I will try to have Chapter 6 up by Sunday as usual (or at least part of it!). Thanks so much for the comments - keep them coming. Some of you have guessed various plot points some of you are way off base. It's fun to read your conjectures.
To My Fibby & My wonderful Beta - I can't wait to hear your critique of Chapter 6.
Chapter 5 Part 2
As Darcy anticipated it would, the week dragged by.
On Sunday, after he arrived in England, he had spent most of the day trying to get through to Salvatore and distance the singer from the unhealthy entourage who were keen on keeping him on the wrong path. Trying to convince the troubled singer that in light of his newest legal problems, it might be in his best interest to go into rehab was difficult with their interference. True to form, the stubborn singer refused to admit he even had a problem.
Darcy finally lost his temper. "You realize that you represent Darcy Records each and every time you participate in these antics. If you truly don't have a problem, you're just a bloody idiot. If you have a problem, you need help. Either way, I don't believe I can continue business with you. When I return to New York, I plan on enforcing the conduct clause of your contract. You'll need to find another label to represent you."
"You won't do that? You can't drop me? I'm Salvatore. I make you loads of money."
"Yes, but that is the best part about this, I already have loads of money. I don't necessarily need more." Darcy answered, slipping on his coat. "I've let this drama of yours take up enough of my valuable time. If you won't listen to the wisdom of your family and your real friends, there is no need for me to continue wasting my energy. I will have to say it is rather pathetic that someone with as much talent as you have would deliberately throw it all away with such antics."
He made it to his car and had his seatbelt engaged, when Salvatore banged on the car window. Darcy lowered it, strangely relieved.
"I need help." The young man looked lost. "What'll I have to do?"
They returned inside where Salvatore dismissed his entourage. When they were alone, Darcy handed the young singer a brochure and gave his mother another.
"I've made arrangements for your admission at the Promise Center tonight. It is a discreet facility. All in-patient. While there is no guarantee it won't leak to the press that you're there, they do have the best security of all the facilities I investigated. It is my hope that you can get the help you need without dealing with the aggravation of having the public involved."
Salvatore started crying, the mascara he insisted on wearing streaked down his cheeks. Finally, he nodded. "If, if I go, will Darcy Records drop me?"
"No, the label will stand behind you if you seek treatment." He told the boy. The young man was just a few years younger than Georgiana. So much talent and temptation to manage at such an age. "I will stand behind you if you are serious about doing this."
In the end, Darcy drove with Salvatore and his mother to the center to help him get settled.
It was much later than he wanted it to be, when he drove up the long winding entrance to Pemberley. Once there, his mind seemed alarmingly preoccupied with Elizabeth. He could not stop himself from envisioning her walking the trails that dotted the property with him, enjoying the dinner provided by his housekeeper, sitting next to him as he played on the grand piano. He could almost hear her laughter playing throughout the private rooms. Even the sight of the English countryside under a full, effervescent moon made him think of her.
"What are you doing today, Will?" she'd asked when he called her on Monday.
"I'm actually riding." From the ridge he could see his favorite vista of his estate. "There is no better place in the world for riding than Derbyshire. I don't get to spend as much time here as I'd like here."
"You should complain to your unfeeling boss that you need more time to vacation." She giggled. "Something tells me that he can be a real ball buster sometimes."
Darcy tried to explain he had a lot of demands on his time, but the more he thought about it, the more he had to concede she was right. Sometimes it felt like Darcy Records was running him and not the other way around.
"So, how did things go with your young friend?" She asked.
"He agreed to get help."
"I'm happy he recognized he needed help." Darcy frowned. He hoped Salvatore would stick with the program. Recovery was hard. Impossible if the person doing the steps did not want it for themselves. "And, I'm happy for you too. You seemed terribly worried about him."
"I was." He agreed, surprised to find it was true. "I was quite relieved when he agreed. He has such potential."
On Tuesday, he flew into Paris, and he had made the board of directors of his winery delay their meeting while he phoned Elizabeth. After successes with Dr. T and Sierra, he couldn't wait for her humorous stories about her shopping marathon. Everyone loved working with Suzzanne. "How did it go yesterday?"
"Not very well." There was a long pause on her end, before she asked, "I was wondering if it's possible to work with someone other than Suzzanne."
This was not the reaction he had expected. "Why?"
One of the board members had gotten up and was looking at him. Darcy waved he needed a few more minutes and pointed to his phone. When she did not answer him, he offered, "I imagine some of the choices she'll make for you seem different than those you would've chosen for yourself, but she is really the best at what she does. I wouldn't trust you in anyone else's hands. When she's done with you, you'll be transformed."
