Chapter 2

Darcy woke with a headache as his alarm went off. Too many beers and no dinner. He knocked back some aspirin and a whole bottle of water. Back in the kitchen he threw the beer bottles into the trash and pushed open his laptop. He had a few emails, but nothing urgent so he pulled on track pants and running shoes, jammed in his ear buds and headed out to pound the pavements.

He was going to speak to Lizzie today. He still had no idea what to say and no idea what she wanted. But he was waiting for her video, hoping it might shed a little light.

He thought about the last time he had seen her. That awful day that he had helped her pack up and walk out of his life. Her brokenness had made him angry. He had burned with fury, and it had been several hours before he could really master himself again. Through his protective instincts, he had barely noticed his hand on her shoulder, on her back, as he tried to comfort her. And then out by the car, her hand on his, just for a moment, before she slid into the seat and he closed the door. He hadn't waited for the car to drive off because he could not bear to be still.

He hadn't stopped thinking about her since that moment. Never really stopped. She was in every moment. He saw her every day, but of course, it was never her. Just other girls with auburn hair and skin like snow. All different. All wrong. None of them were Lizzie. He craved her, he longed for her. He burned to have her in his arms. To be able to watch her smile, hear her laugh, smell her shampoo. And he hardly dared believe that one day he might taste her sweet lips and feel her melt beneath his touch. He had touched her before – when they'd danced at that wedding, that day he'd asked her out – but never the way he wanted, never so that she knew how he felt.

He was drenched in sweat when he reached home and jumped in the shower. He could barely keep himself from calling her right then, but they'd had so many miscommunications before that he knew he had to wait. He knew he needed all the clues he could get, so he had to wait for that video.

But it was only 7.30, and so he had to wait.

Lizzie was woken at 9am by a text from Charlotte – the video was live. The viewers would she that she had called Darcy. She wondered what they would think. She wondered if he would watch it, and if he did, when would he? And what would HE think, of all people? How would he react to all her costume theatre? To all those hints that there was more between them than just an awkward friendship? Would he have any idea what she was feeling?

She barely had any idea what she was feeling herself! She knew that she missed him. They really had become friends at Pemberly, she had thought. And she thought that he still liked her, after all, he had asked her to the theatre… But that was weeks ago. And if he liked her, and they were friends, why had he never called her? Why had she had to be the one leaving him a message?

Why was she the one who had to wait?

Darcy had made it into the office and was waiting for the video when it appeared.

He barely took it all in the first time through – there was so much there.

And then – why wouldn't he have called? He tried to defend himself internally. What would he have said? He would he even begin? Hi Lizzie, just so you know I bought out that company and punched George in the face for good measure? I did it because I love you? Please can we just go to the theatre already?

Jane would think they were sweet together. Sweet. Together? Would there be a together?

And Gigi? Well, he had told her just to leave it. And she had been insisting that HE should get in touch himself. But he had put it off because he didn't know what to say. He felt bad for getting between them. Once again he was messing things up.

And how DID he feel about her knowing about the videos? He didn't want her to feel indebted to him. He didn't want her to feel obligated, or that she owed him anything. The whole thing had been his fault. Well, George's fault primarily, but he could have prevented it himself, if he hadn't been so proud and so stubborn. And his good opinion? Well, that hadn't gone anywhere, he just didn't know she cared. But she didn't seem like she wanted to be back to square one. Wherever they had got to, it seemed as though she wished they were still there.

He wished it too. She seemed to think he knew her well enough to navigate whatever situation they were in. He was convinced that he didn't. But she was right about one thing. Talking to the internet wasn't the same as talking to a person. And his watching her videos wasn't the same as having a conversation with her.

He picked up his phone and rang.

Miles away, Lizzie had crawled out from under the covers and into the shower. Her phone lay on her bed spread and it lit up and vibrated. As it buzzed, it skittered a little on the covers, and then came to rest. A few seconds later, it buzzed again. Voicemail.

VOICEMAIL? After all this build up, for all he was prepared to speak to her again, he got her voicemail. Now he knew how she must have felt. He'd left an awkward message of his own and hung up. He desperately hoped she'd call back soon. He had more meetings that day and he really couldn't clear his calendar, nor did he want to play phone tag with her. He considered phoning back to leave another message, to let her know what times of day he would be free. But what would she think? That he couldn't make time for her anymore? That she was just one more on a long list of engagements for the day? No. He'd just have to keep his phone on him at all times, and excuse himself so he didn't miss her.

He sighed and shook his head. After everything, it had come down to this. Voicemail.

She listened to his message with her heart in her throat.

"Hi, Lizzie, it's me. Darcy. I got your message, yesterday. I would be glad to, chat, with you. So, please, call me when you get this. If you can, I mean, I don't want to impose. You're probably busy. Goodbye."

She blushed at his awkwardness. For two well-educated adults, they seemed to have immense trouble forming coherent sentences. She was still wrapped in her towel, perched on the edge of her bed, but she took a deep breath, and called him.

At his desk, Darcy had been staring at his phone, willing it to ring. When it did, he started, and then stared. And then picked up.

"Lizzie."

"Darcy, hi."

"Hi."

"Hi. It's, uh, good to talk to you."

"It's good to talk to you too."

There was an awkward pause.

"So, how are your family?"

"Oh, um, yeah, they're OK. Jane went to New York, with Bing. And Lydia is, uh, as well as can be expected, I guess."

"Good."

There was another awkward pause.

"Darcy, I have to thank you, for what you – "

"No, you don't. That's not why I did it."

"But I do though. You went out of your way, so far beyond what you needed to. You were generous even to get me a flight home, you didn't have to do anything else. How can we ever repay you?"

"I don't want you to repay me. What George did – well, it was his own fault, but it was my fault too. I knew what he was and I did nothing. I had only thought about myself before, and that meant he hurt you. I had to stop him, or I could not have lived with myself, knowing that my actions were the cause of your troubles."

"No, they weren't. It was George's action, not yours. You only saved us. All of us, we're so grateful."

"You don't have to be. And your family especially. I really only thought of you."

He heard her take a deep breath.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He took a deep breath of his own.

"Lizzie, I know you too well to think that you would trifle with me. If your feelings are what they were last November you must say so at once. My feelings are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject for ever."

It came out all at once, and then there was a long pause. He worried that she hadn't understood him. Or that she would reject him again. At least this time it wouldn't be on camera.

"No, I – in fact, I feel quite the opposite. I'm glad that we're friends now. And I – I miss you."

Had he just been friend-zoned? But, she missed him?

"Oh. Yes, well – I'm glad we're friends too. Is that – "

She interrupted him. "Darcy, I don't want to have this conversation over the phone. We find it hard enough to talk as it is."

"Of course. Perhaps it would be best. I should go."

"No you don't have to, I mean, not right away."

"Well, I'm afraid I have a meeting very soon. I'm sorry."

"No that's OK. You are CEO, of course you must be busy. Goodbye Darcy."

He barely had time to say goodbye himself before he was cut off.