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  He laughed. “Fair enough. I don’t mind you in shorts either.”

  As they approached the car, Jerry got out to open the back door.

  “No Audi tonight?” she whispered to Will.

  “I thought we might have some wine,” he replied, placing one hand on her lower back. When they reached the car, she stopped short, and he stepped to the side to avoid running into her.

  “Elizabeth, this is Jerry Kardasian. He’ll be our driver tonight,” Will said.

  “Hello, Jerry,” Elizabeth said with a smile and held out her hand.

  Jerry glanced at her hand, then at Will, before saying, “Yes, miss.”

  “Oh, I’m just Elizabeth,” she said with a laugh, lowering her hand.

  Jerry nodded. “Yes, miss.”

  She glanced up at Will. “I see I’m going to have some trouble with Jerry,” she joked.

  “Not at all,” Will replied, with a wink at his driver. “He’s a consummate professional.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “That’s the problem.”

  Will helped her into the back of the car and shook his head as she automatically pulled the shoulder belt across her dress. No woman he took out did that. They would rather die in a crash than wrinkle their gown.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “Nothing,” he said affectionately. “I’m just really glad you’re here.”

  This earned him a stunning smile as she reached out to squeeze his hand. “I’m glad I’m here, too.” She blushed and shook her head. “I mean, here with you.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Will had never been to this restaurant, but the modern décor and the menu were promising. He looked through the entrees and quickly decided he wanted a steak. When he glanced up at Elizabeth, she was perusing her own menu a little too carefully, her eyebrows pinched together as she read. When he asked, she told him she would order the chicken, but something about the way she said it made him ask, “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

  She smiled a little and nodded but didn’t say anything.

  Will frowned and picked up the menu again. When he reviewed the entrees, he realized she’d ordered the least expensive meal.

  “Elizabeth,” he said quietly, “why are you ordering the chicken?”

  She lowered her head a little, pretending to reread the menu. “I know you do this all the time, Will, and I’m impressed by Jerry and all, but the prices are really high here.”

  He tried not to laugh, only partially succeeding. If she knew what he paid at a typical business dinner, her eyes would pop out of her head. He’d chosen this place in part because he knew she’d want to reciprocate at some point and the prices had seemed moderate. “The restaurant was my choice, Elizabeth. I knew what the prices were when I made the reservation.” She glanced up at him, and Will thought she looked worried. Does she think I’m upset with her? He met her gaze and asked, “What do you really want to order?”

  She met his gaze shyly. He hadn’t realized she had it in her to be shy about anything, but he found it charming. “Scallops,” she said softly.

  “Then scallops it is,” he replied, eyes alight with humor. She’s watching my pennies. “Do me a favor, and don’t make me work so hard just to order the food next time, okay?”

  Elizabeth brought her chin up, then said, “You’re very sure of yourself. How do you know there will be a next time?”

  “Touché,” he replied with a smile. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.”

  The waiter arrived to take their order, and Will ordered salads and wine as well as the entrees, giving her a wink before requesting the additional items. She shook her head at him.

  When the order was in, they settled back and contemplated one another for a minute before Elizabeth said, “I’m going to ask you a question.”

  Will narrowed his eyes, mildly alarmed. “Okay . . .”

  She rolled her eyes. “Relax. Like first-date questions. I ask one, and then you get to ask one.”

  He chuckled. “Fair enough. What’s your first question?”

  She hummed a little as she reached for a piece of bread. “How did you first decide what your company would do? It’s very different from what your father did.”

  Will took a sip of his wine and watched her butter the bread in two precise passes with her knife. “I wasn’t very old at all before I knew I didn’t want to break failing companies up and sell off the parts. But I didn’t know exactly what I did want to do until I started my MBA program. My mother and I had a long conversation about it, and she asked what I planned to do to make the world a better place.”

  This caught Elizabeth’s attention. “Your mother’s idea?”

  Will laughed a little and shook his head, “No, just her nagging.” His voice softened. “She was the captain of our ship. Even my dad admitted it. She was just unassuming about it.” He took a bite of his food. When he swallowed, he continued. “She told me that we’d been very blessed, that we ought to try to pass that on. She worked hard for the Darcy Foundation, the family charity. She told me that while my father would be proud to hand his company to me when he retired, she didn’t think it would make me happy.” He picked up his glass. “She was right, of course.”

  The salads arrived, and Will noticed that Elizabeth’s didn’t have any dressing.

  “Do you not like it?” he asked, motioning to the saucière.

  “No,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I always get it on the side so I can go light. I actually like the taste of the lettuce.”

  “For a second there, I thought you were on some sort of diet.” He grinned as her eyes widened in mock horror.

  “Not a chance,” she replied, tucking an errant lock of hair behind her ear and meeting his gaze. “I love to eat.” She grinned. “If I overdo it, I just run another mile.” She swallowed a bite and asked, “So how did you decide what you wanted to do for this company that wasn’t your dad’s and was meant to make you happy?”

  Will speared some of the lettuce on his fork and ate, chewing while he gathered his thoughts. He swallowed and said, “That’s more than one question.”

  Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Same topic. You can ask follow-ups too.”

