Chapter 3

Sorry this took so long... school's starting. And I lacked vision. But here we are. Hope you enjoy, please review. xx

"Miss Bennet? Elizabeth?" cried an urgent voice.

Lizzy managed to tear her eyes away from the grey smeared sky to pay attention to her assistant. "Yes, Mariah?"

"Um, you have a call on line three from HR, and the Crawley meeting was moved from 3 o'clock to 1."

"Shit." Lizzy sighed, rubbing her brow. "Tell HR I'm in a meeting. I have to jump on this damn case if I even want to try taking the lead on it."

"Right," Maria nodded, closing the door and leaving Lizzy to retreat back into herself.

It was Monday, two days after Lizzy's return from Paris, and the passive gloom of San Francisco mocked the tempest brewing within her.

Lizzy picked up the phone, dialing her client's number. "Mr. Crawley? Andrew?"

"Yes, this is he."

"Great. This is Elizabeth Bennet. I understand we are meeting in an hour. My office is on the 16th floor of Young & Grantham. I look forward to seeing you."

"You as well, Miss Bennet."

Lizzy hung up the phone, and, resting her chin on her hand, stared at the lifeless pile of paper lounging on her desk, mentally wishing upon herself a degree in interior design, or art history, perhaps. She was indubitably proud of being a lawyer, but environmental law, however spiritually rewarding, reaped few financial benefits. This was a particularly strenuous case - Andrew Crawley, a local property owner, was suing Meryton & Sons for fracking on his land in Northern California. And Lizzy, no matter what wounds she could inflict upon the corporate titans, hit a wall at every turn - that wall being a particularly aggressive defense attorney who seemed to anticipate her moves before she even made them. She had yet to meet this opponent, so now her life was like a chess game, and she was losing against an invisible enemy with few moves left.

An hour passed, and Lizzy did little else than sign off on a few papers and hope that her spirits lighten with the morning drizzle.

"Lizzy, Mr. Crawley is here, as well as Edgar Meryton and his legal team," Maria chirped, sticking the upper half of her small frame through Lizzy's heavy office doors.

Nodding, Lizzy sucked in a breath, straightened her skirt and blazer, and headed for the conference room nestled in the eastern corner of the building. Had she not been so focused on her impending meeting, Lizzy might have paid heed to the giggles and murmurs that floated through the air as she marched passed the maze of cubicles.

Standing outside the room was Mr. Crawley, evidently awaiting Lizzy's presence before he entered the lion's den.

"Ready?" she asked. Andrew nodded uneasily, and Lizzy gave him a small smile in return. Lizzy pulled open the oaken door and ushered Mr. Crawley in. She followed him into the room, only to pause with shock as soon as her foot crossed the threshold.

Hours before and blocks away, Maggie Novak maneuvered behind the piles of papers surrounding her desk to knock on the cracked door behind her. She was a secretary at the expansive office of Pemberley, Andrews, & Oxford. And, because she was newly graduated from law school, she made every move quakingingly. "Enter," the deep voice called. Maggie, trying not to squeak, pushed open the door into an office filled with dark woods and enclosed by huge, panoramic windows. The owner of the voice stood in the corner, his back to her, nose in a file.

"Mr. Darcy, you asked me to remind you of your meeting at Young & Grantham with Mr. Meryton in 30 minutes." Maggie peeped, the piercing echo of her voice bouncing off the broad back before her.

"Ah, yes, thank you, Margaret." William Darcy's treble responded, resounding deep in Maggie's chest.

Maggie blushed. "Of course." She closed the door and returned to her chair covertly before any coworkers could notice her flushed chest.

Inside his office, Darcy put yet another file onto his desk, and, after sitting down, furrowed his brow. William Dary was a thinker. His conversation seldom extended beyond business - sports with Charles or Georgiana served as the only exception. But for a character as taciturn as Darcy, his passion was arguing. The elder Mr. Darcy talked his son into law school after a few rambunctious years at Cambridge, and Darcy felt he had yet to express his gratitude for the man who recognized more within William than the latter could recognize within himself. His current case was especially rewarding: some lowly farm owner was suing a family friend, Edgar Meryton, and his drilling company, over some baseless accusation. And, now he was forced to argue this inane case before some amateur lawyer who had yet to make some semblance of a calculating move.

Darcy quit his brooding, and, sweeping files off his desk and into a leather briefcase, deserted the room, phone in hand.

