Last year on Christmas Eve, with candles and chardonnay, Will Darcy asked CK (short for Carol Kane) Bingley to marry him. The diamond was a 4 carat blue stone, set in platinum and worth 150,000 dollars. CK said yes after a flutter of her eyelashes.
On Christmas Day, as was his habit, Will prepared to go out for a run. A storm had blown in from the north, making the city bitterly cold. Too cold to run Will decided once he felt the wind whip around him out in the street. He hitched a taxi ride over to CK's. He had been invited for brunch, why not come a little early?
*Knock, knock.* No answer at the door. *Knock, knock,* "CK?" Will let himself in, thankfully, CK had given him a key.
Will could smell CK's perfume, Calvin Klein of course, mixed with something else, spicy, almost masculine. It was not Will's cologne. Will doesn't remember exactly how he got to CK's bedroom, his feet must have carried him there of their own volition. He arrived to hear panting and heavy breathing. Perhaps CK was exercising?
"CK?" He called. And he heard a squeal and a manly groan. Something was happening. Perhaps it would be better if he didn't know? He opened the door anyway.
***
The cold for once didn't register with Will Darcy as he walked to The Lake in the middle of Central Park and threw the 150,000 dollar ring in. He watched as it sunk to the bottom along with his relationship. Then he turned on his heal and walked briskly away. He didn't look back.
At four o'clock, his stomach grumbling, he did what any recently bachelored self-respecting man would do in his position.
He ordered takeout.
But not even a millionaire can convince a Chinese delivery boy to deliver Peking Duck on Christmas Day. Especially not with so much snow falling outside. A record blizzard the weather channel was calling it.
So Will walked to his Penthouse elevator, took it down to the main floor, opened his own front door-frowning that even his trustworthy doorman had apparently taken off for the holiday-and made his way into the deserted streets of New York.
That walk would change his life.
Corner grocery stores are still very common in New York City, and even on Christmas Day, there will be at least one still open in spite of the holiday. Will's luck finally turned around; there was one open about 2 blocks down from his penthouse.
"Excuse me? Do you have any tofurkey?" Some type of a ragamuffin was in front of him. Dressed in several sweaters, wrapped in a scarf, and topped off with a large chartreuse green knit hat. Will backed away. Crazies always made him nervous.
The voice continued conversationally and since Will had nowhere to go, he had to listen, "My sister forgot again about me being vegan."
Will rolled his eyes unobtrusively at the man at the counter. The clerk either didn't see him, or chose to ignore him. In broken English he responded, "I check. You wait."
He was back in a moment, "We have tofurkey sliced meat? Is that nice?"
The voice sighed, "That's okay. I suppose it was futile." The ragamuffin turned to leave. It was a woman. A very beautiful woman. Will stared. She smiled at him serenely, "Christmas without turkey, I guess I am crazy." And then she was gone.
And Will forgot about her. He didn't think about her as he picked out his single slice of turkey.
He didn't think about her as Mr. Whong ladled out a second serving of gravy over his mashed potatoes.
But he did find himself thinking about her as he made the short walk back to his penthouse. He wished he would have worn a heavier coat. The woman was probably warmer than he was in her several layers of sweaters.
He thought about her as he ate his single Christmas dinner. She was eating dinner with her sister, somewhere nearby. His sister was somewhere in Asia, traveling with a friend. He had told her not to worry about coming home for Christmas. Now he wished he had. Originally he had thought he was being generous. His sister and CK did not…get on.
The simplest of explanations, they hated each other. On sight. Will had always hoped it was a phase both women would mysteriously grow out of. But now as he thought about it-mere hours after catching CK in flagrante delicto with her own doorman who did NOT take off for the holiday-his sister Gigi had been right. CK had been the wrong kind of woman, the worst kind of fortune hunter.
And he had missed all of the signs.
It was depressing to think about. The expensive gifts she insisted on. Dinners at Tavern on the Green. Vacations to the South Pacific for weeks on end. It wasn't really depressing to think about all the money he'd spent, he finally decided. He had plenty of that.
No, it was the humiliation of time wasted. And now he would spend months morning her loss. She was poised and elegant, and fit perfectly into his world of corporation dinners and retreats.
Not like that ragamuffin at the corner grocery. And there he was thinking of her again!
But she had been beautiful. Such an expression in those eyes. He felt like he could have learned everything there was to know about her just from looking in them. No secrets from that one. She would never sleep with her doorman.
Will unknowingly created the ideal woman for himself.
***
Last Valentine's Day, Will was no longer miserable. No, now he was angry. CK had taken to sending him Love messages, flowers, chocolates, Rolex watches. Apparently and according to her brother Charles, the affair with the doorman hadn't lasted long, and she wanted to be back in Will's good graces.