  He nodded, then cleared his throat and said, “My dad thought it was just an exercise, making a list of all the things I wanted to do and then trying to form a company around that, so he and I talked a lot about it.” His eyes looked faraway as he remembered. “In the end, I realized that good products sometimes take thirty or forty years to get noticed and become mainstream. What would happen if I could help speed up the process?”

  “Digital revolution?” Elizabeth asked archly.

  “Not just digital, but yes, that’s the idea,” Will said warmly. He took another bite of the salad. “My turn,” he said suddenly. She glanced up and shrugged, and for a moment he was mesmerized by what that did to both the dress and what was in it. Then he blinked and asked, “Why the Marines?”

  She froze for a second, and Will silently kicked himself. He’d thought this would be an easy one.

  “No one else would have me,” she joked. Will was silent, just watching her. On the terrace she’d seemed detached from the story she told, but now she just looked embarrassed. Sad? Good work, Will, he berated himself.

  Elizabeth cleared her throat. “I told you my mom died.” He nodded. “There wasn’t any money for college, and no time left to make any, so I enlisted.” He waited and she sighed. “The truth is I sort of lost myself for a while when we all moved to Montclair. I’d overseen the girls and my mother and the house and the bills—you know, everything—for so long. But after my mother died and Aunt Maddy came, nobody needed me anymore.” She lifted her water glass and took a sip. “So I did what any self-respecting seventeen-year-old would do. I packed an entire adolescence into a few weeks right after graduation.” She sighed. “Uncle Ed thought that wasn’t such a great idea and became my personal drill sergeant. He figured if I was too tired to sneak out,
he’d done his job.”

  Will frowned. “Where was your dad?”

  “Oh,” she said. “I guess I missed that part. He left us about a year before my mother died.”

  Will felt his stomach twist. “I’m so sorry.”

  She shifted in her seat, and the light caught a line of uneven skin on her left shoulder. His eyes lingered there until she spoke.

  “It happened a long time ago,” she told him easily. “We’re all better off without him, honestly. Uncle Ed is a better father than he ever was.”

  “So, you chose the Marines because Ed was one?”

  She nodded. “That, and my father was anti-military. Bonus.”

  The expression on her face was enigmatic. Will thought it might be both pride and defiance, but before he could decide, the meals arrived.

  He took a good deal of satisfaction in watching Elizabeth take a bite of her scallops and scoop up the butternut squash puree that accompanied it. Her eyes closed involuntarily, and a tiny smile appeared on her lips. He heard her shoes tapping the hard floor and assumed it was a good sign. Only after she opened her eyes and he lifted his eyebrows in a mute question did she nod and say, “Okay, you were right.”

  He held one hand up to an ear. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I heard that correctly. Can you repeat that, please?”

  She laughed, shaking her head at him. “Here, you have to try this.” Her hand stilled. “You don’t have any allergies or anything, right?”

  He shook his head as she offered him a bite without releasing the fork.

  “Mmm,” he said as he chewed, “that was amazing.” He gestured to his own plate. “Would you like to try some of the steak?”

  “Dude,” she said affectedly, making him grin, “it’s steak.”

  He cut her a piece and offered his fork to her. As she slid her mouth over the tines, Will thought of their kiss and how much he’d love to catch her lips with his own. She swallowed and began to sit back, but he cupped her cheek and leaned forward until they were only inches apart. She looked up and met his gaze, all humor melting into desire. Their lips touched.

  A flash of light brought the kiss to an abrupt end.

  “What the hell?” sputtered Will, jumping up but catching only the blue jacket of a figure retreating through the entrance. He cursed under his breath. “I’m not even safe in New Jersey.”

  “Who was that?” Elizabeth asked, scowling. “I have something I’d like to show him.”

  Will glanced at her, surprised, but also curious. “What?”

  She held up one of her shoes, her eyes shooting fire. “How far the heel of this shoe could be shoved up his . . .” Her voice trailed off as the manager appeared at their table, apologizing for the disruption and offering them a free dessert. Her shoe disappeared back under the table.

  Will was mortified and angry that their date had been ambushed. He knew Elizabeth wouldn’t be happy to have her picture in the paper, unlike most of the other women he’d dated, and he hadn’t talked to her about it yet. He hadn’t thought it necessary. This was only their first date, after all, and it wasn’t as though he was a movie star.

  He wasn’t angry with the manager. He knew all too well how difficult it was to keep the photographers away, and outside the city, very few places had experience with them. Still, he was too angry to speak. He sat down without responding.

  Elizabeth glanced at Will, apparently waiting for him to answer the manager, but as the awkward silence stretched out, she smiled at the man and made their reply. “I think we’ll finish our meal if you think you can keep any other photographers out, and then we’ll take the dessert to go.”

  The manager nodded, relieved, and asked, “Which dessert would you like?”

  “Oh,” Elizabeth said airily, “surprise us. Something with dark chocolate, if you have it.”

  When the man was gone, she reached out and placed a hand over Will’s fist where it was resting on the table.

  “Hey,” she said quietly. “You okay?”

