, like that rabbit in the story she liked. I told her real ducks didn’t like to be dragged around, but that we could go across the street to the park and visit her duck anytime she wanted. Her eyes got really big and she demanded we go see her duck right away.”

  “Quick thinker,” Elizabeth said. “I approve. What did you do?”

  “What else?” he said, tossing up his hands. “I took her to see her duck. We went every day for a month before she gave me a break.”

  “Did her duck have a name?” she asked, smiling.

  “Yes,” he responded drolly. “Duck.”

  Elizabeth found this very funny. She would never have guessed that Will Darcy, surly CEO, was such a soft touch. “You’re a good big brother,” she declared, charmed by the story. “She’s lucky.”

  He laughed softly. “Not so good. She hates when I tell that story.” He shrugged. “But she’s not here to stop me.” He sighed so gently Elizabeth almost missed it. “She’s all grown up now and doesn’t need me.”

  “Wrong,” Elizabeth corrected him, taking a drink of her water. “She just doesn’t want you to know she needs you. She wants to prove herself to you. And to herself.”

  “You don’t even know my sister,” Will replied, amused.

  It was Elizabeth’s turn to shrug. “She’s eighteen, right? Never been away from home?”

  “Right,” Will confirmed.

  “Trust me,” she said firmly. “I’ve actually been an eighteen-year-old girl. I know these things.”

  He nodded, and Elizabeth could see that he hoped she was right.

  “Your turn,” he said. “What about your sisters? Have I met them all now or are there more?”

  Elizabeth set down her water. “No, you’ve met them all, thank goodness. The order is Jane, me, Mary, Kit, and Lydia.” She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. “Mary was twelve when I left, so she remembers more, but I’m not sure how well Kit and Lydia even remember me. I’ve not been home a whole lot over the past six years. Lydia was barely nine when I left.”

  Will waited, eager for Elizabeth to tell him more about her family. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to know, really, other than learning about her family would help him learn about her.

  “When we were all still at Longbourn,” she said finally, “I used to call Kit and Lydia our Irish twins. Their hair was the same color then, and Lydia was the same height as Kit even though she was two years younger.” He turned to watch her face and saw that her eyes were closed.

  “I still remember when they only wore footed pajamas and needed their hands to climb up and down the stairs. Kit loved Paddington Bear, so I had to read the book to her every night. Lydia couldn’t ever share anything, so she demanded Pooh Bear stories—always more than one—before she’d go to sleep. They constantly argued about which was the better bear. Mary called it the Great Bear War.” She opened her eyes and grinned at Will. “There were quite a few skirmishes involved. Lots of threats and hair pulling.”

  Will nodded solemnly. “Fortunately, I just had the one sister, and she couldn’t reach my hair.”

  “Well, you are excessi
vely tall,” Elizabeth agreed, deadpan. She paused before picking up the story again. “Jane was the one who figured out how to end it, of course. She’s the peacemaker.”

  “What’d she do?” Will asked.

  “She bought Lydia a Tigger costume. Bye-bye bears, hello tiger. Kit thought she’d won; Lydia was certain she had.”

  He laughed.

  “Lydia wore that costume everywhere—even when she grew and the hems were at her shins. She’d bounce around singing ‘I’m the only one,’” and she’d cry when it had to go in the wash. Jane had to start doing the laundry when Lydia was asleep.”

  Will watched the soft smile playing on Elizabeth’s lips and felt a rush of affection for her. He noticed that she’d not mentioned her parents, who would normally be doing these things, but he didn’t want to push her into confidences if she wasn’t ready to share them.

  “You know,” she said quietly, “I grumbled about it, but I loved taking Lydia places in that stupid costume. She got lots of attention in it, which was all she wanted, really. She loved it so much Kit wanted one, so I bought her red boots and a yellow slicker with a hat for her birthday. Kit wore them every day in the hopes it would rain.”

  “Did she wait long?” Will inquired, thinking it was something Georgiana would have done at that age.