"Transformed?" Elizabeth sounded hurt at his word choice, and he felt his annoyance amplify. Why couldn't she understand that he was doing all of this for her? He didn't want her to be the victim of the vicious and capricious public.
"Elizabeth, most artists have professional stylists to help them with their image. It is something that you will just have to get used to, I'm afraid."
"Have you ever considered that maybe I am just beyond the help of a stylist?"
Her sadness bled through the phone. He should have stayed in New York. They should be having this conversation in person. This feeling of impotence combined with the unnatural longing to be in her presence frayed his temper. He snapped. "What do you expect me to do from here? I'm an ocean away from you right now. While I'm away, Suzzanne is in charge of making decisions about your style. You'll do as she tells you. That's the end of the discussion. Period. I won't entertain any further debate about it. Do I make myself clear?"
Elizabeth reluctantly agreed, but she didn't sound especially thrilled about it. Then, to his great disappointment, she made an excuse to get off the phone. Darcy returned to his meeting in a decidedly testy mood.
On Wednesday morning, he arrived in Rome.
When Darcy slid into the private car he arranged to pick him up at the airport, he was surprised, and yet at the same time not surprised, to find Aubrey Kissinger was waiting for him in the backseat. She wasted no time in sidling up to him and wrapping herself around him. Clearly, she expected a repeat of what they had in California just a few months earlier. And he'd been all for it—just a week ago when he made these arrangements. After engaging in heated kisses with the stunning actress, Darcy broke free from her, instructed the driver to take them to the hotel, which from the knowing smile she gave him seemed to suit her just fine.
After they arrived at the hotel, he had followed her to the room they were to share and used each and every excuse he could find, to put off the inevitable trip to the bedroom. She had even changed out of her revealing dress into something even more comfortable about an hour earlier. With her robe open, the nightgown she wore left very little to the imagination. Yet he, uncharacteristically, resisted. More alarming was the fact he was not interested in the slightest by her forward overtures.
"Where are you?" Aubrey had asked him lunch. He knew what she was referring to.
"I've just had a lot on my mind lately." He glanced at his watch. With the time difference, it was almost six-thirty in New York. The thought of hearing Elizabeth's voice again, especially after yesterday's abbreviated call, made his heart leap in his chest. "On Monday, I'm producing a new CD."
"Oh? Is it someone I know?" She spread some caviar on a cracker. Elizabeth didn't like caviar.
"No, she's a new artist. I just signed her to the label."
"She?" The beautiful actress pouted, before playfully adding, "Is she why you couldn't stay the weekend? Should I be jealous?"
Being here only cemented what he had begun to fear in New York. Elizabeth could demand his attention continents away while he was entertaining one of the most beautiful women in the world. What in the hell was happening to him? He stood suddenly; hearing her voice on the phone was not enough. He needed to see her. "I'm sorry, Aubrey, I really am, but I need to get back to New York sooner than I expected."
"But, you just got here?" She stood with him. "Is this about your new little song bird? Well, I'm sure she's familiar with your rules by now, Will." She linked her arms around his neck, rubbing herself against him suggestively. "She'll just have to wait until you go back in a few days. I can have you now. She can have you when you go back. We all get what we want."
Darcy removed her arms from his neck, stepping back from her.
"Oh, this is just priceless." She made a crude sound in her throat. "I guess next you're going to tell me that we can't have sex because you think you're in love with this new fling of yours?"
No, not love. This couldn't be love. He felt nearly panicky at the thought.
"I didn't think so." The actress smiled at him, drawing a finger down his chest. "I want to do all manner of naughty things to you, Will. I've been fantasizing about you for weeks. I don't think I'm going to be satisfied until I taste every delectable inch of your body. I definitely can make you forget some silly ole' singer you just met. I promise you, I can."
Only, he knew she couldn't. There was nothing Aubrey could do to erase Elizabeth from his thoughts. Every time he shut his eyes, she appeared in his mind's eye. It was terribly distracting. He feared what name he'd call out when he climaxed. "I can't go to bed with you, Aubrey. I'm really sorry but, I can't."
Her eyes narrowed as she cinched the robe over her nightgown closed, hands on her hips. "What happened to you telling me that you enjoyed just having fun and messing around? That you never get involved?"
He couldn't formulate a response. He had never intended to become involved.
"Are you really going to leave and stand me up for my own premiere? It's tonight, Will. How could you do this to me?" Either Aubrey was a better actress than he'd previously given her credit for, or she was truly upset with his last-minute decision. "You could've called me and canceled. I would've made other arrangements. I'm going to be a laughing stock."
"I thought I could go through with this—" He stopped instinctively, knowing that adding to his explanation would only insult her. He ran a hand through his hair, finishing lamely, "I didn't think I'd feel this way."