He had planned on spending time with Charles, also single. Perhaps they would go to a club. But not with CK after him. She would find him no matter which club he chose. He couldn't hole up in his apartment either. CK was determined. Knowing her she would show up at his door in something shockingly risqué.
So Will did something he swore he would never do, he went to a fast food chain restaurant. Which one doesn't really matter does it?
He stood in front of the counter and read over each selection carefully, then ordered something called a triple with cheese that probably had more calories and fat in it than he normally consumed in an entire week. Still, it was Valentine's Day and he felt he had every right to indulge after the afternoon he'd had. CK had sent him a singing telegram. He shuddered at the memory.
There were only two other people in the restaurant, a couple sitting in a corner. There was something familiar about them. Will wanted to be alone, so he kept his distance. He couldn't help furtively studying them now and again trying to remember where he knew them from. The man's hair was styled into casual disarray. The woman's blond locks were stunning, long and curly, and waving to and fro as she shook her head. Voices were suddenly raised. They were having an argument.
"You decided ON Valentine's Day over cheeseburgers that 'we aren't right for each other?' Geez George, couldn't it wait until tomorrow at least?" That voice!
"Sorry, Liz. I gotta do my own thing, you know that." 'George' got to his feet, threw his hamburger wrapper towards the trash can, missed, then sauntered out. Will never got a look at his face.
He redirected his gaze towards the woman. Her face was in her hands. But she was breathing calmly. He was pretty sure she wasn't crying. He never knew what to do with weeping females.
Why couldn't he remember where he knew her from?
Suddenly a pair of very expressive and familiar eyes locked with his own, "Sorry you had to see that."
Will's mouth opened and closed as he tried to think of something to say. He'd never been very good at light conversation.
"Was it really that bad? I should have known George would try something like this. We are eating processed food on Valentine's Day. Not exactly classy." She cocked her head to the side thinking for a moment, "I guess that could describe our entire relationship. 'Not exactly classy.'" She completed her phrase with air quotes.
"I'm sorry." Will finally found his voice.
She shrugged, "No big deal. We weren't together for long, and it wasn't exactly a love match. He wasn't onboard with me being vegan, though he always enjoyed the extra meat." She held up her sandwich minus the burger, and suddenly he knew. Tofurkey girl!
"Would you like to join me?" She continued, "I feel silly talking to you from across the restaurant."
Will gathered together his barely touched meal and hoofed it over to her booth.
"So, come here often?" He said, then instantly cringed. Classy!
But she just laughed, "Fortunately no. Do you know what that triple decker, cheese thing, you've got there is going to do to your heart?" She pointed at his sandwich.
"Thankfully I have a good constitution," Will retorted, clearly affronted.
"Now I know this isn't your type of place." Liz laughed again, "I only hear that type of talk from my grandmother."
Will bit into his burger and chewed sternly. It wasn't so bad, except for the grease. "Determined to enjoy it, aren't you?" She was clearly amused.
Will grinned at her, then swallowed, "I'm Will." He stuck out his hand.
"Liz," and she shook his hand.
And Will fell in love.
***
Of course she wouldn't give him her real number! He told himself.
He had tried it a few times, carefully and methodically typing in each number. Each time it had connected to a Pizza Parlor. He had been mortified. She was probably enjoying her little charade at his expense. Wherever she was.
So he tried to forget about her. But that was harder than he had suspected. Charles had just found his latest 'dream girl,' though this one seemed determined to stick around. That meant a four month relationship for Charles; a record. Especially disconcerting for Will because he had been invited to meet her during her families' 4th of July celebration. At their restaurant out on Staten Island.
He dressed casually, as Charles had suggested. He chose to wear dark wash jeans and a black button up shirt. His sister always told him he looked intimidating in black. In case this woman-Jane, he believed her name to be-was some type of gold digger. He wanted her to know that Charles had powerful friends. Just in case, of course.
His town car and driver, called in for the occasion pulled in front of a single story brick "Papa Rani's pizza" shop. It looked old and dilapidated, but the smells emanating? Divine. His stomach grumbled in pleasure.
"Papa Rani's pizza." Why did that name sound like something he had heard before?
He entered anyway, eagerly anticipating tasting whatever it was that smelled so good. From the promising aromas it could only be fattening and delightful, and that brightened his mood. CK with her constant dieting would not dare step one pedicured foot in a place like this.
A large party of people stood in the center of the restaurant, and Will spotted Charles in the middle, his arm around a tall and curvaceous woman with black hair and olive skin. That must be Jane.
No CK. Will breathed in relief.
He moved off to the side, intimidated by the crowd and began looking at the pictures on the wall. They were beautiful photographs of Italy, if he was not mistaken. A boy, seated on a rock over-looking a vineyard, the sun setting in the background. Probably Tuscany. Another of the Mediterranean Coast Line, the water aquamarine, and sparkling.