  “Well,” Elizabeth said with a drawl, “her birthday’s in July, so . . .”

  They both laughed.

  “I’ve missed a lot,” Elizabeth said, her voice wistful. “They probably don’t remember this stuff. They’re practically grown now.”

  “They seem pretty happy,” Will offered. “They probably remember more than you think.”

  She nodded. Under her breath, she mumbled, “Hope not.” Will knew he wasn’t supposed to hear it, so he didn’t ask her to repeat or explain it. He just filed it away for later. For Elizabeth Bennet, he was willing to wait.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Elizabeth’s phone rang in her ear. “Bennet,” she said in a sleepy voice.

  “Liiizzzy,” Jane whined, “where’s my car?”

  “It’s not there?” Elizabeth asked, befuddled. She sat up but didn’t open her eyes.

  This set Jane off into a panic. “Did you drop it off last night?” she asked hurriedly. “Should I call the cops?”

  “No, no,” Elizabeth said, more awake now. “Charlotte was supposed to drop it off for me.”

  “Well, I’m awake now,” Jane replied. “Thanks for the shock to my system.” She paused. “Why would Charlotte drop it off? Lizzy, what’s going on?”

  Elizabeth knew Jane must be exhausted to be so impatient. Charlotte would need to be dealt with. “Jane, let me call Char. If it’s not there in ten minutes, call a cab. I’ll pay for it. I’m really sorry.”

  “That’s like a thirty-dollar fare, Lizzy, are you sure?”

  That sounded more like the Jane she knew. Charlotte had better have a good reason for not taking Jane’s car back last night. “Yes. I’ll make Charlotte pay me back.”

  Jane harrumphed. “Are you home?”

  “Yes,” Elizabeth replied. She felt terrible about stranding her sister. “You’ve got to be dead on your feet, Janie. I’ll call Charlotte and call you right back.”

  Jane agreed, but added, “When I’m not feeling like a zombie, you are going to tell me what happened. I’m not kidding, Elizabeth.”

  Elizabeth grunted, irritated. Charlotte’s a dead woman. “Fine.”

  She heard Jane say someone’s name and then a few words. It sounded like someone was asking if she still lived in Montclair with her twenty-seven cousins.

  “I am,” she heard Jane say. “Old woman who lived in a shoe, that’s me.”

  Then Jane returned to the line. “Elizabeth,” she said flatly, “I’ll call you back.”

  Elizabeth rubbed her eyes. She’d only had about two hours of sleep before Jane’s call. Quickly she found Charlotte’s number and tapped the screen of her phone. She counted the rings—four, five—before Charlotte answered.

  “Good morning, Lizzy,” came Charlotte’s sunny greeting. “Where are you this fine day?”

  “I’m home, Charlotte. And the question,” Elizabeth said in a clipped voice, “is where are you? Where is Jane’s car?”

  Charlotte giggled. “First, that’s a little disappointing. Second, that’s two questions.”

  Elizabeth was not amused. “And your answers would be?”

  “Oh,” chirruped the musical voice on the other end of the call, “Dad was delayed this morning. I’m just driving into the staff lot now.”

  Elizabeth groaned and put a hand over her eyes to block out the light. “You promised, Char. Jane just left work and couldn’t find it. Now she’s grumpy and she’ll never let me borrow it again. And she wants to know why I didn’t return it. You promised.”

  “Oops,” Charlotte replied without a hint of remorse. Elizabeth frowned. Her hand tightened involuntarily around her phone.

  “What do you mean, ‘oops’?” Elizabeth asked, irritated. I’m definitely buying a motorcycle. Maybe even a car. Argh, insurance, gas, repairs . . . “This was all your fault to begin with, begging me to play co-ed.” Her eyes felt gritty, and she rubbed absently at them. Staying up all night trading life stories with a handsome man was fine if you didn’t have to function the following day.

  “Sorry, Lizzy,” Charlotte nearly sang. “I did uphold my end. I didn’t tell Jane a thing, and I’ll never ask you to play co-ed again. How was the hot tub?”

