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  “Why was I angry?” he asked. She nodded. “Because,” he said, softly, realizing the truth of his words only as he spoke them, “you’re here and he’s not.”

  She shook her head and he was afraid, for a minute, that he’d made a terrible error in coming here. But then he caught it, the emotion in her eyes he hadn’t been able to place earlier in the day. It wasn’t anger or hurt or sorrow, precisely, but a little bit of them all. She was feeling exposed in some way, and his statement about Richard had resonated with her. His first response was that he had, thank God, stumbled onto the right explanation. His blunt honesty wasn’t always met with this kind of quiet acceptance.

  Elizabeth was silent for what seemed like a very long time before she finally spoke. “Very well, Mr. Darcy,” she said evenly. “I suspect that was not an easy thing to admit.” She paused. “I forgive you.”

  He nodded. “Thank you,” he said, an immense sense of relief coursing through him.

  “I suppose you can come have something to eat if it’s not all gone by now,” she offered, turning to walk to the yard. He trailed along after her. “Aunt Maddy will give me a lecture if you don’t.”

  “I’d like that,” he said, watching her hips swing ever so slightly as she exited through the kitchen door to the deck outside. He blinked. Oh, this is trouble.

  Chapter Eight

  Will was just finishing his burger when the lyrics of Matisyahu’s “Live Like a Warrior” came blaring though the screen door.

  “That’s me,” said Elizabeth, who climbed the steps two at a time and dove for the door and her phone inside. Will stood and collected the plates around him, carrying them up to the kitchen behind her. When he entered, Elizabeth was already on the phone speaking in low tones to someone. When she glanced warily at him in the middle of a sentence, he realized it must be Richard. He touched his phone in its holster on his waist and sighed, feeling like he was waiting for the principal to call him into his office for not following the rules. He hated that Richard still tried to boss him around like a younger brother. Yes, he should have checked his calendar this morning, but Richard shouldn’t have made the appointment without telling him. He’d been trying to reach the man all weekend—was a quick text too much to ask?

  He heard Elizabeth say, “It’s your fault too, Richard,” and tried not to grin. Vindicated.

  While he waited, Will glanced around the kitchen. It had traces of the Craftsman aesthetic, too, but it was completely modernized, with polished quartz countertops and glass-tiled backsplashes in muted blues, greens, and browns. White paneled cabinet doors with stainless-steel handles mirrored the light fixtures, and a pot rack was suspended from the ceiling. On the end of the peninsula against the wall was the longest phone charging station he’d ever seen, each slot with its own short power cord and marked with a small bit of masking tape bearing a letter written in black marker. Every slot except one currently held a phone. That spot was marked “EM.” It must be Elizabeth’s. What’s the M stand for?

  “House rules,” Maddy said as she walked in with the children’s dishes. Jane and Mary followed behind her holding the barbeque tools and serving platters, which they set near the sink. Maddy put down her load and waved at Elizabeth, gesturing to the deck. When he turned, Elizabeth stepped outside, phone held to her ear.

  “When we’re in the house,” Maddy explained, “the phones stay here.”

  “Those of us who are out of high school have more privileges,” Jane clarified.

  Maddy agreed. “However, there are a lot of phones in this house, so we centralize the charging station.” She gave Jane a pointed look. “This way there’s no searching through a mountain of dirty clothes when someone leaves a phone in her pocket.”

  Jane threw up her hands. “One time, four years ago, Aunt Maddy!” she exclaimed plaintively. Charlotte just laughed.

  Will didn’t know how to respond, so he just nodded uneasily. “Are there other dishes left?” he asked, anxious to be doing something. “I can go get them.”

  “No, we have everything,” Maddy assured him. “Next time we’ll leave you to wash up.”

  Next time? Will wondered. She seemed certain he wasn’t about to get pitched out on his backside. He wasn’t so sure.

  Charlotte seemed to understand. “There will be a next time, Will. We were talking it over, and we think Elizabeth likes you.”