"You are definitely vibing intimidating over here." A voice said near his ear, "I guess all of the things I've heard about you are true, Will Darcy."
He frowned and turned immediately, "You!"
"You?" She was confused, but Will would not be deterred.
"What are you talking about 'hearing things about me'? You're the one who gave me the wrong phone number."
"Wrong number?"
"Don't play coy with me. You must have known that number was for a Pizza Place." He could feel his face heating up.
"Yes, this Pizza place! My parents own it and I work here occasionally when I'm in town. It's the easiest place to catch me. How dare you accuse me of trickery when you're…well…you?!"
"What is that supposed to mean?" He hissed.
"You know George wasn't much of a guy, but I know he at least deserved his rightful inheritance."
Will was no slouch, and he caught on immediately, "George Wickham?"
"Yes, my ex!"
"Wait, THE George who dumped you in a fast food joint on Valentine's Day?"
She looked slightly abashed, "Yeah, okay, not one of my finest moments. But that doesn't mean he was wrong about you."
Will pulled her into a small alcove off of the main dining room, they were starting to draw an audience, "Oh, he was wrong alright. Did he happen to mention that there was no money from his father's estate because George Senior had spent his entire retirement trying to pay of his son's gambling debts?" Her mouth fell open, "Or perhaps did he mention that in lieu of the money he had been expecting, I offered him a lucrative position in my company and he refused?"
He glared at her, as her eyes grew wide and slightly misty, "Yeah, I can definitely see that he left some things out."
He stomped back into the dining room, "Hello Charles. Lovely to meet you Jane," he nodded to the woman at his best friend's side, "Enjoy your evening."
Then he stomped out the door, not sure who exactly he was angry at, her for believing Wickham's tales, or himself for idealizing her for so long.
***
So he tried to forget her. Again. This time it was much harder. Because he had talked to her. He had smelled her sweet floral perfume. He had been close enough to her, to feel the electricity emanating from her body.
And to make matters worse, it was Christmas again. Complete with another cold front. And Will was still alone. Charles was celebrating with Jane-now his fiancée. Gigi was with her new boyfriend's family in Japan.
Will stalked out of his apartment once more and headed to the corner grocery. The same one as last year. And once again, he was in line behind some type of ragamuffin. Do they only ever come out during the holidays?
The clerk, was packing up a Christmas feast for one. Another lonely soul. Just like Will.
"Thank you," a voice he would never forget said.
"Liz?" he asked before he could stop himself.
She turned slowly, chagrined and obviously recognizing his voice, "Hello Will. Sorry for taking so long." Her eyes were pleading and slightly misty again: Will could tell that wasn't the only thing she was apologizing for.
"Still eating Tofurkey?" he gestured towards her nearly filled boxed dinner.
"Every year. My family still doesn't get it. Perhaps they would if they'd seen the exposé I'd done on Turkey Farms in the Midwest."
"Are you a journalist?" He realized that after all this time there was still so little he knew about her.
"You didn't know?" She quirked an eyebrow, "I'm a photographer. Those pictures at my parent's restaurant are mine."
He fumbled for something to continue the conversation, "So you're Italian?" Brilliant Will!
Liz only laughed, "Yes I'm Italian. Jane, my sister is dating your best friend Charles."
He resisted hitting himself in the forehead, "That was stupid. Sorry. I should have realized."
"That's alright. We all have our moments." She moved off to the side of the counter so Will could approach and make his order. She showed no signs of leaving and Will inwardly cheered.
He addressed the clerk, "I'll have a double serving of turkey, some, uh…mash potatoes, and…can I have some corn? Good. And," his face fell, "where is the gravy?"
"No gravy this year, not even Vegan gravy" Liz whispered to him, "I already asked."
He turned back to the clerk, "No gravy?"
"Sorry sir we ran out."
"But…well…I guess that's okay." He paid for his order after Liz and followed her out of the store.
"You know, my sister Jane makes the best gravy."
"Are you trying to make me feel worse? Because I have to say, it's working."
"I was actually trying to think of a way to invite you over for Christmas dinner." She smiled up at him, "I guess I should have just asked." She pursed her lips, "So, do you want to come?"
He smiled then too¸"I would love to come."
Next year on Christmas Eve, Will Darcy will ask Liz Bennetta to marry him on the top of a hill overlooking a vineyard as the sun sets on Tuscany, Italy.
She will shout, "Yes!" to the lavender sky.
On the spur of the moment they will wed in the small ancient chapel they stumble onto at the base of 'their hill.'
And they will live happily ever after. Though occasionally they will fight over what makes a proper Pizza topping.