  Elizabeth bent over, holding her head in one hand. “I don’t get it, Char. You were all protective last night, and now . . . “

  “That’s when I thought you were hurt. But you weren’t,” Charlotte informed her.

  “You are a prime-grade rat, Charlotte Lucas,” Elizabeth replied menacingly, “and you had better watch your back.”

  Charlotte laughed, entirely at ease. “I’m not afraid of you. Jane won’t let you do anything to me, and even if she did, Maddy wouldn’t.”

  “Call Jane and tell her where you are,” Elizabeth said coolly and terminated the call. “All right, Lucas,” she said quietly, “gauntlet thrown.” She tossed her phone on the side table and dropped back onto her bed, rolling over and falling asleep almost instantly.

  Will Darcy felt like he was on his last legs. He’d come into work late, a first for him in the five years since he had started his company, but it hadn’t been late enough. He’d managed to grab only a few hours of sleep after driving Elizabeth back to New Jersey, making an appearance around ten. Fortunately, FORGE was in a rare lull, with the final work on several large projects just completed and the new cycles not yet begun. After the holidays, they’d have more work than they could handle, but fortunately Charles would be back from South America by then and could shoulder some of the load.

  Charles, Will thought as he organized his computer’s desktop and stopped at some of his friend’s presentation files. What to do with Charles?

  Will had met Charles Bingley when he was looking to hire someone to do business analytics. A former Harvard professor had recommended three graduating students he might wish to interview, and it had been clear from the moment Bingley began speaking that he was the right candidate. By the end of the first year of his employment, it was just as clear that the man belonged on the executive team.

  Charles was a wizard with both data analysis and projections, but more than that, he could rally the troops almost effortlessly. His affable nature, coupled with his business acumen, had been a valuable addition to FORGE, and he and Will had eventually become friends. Their backgrounds were somewhat similar, which helped. Charles’s family had the same sort of expectations of their son that the Darcys had had for theirs.

  Will opened a bottle of water and took several long gulps while loosening his tie. Even with the risk of losing Charles to another company, there was something holding him back from inviting Charles to invest in the company. Charles was more actively involved in the business than Will�
��s own family had been to date, but in his personal life, his friend still behaved, well, like a stereotypical frat boy.

  Will had been mulling this over since Charles’s latest break-up had resulted in a suddenly “urgent” need to get out of the city. The man’s love life was negatively affecting his ability to do his work, work that then was added to Will’s plate. He’d agreed to Charles’s trip, but not with terribly good grace. Maybe Charles doesn’t want a place here long term anyway, he told himself, then grunted softly. He was too tired to be in the office today. He should forget about this and just go home.

  “Mr. Darcy?” Wanda was at the door, holding a cup of coffee. She was grinning at him as though she knew a secret, though he couldn’t imagine what it might be.

  “Bless you, Wanda,” he said with a sigh. I’m sure she’ll tell me eventually. It’s probably something embarrassing.

  “Did your team go out for beers after the game?” she asked, trying to appear as though the question was innocent.

  Ah, that’s it. She thinks I’m hungover. “No, one of the players was injured, and I took her to the doctor. It was late when we got back.”

  For a moment, Wanda’s face fell, but then her eyebrows lifted. “Her?”

  “Oh, for pity’s sake, Wanda, I’m tired,” he groaned. “It’s a co-ed team, so yes, it was a woman. How much more coffee is there?”

  “An entire pot. I was hoping maybe you’d actually gone out on a weeknight.” Her dangling earrings today were in the shape of a treble clef, reminding Will of his sister.

  He grinned at Wanda, and for the first time, noticed that her short gray hair had been coaxed into small spikes. That’s new. It sounded horrible when G wanted to try it, but it looks good on Wanda. “Thank you. I need the caffeine.” He motioned at her head. “I like the hair.”

  She shook her head and gave him a little cluck. “When you think before you speak, you can be a very charming man, Mr. Darcy—a very good man. Just don’t be too good, or your young lady will die of boredom.”