"Margaret? Tell Richards I'll meet the car at the East entrance." His secretary nodded. "And make sure Mr. Meryton meets us at Young & Grantham on the 16th floor." Will added as he made his way towards the elevator.

William Darcy boarded the elevator and wiggled his leg as impatience and anxiety took hold. The elevator doors shut after what seemed like an eternity, and Darcy ingrained the last glimpse of his reflection before descending into the unknown.

And when William Darcy's eyes met Elizabeth Bennet's across the corner conference room on the 16th floor of Young & Grantham, Will was struck by an overwhelming sense of the unknown, not dissimilar to his previous. Will cleared his throat, and Lizzy, tossed and thrown by the mere sight of His Royal Arse, stared blankly back, before her eyes twitched and her nostrils flared.

Andrew Crawley cleared his throat - quiet, yet telling.

"Ah, yes, Ms. Bennet. Lovely to see you again," William started, reaching his hand out towards Elizabeth's.

Lizzy quirked a brow and took his hand, her slender one sliding into his-calloused as casually as a snitch slips his hand into an unsuspecting pocket. "You as well, Mr. Darcy. Forgive me, but I'm afraid I had not expected seeing you again so soon - certainly, not in this context."

William withdrew his hand from hers, wiping it on his pant leg - an action to which Lizzy ground her teeth. "Of course, of course. No need to prolong pleasantries. Let's get to work."

Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, along with their respective clients, sat across from one another in the center of the elongated table which was, save for a lone secretary perched in the corner, empty. The room was sparse and cold, cloaked in the the smoky grey skyline enveloping the windows. Two eyes met across the plywood: chocolate irises glaring brazenly into piercing hazels. One pair accused, the other observed.

Lizzy chewed on her pencil as the secretary readied herself for shorthand. Mr. Darcy. William Fucking Darcy. Are you joking? Is this some sick cosmic joke? How did I not realize this before?

Mr. Darcy chastised himself in the same manner: How did I not connect the Elizabeth Bennet atop the file to the Lizzy Bennet in Paris? How can I possibly win this case while still staying in Charles' favor? Damned ignorance, Will. Focus. But how could he focus when Elizabeth's Bennet's fine eyes dug trenches into his mind. Or how a strand of chestnut hair, liberated from her loose updo, crept its way towards the open collar of her blouse and settled in the indents of her clavicle.

Focus.

Once given the signal to proceed, Lizzy, ignoring the curly lock of hair wrapping itself around the top of Mr. Darcy's tailored charcoal suit and begging to be tugged, began to speak.

Four hours later William Darcy stood before the windows of the conference room, not bothering to wish Elizabeth Bennet adieu as she hastily left the workspace. He grunted goodbye to Edgar, as Mr. Meryton rushed off to defend himself in another one of the dozen lawsuits his company faced annually. William Darcy was thoroughly confounded. He had expected Ms. Bennet to be smart, sure, but he had forgotten the combat of a novice. Elizabeth fought him with voracious determination; Willi was used to the tedious perfunction often encountered with other senior partners. Elizabeth was the antithesis - she was a sprite, and her fire seemed to light his own. Darcy argued like he hadn't in years. And now he stood sweaty, with coat strewn over the back of a chair and tie loosened. He loved it. But he hated to admit it.

Spent, seething and flustered, Lizzy sped toward her office, flushed from head to toe. She whipped open her office door and shut it just as fast, outsing her client for some necessary alone time.

"Fuck!" Lizzy exhaled. She whipped her files onto the floor, hands clenching her curvy hips hard enough to bruise. Damned Darcy.

Andrew Crawley knocked on her door, tentatively poking his head through the entrance. "Ms. Bennet? Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Mr. Crawley, enter please. We obviously need to review what just happened." Lizzy countered, waving him in. She subtly fanned herself and pivoted, repinning her hair.

"What do you mean? The deposition seemed fine to me...if a little tense." Andrew eased. "You did a marvelous job dealing with that douche Darcy. I've never seen someone stand up for an evil like Meryton before!"

Lizzy chuckled dryly. "You're kind, Andrew. But that was the furthest thing from fine. William Darcy's argument was crafty and aggressive. I didn't expect it. I wasn't properly prepared to fend off an attack like that."

Andrew gave her a wry smile. "As much as I would like to see Edgar Meryton suffer Ms. Bennet, I wouldn't quite compare this lawsuit to world war II."

Lizzy gave him a soft smile - to calm herself more than anything else. Because to her, this was world war II. And she was fighting to win.