  “Why would you think that?” Will asked doubtfully.

  “Lizzy doesn’t forgive easily,” Jane answered, and made a face. “I love her dearly, but she is stubborn about her first impressions. Either you must have made some incredible apology, or she likes you. Most likely both.”

  “I’m still counting on you for next week,” Charlotte said, reaching up to place a hand lightly on his shoulder and looking him full in the face with her eyebrows raised. “You could tell her that women shouldn’t be in the military or insult her math skills. I’ll make a list. Jane can help me.”

  “Insult whose math skills?” asked Mary as she waltzed through the crowd to the sink and opened a drawer filled with washcloths.

  “I hope you’re right,” Will said to Charlotte, and saw that she knew what he meant.

  “So, what did you do, Will?” Mary asked conspiratorially.

  He shrugged. “You’ll have to get the story from your sister.”

  “What story?” asked Kit as she and Lydia stumbled through the door and reached for their phones almost immediately. Maddy held up one finger, and they pulled their hands back.

  “Are you finished with everything on your reading lists?”

  “Nooo,” they moaned in unison. Lydia’s shoulders slumped.

  “Then there’s no point in collecting your phones, is there?”

  “But I told Sierra I’d call her tonight,” Lydia pleaded. Her aunt just raised an eyebrow.

  “I cannot wait for senior year,” Kit said. The two flounced away dramatically, Kit’s golden locks and Lydia’s slightly darker ponytail disappearing up the stairs.

  Will smiled a little as he recalled similar conversations with Georgiana. He toyed with his own phone. He should call her tonight. He glanced over at Elizabeth. Should I stay until she’s done or should I leave?

  He watched as Elizabeth ended her call. She walked over to the group.

  “Can I help with anything, Aunt Maddy?” she asked, shooting Will a look that said stay here. He was happy for the clarification.

  “No, dear, Will was just offering as well. Next time.” She went to the back door to call in her four youngest and was soon deeply involved negotiating a dispute between her two sons and a box of LEGOs.

  “Richard wants us to go out to coffee and talk about FORGE,” she said reluctantly. “I’m not going to work for you. I’ve already told him.”

  Will grabbed the lifeline. “But we should get coffee anyway, so he’ll get off your back.”

  She released a short, pained grunt. “Yeah.”

  “I’m the younger cousin, so I’m familiar with his edicts. I don’t mind, but if you don’t want to go . . .”

  Elizabeth glanced at her sisters and Charlotte in the kitchen who were making kissing faces at her.

  “Like they’re twelve,” she muttered. “I have to get out of here.”

  Will grinned, his first genuine smile in days. “So, coffee then?”

  “Yeah, all right. It’s too late for The Corner.” She paused. “Jane, tell Uncle Ed we’re going to Tierney’s. For coffee.”

  Jane’s blue eyes twinkled with mischief. “Irish coffee?”

  “Coffee coffee.”

  Will dug in his pocket for his keys while Elizabeth went to speak to her aunt.

  When she returned, she said, frowning, “It’s not far, but you’ll have to drive us. My aunt’s car is stuffed with some popcorn tins the kids are selling for church choir or something.”

  “It’s okay,” he said, trying not to read anything into her desire to take separate cars. He waited for her to precede him outside.
/>   “Wow,” she said as he indicated where he was parked. “Nice car.”

  Will smiled a little. “I love this car,” he replied. It was a sleek Audi, something between a sedan and a sports car. It wasn’t the latest model, but it was in immaculate condition. He hit the remote to unlock the doors. “It’s the first car I bought entirely with my own money, after my second year at FORGE.”

  She slid into the passenger seat. “Wow,” she said, running her hands over the leather seat. She pulled the seat belt across her torso, and he heard the smooth click of the latch.

  “So,” she asked, “did you never have a car before, or . . .”

  He checked his mirrors and pulled the car out onto the street. “Richard’s dad is a senator; did he tell you?” he asked.

  She frowned, clearly not following the change of subject. “Yes.”