  He nodded. “I hate this,” he replied quietly. “It doesn’t happen whenever I’m out. Half the time the woman even calls the paper herself to make sure she gets a photo in the society pages.” He opened his fist and took her hand in his. “But the Darcys have been in the city a long time, and when our parents died, Georgiana and I became good copy. She was the tragic orphan heiress, and I was the struggling heir. They seemed disappointed when I didn’t even try to run my father’s business.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “They were probably rooting for me to fail.”

  Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Bottom-feeders.”

  He chuckled, but it rang hollow. “Yeah, that’s just it—I live in a bit of a fishbowl.” He sighed. “I don’t even know why. It’s not like I’m Jeff Bezos. Other than the name and the money, my life is really dull.” He traced the pattern on the tablecloth with his eyes.

  “Will,” he heard her say, “please look at me.”

  He met her eyes and saw compassion there.

  “I want you to repeat after me . . .”

  He stared at her, almost flinching when she reached up to touch his cheek. Her face was so perfectly heart-shaped, her skin so clear, her eyes so verdantly green. She was everything lovely. Then she spoke to him in a voice that was deadly serious.

  “Screw ’em.” He startled a bit, and she shook her head. “Say it.”

  “Screw them,” he said hoarsely.

  “Once more, with feeling,” she said, her lips bowing in a little pout he was anxious to kiss away.

  He drew a deep breath, let it out. “Screw ’em,” he said, a grin beginning to make its way back to his face. Elizabeth returned to her meal and nodded at his. The tightness in his chest eased. She was tough, Elizabeth. Tougher than most men he knew. Maybe tough enough to stick it out with him. He picked up his fork and knife and attacked his steak with energy.

  Later, as Elizabeth watched Will place his credit card in the folder, it struck her that while she was difficult to intimidate, the idea of his wealth and especially his high profile did concern her a bit. His life, his problems, weren’t remotely the same as hers, and although he’d seen her modest little apartment, he might soon begin to view her differently if he saw her budget or the balance in her checking account. She didn’t like the feeling. She wanted to get him on some common ground. An idea occurred to her, making her lips stretch into a wide smile.

  “Uh oh,” she heard him say, “that’s a rather diabolical smile.”

  She looked him over and said, “I just thought of something we can do this weekend, but before I tell you, I have to see whether there’s still room available.”

  The waiter arrived to clear the dishes and deliver two boxes.

  Will opened one of the boxes to investigate and showed it to Elizabeth. Dark chocolate cake and raspberries. “Will I like it?”

  She glanced longingly at the sweet. “The dessert or our event?”

  Will gave her a look, and she chuckled. “It’s dirty,” she warned, and then smiled. “Really dirty.”

  Will’s face lit up. “Bring it on.”

  On his way back to the city, Will’s phone rang. He checked the display and saw it was Richard, so he answered it.

  “Will?” he heard on the other end. There was a lot of background noise.

  “Richard? Where are you?” Will closed the partition between Jerry and himself to block out any additional sound.

  “At the Embassy, in the lobby. Sorry, there’s a whole delegation passing through.”

  They waited for a minute for the line to clear, and then Richard continued, “Three weeks,” he said.

  “What do you mean, three weeks?”

  There was a laugh on the other end. “You’ll need to pick me up at the airport in three weeks. I put in my resignation and finally got a separation date. You still have a job for me, right?”

  “Yes!” Will cried enthusiastically. “In fact, things are going to start getting really busy around the end of
January. I’ve been thinking about taking some vacation time while we’re slow.”

  “Will Darcy is taking a vacation?” Richard asked, incredulous. “What momentous occasion has prompted this unprecedented action?”

  “Shut up, Richard,” Will replied, not honestly upset but unwilling to let his cousin know it. He ignored the question. “This is fantastic!”

  “Don’t get too excited—sometimes they decide with no notice that they need you to stay a bit longer. But for now, three weeks from today. Any chance Georgiana can get out to see me?”

  Will sorted through his calendar. “That’s right around Thanksgiving, Richard. It’d be amazing to have you both here for that. I’ll ask Georgiana what her schedule looks like.”

  “Hey, ask Bennet to come, too. I owe her a beer. Two.”

  Will smiled at the thought. “I will. Why do you owe her?”

  “Well, the trip to De Roos was a thank you for a favor with helping me with my computer. She only got a few sips of her beer before things kicked off. The second beer is for talking me through what she called separation anxiety,” he said with a short laugh.

  Will ran a hand through his hair as he thought about Elizabeth taking off her high heels and sprinting up the stairs to her apartment, about how comfortable it was to sit next to her on her secondhand couch eating their dessert and drinking coffee. She had a brand-new coffee maker she wanted to break in, she said, scoffing at the fancy espresso machine he had in his apartment. She liked her coffee strong and black. I should take her somewhere to try Turkish coffee, he thought, and then absorbed Richard’s words. “She talked you into coming home?”

  “Not exactly. She harangued me into doing what I wanted to do. Turns out that was to come home to my annoying younger cousins and a job I still have trouble imagining.”

  Will sighed. A tension he didn’t even realize he had been carrying around with him melted from his body, leaving him more relaxed than he had been in years. God bless that woman.

  Chapter Eighteen