  “It’s not just a job for him, being a politician. It’s who he is.”

  “Okay . . .” The word was drawn out.

  Will hit the turn signal and changed lanes. “For my dad, it was being a businessman. Wheeling and dealing. Acquisitions and mergers. He was amazing at it, and it was really how he defined himself. He got so good he had owners in trouble coming to him instead of having to seek them out.”

  Elizabeth didn’t say anything, but he could tell she was listening.

  “When he died, I inherited the company. It’s a private company, a family company, and it’s extremely successful.” Elizabeth pointed left. When they had made the turn and pulled up in front of the tavern, Will released his belt but remained in his seat. “It’s who my dad was, and I’m proud of it. I’m proud to be his son. But acquisitions and mergers—it’s not who I am.”

  She nodded. “Did you sell it?”

  He shrugged. “I hired a CEO whose experience was a better fit and whose age made the advisory board more comfortable. I remain informed of the major decisions and can veto them if I think they’re not true to the company’s mission and expertise, but fortunately that doesn’t often happen.” He looked over at her. “I have a sister, so I figured she might be interested in working there when she’s out of school, but for now it makes us a good income considering we don’t have to invest all that much time in it.”

  “You’d just hand it over to her?” Elizabeth asked. “I mean, I have no idea how that kind of thing works, but it must be worth a lot of money.”

  He nodded. “It is, but it’s not like I would be giving her anything. We both own half. I make the decisions now, but once she graduates, she’ll be a more equal partner if she wants.” He paused. “It’s not quite the same, but Richard would be a partner at FORGE, if he’d ever come home.” He shook his head at the bitterness in his words and continued. “So, we have this money,” he explained, “but it’s the money my parents left us. It’s great, don’t get me wrong—it’s made a lot of things possible. But it’s not mine. FORGE is mine. And so is this car.”

  Elizabeth seemed to mull that over before she released her own belt.

  “So, Tierney’s?” Will asked as they exited the car.

  “It’s been here forever. It’s Uncle Ed’s favorite hangout when the estrogen level in the house gets too high, which is at least once a week.” Elizabeth grinned. “The boys are still too young to raise the needle on testosterone much—it’s still seven to three. Even the dogs are girls.”

  They walked in the door, and Will looked around. There was a large bar with a gleaming dark wooden top. The floor was crowded with tables and booths. Elizabeth waved to the man behind the bar and grabbed a booth with a view of the door.

  The bartender appeared at the table. “Sam Adams, Liz?” he asked with a smirk. She shook her head.

  “Coffee, please, Nathan,” she said. He turned to Will.

  “And you, sir?”

  “Same.”

  Elizabeth’s phone buzzed. She looked at her texts and typed something before she shoved her phone back in her pocket.

  Will looked pained. “Richard?”

  She scowled. “He’s so pushy.”

  Will laughed a little. “He is,” he agreed. “Always has been.”

  She took a picture of him with her phone.

  “Really?” he asked, pulling a face.

  Elizabeth wasn’t fazed. “Evidence,” she replied with a shrug.

  The coffee arrived, and he picked up the cream. Elizabeth, he saw, drank her coffee black.

  Elizabeth stared at him briefly before breaking into a small grin and shaking her head. “Okay, I know I forgave you, and I meant it. But you really were an arrogant ass this morning.”

  Despite the cheerful tone of her words, Will winced. “Yeah. Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck. Usually he had full control over his behavior. He had to. But of all people, Richard has the power to provoke him. He wrapped his hands around the warm mug. The coffee smelled delicious, and he took a sip.

  Elizabeth was giving him a skeptical look.

  “What?” he asked, confused, as he set his cup back on the table. She didn’t say anything. “You know,” he retorted, “I have to be tough. If you’re kind in business, you get eaten.”

  She considered him closely for a few more seconds. “Okay,” she said with a chuckle. “You’re right—I forgave you, I shouldn’t give you a hard time about it. First, call me Elizabeth. I’m used to Staff Sergeant or Bennet, but Ms. Bennet is just weird.” She toyed with the saltshaker. “Second, tell me about FORGE so I can get Richard to shut up. All I know is what I learned on your website.”

  Something was bothering him. “How do they know your order here? I thought you just got back.”

  That emotion he couldn’t place flashed across her face again. She crossed her arms over her chest. “It’s what my Uncle Ed drinks. FORGE, please.”

  “All right, if you don’t want to tell me . . .” He hesitated when her face remained stoic, worried that his attempt to tease her back had fallen flat.

  He cleared his throat. “FORGE is, for lack of a better term, a venture capital company. We specialize in finding young, innovative companies and funding their projects. We invest in products that are nearly ready to go to market but don’t have adequate funding. We help them become more visible, but in a few cases, we’ve invested more heavily in the development.”

  She leaned forward. “For example?”

  “Most of it is proprietary,” Will said, warming to his subject, “but one project was just given the green light by the FDA—it’s an improved organic 3-D printer that should be able to grow better organs for transplants. Another is a solar energy collector that’s painted directly onto roof tiles, meaning there’d be no need for those heavy, expensive panels.”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Those are good projects, but I guess I don’t see why Richard thought I’d be right for you guys. Seems better suited for an engineer on the design side or an MBA or JD for marketing and clearing regulatory hurdles. Those aren’t exactly my forte.”

  Will shrugged. “I imagine he thought you’d bring a different perspective to the table, and you might help us get an edge on evaluating projects in your area. You know, maybe get your opinion on new AI or technologies being developed in the security field.”

  Elizabeth shook her head. “At the moment, there’s probably more money in infidelity,” she said, relaxing a bit. “There are a lot of free apps out there that track phones and so on, but not many would stand up to the kind of scrutiny a court case requires.”

  “See,” Will said with a nod, “that’s probably exactly what Richard was thinking about.”

  “Okay, I can see where he was going,” Elizabeth said, “but really, the incentive is all on your side here. I know what I can do and how much I can make doing it, and I doubt your company can offer me what I’ll have just being my own boss.” She took another drink.

  Will frowned. “You would have a steady paycheck, good benefits, and the opportunity for substantial bonuses,” he said. He was honestly surprised that anyone wouldn’t want that.

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nbsp; “Look,” Elizabeth said, setting her mug down on the table, “even though we’re talking about salary and benefits when I’ve neither been offered nor accepted a position with your firm, what you are offering is stability. Maybe that’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?” Will asked, truly interested in the answer.

  “Think about it,” she said with a smile that was almost bashful, “I’ve been taking orders and working on someone else’s schedule for six years.” Longer. “Stability is nice, in my personal life. But what I want at work,” she said, raising one eyebrow as she evaluated him over the rim of her coffee cup, “is independence.”

  Will took another drink. “So you’d never even consider working for us?”

  She paused, considering his question, then said, “Not as a full-time employee, no. But if you ever wanted me to review a good prospect in my field, you could hire me to write up an opinion. Or if you wanted me to test your own system for vulnerabilities, I could do that.” She set the cup down. “As a contractor.”

  Will scratched the side of his jaw. “Okay,” he said, “I’ll keep that in mind.” He felt better already, more awake. Was it the caffeine or the conversation? “One more thing.”

  She lifted her eyes to his. “Yes?”

  Will felt an electric current run through him. He blinked but recovered quickly. “Now that we’ve resolved that I’m not going to make a job offer and you’re not going to accept one, please call me Will.”

  Elizabeth turned her head a little to hide a grin and raised her coffee cup in agreement. Will touched his own to it softly, thinking that the small clink of the mugs was the start of something. Whether it would turn out to be something good, he couldn’t yet say.

  Chapter Nine

  Elizabeth looked at the red brick building and then up and down the street, satisfied. It wasn’t a ritzy neighborhood, but it would do. The apartment itself was larger than she thought she’d be able to afford on her budget, and it was close to the parkway.