"You can't just leave me in the lurch here, because you've suddenly grown soft over a woman. I've an image to maintain. You will attend the premiere with me and stay for the after party. You owe me that much at least."
He rubbed his temple. "I'm going down to the lobby and see about getting my own room for the night. What time do I need to collect you?"
After he secured his own room, Darcy was frustrated to see it was nearly one. He was late. He called Elizabeth and it rolled to voicemail. That hadn't happened since the first day he'd called her. He redialed and found himself getting angrier with each ring. Each one seemed like a pronounced avoidance.
When she answered on his fourth attempt, he was incensed. "Where have you been?"
"For your information, Mr. Grumpy, I was in the shower. I hope you're happy. Right now I'm dripping all over my carpet and there's soap still in my hair."
His mind had filled in all the blanks of what she would look like - her curvaceous body wet from the shower, soap sliding over glistening skin. Jesus, he was growing hard just thinking about her.
"Did you make it to Rome, all right?"
"Yes."
"See anything interesting?"
"No." The only thing Darcy was interested in seeing at the moment was her. In fact, he would have given anything he owned to be transported from his posh quarters to her horrible sweatbox of an apartment.
She laughed into the phone. "How could you be in one of the world's oldest cities and not see anything interesting? It takes quite a lot to impress you, William Darcy."
It did take a lot to impress him. But every day, she managed to do it effortlessly.
Elizabeth chatted merrily. She told him at length about her newest visit with Dr. T, her latest workout with Sierra and she talked about plans Malcolm and Phillip were making for their upcoming anniversary. None of the topics she spoke about were ones he would have chosen himself but hearing the witty commentary of her day was wonderfully soothing. He found himself relaxing as he listened to her filling him in on the minute details of her life. It made him feel close to her to have such insight.
It wasn't until much later at the after party while he was in the middle of a conversation with one of Aubrey's co-stars who was talking about the great dresses she found in a boutique that it dawned on him that Elizabeth had not mentioned one word about Suzzanne. Not a single, solitary one. But hadn't he instructed her not to? She had just followed orders.
When Darcy returned to his hotel room that evening, he called Elizabeth but she did not pick up. She was probably at The Hole with her fellas. Frustrated, he called Suzzanne directly. She was happy to report that most of the services she had requested had been completed. Elizabeth had been given facial, skin treatments and had submitted to waxing. They'd spent most of Tuesday and the better part of the day shopping for her wardrobe. He informed Suzzanne that he would like to see her progress first thing on Monday. He felt marginally better after talking to the stylist but he could not ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that things were not going as well as Suzzanne had painted them.
On Thursday morning, as he was eating his breakfast and enjoying the New York Times on his iPad, he found himself dismayed to find a picture of him and Aubrey plastered on the entertainment section under the headline - "William Darcy Walks Red Carpet with Aubrey Richardson at Love's Eternal Embrace Premiere in Rome. Is Art Imitating Real Life?" It normally amused him to see himself being linked to one woman or another in the tabloids. This time, it grated.
He waited hours to account for the time difference before he tried Elizabeth's line. Only, she didn't answer at twelve-thirty, or one, or one-thirty. Throughout the afternoon, his feelings of uneasiness grew each time he tried her line. Every call he made went directly to voicemail. No matter how many times he tried she would not pick up.
It was the final straw.
By mid-afternoon his patience was exhausted, he called Maggie.
"I'm cutting my trip short. I should be back in New York by tomorrow morning. I want Ms. Bennet in my office at 8 a.m. Make sure that she is notified, even if you have to have Sal track her down and deliver the message to her in person. He knows the address of her apartment and The Hole. Then, I want you to call Suzzanne and tell her that the meeting we arranged for Monday has been moved up to tomorrow morning."
Without a farewell, he disconnected the call and stared angrily out at the breathtaking view of the Piazza di Spagna.
Suzzanne and her associate had arrived well ahead of time for the meeting and their presence only further exacerbated Darcy's nerves. He'd been forced to be cordially polite with the two professionals for nearly an hour as they discussed things for which he had virtually no interest. Worse, he barely recognized his office. It looked like a woman's closet had exploded. Boxes, bags, dresses, blouses, skirts, shoes and baubles littered every available surface. The disorder further antagonized him.
"Miss Bennet has arrived." Mrs. Reynolds informed him. Finally. She was nearly a half hour late. If she thought to punish him because of his date with Aubrey, Elizabeth was going to learn he didn't respond well to passive aggressiveness. They had spoken briefly on his ride in from La Guardia so he knew she had not overslept. Before rushing off the phone with him this morning, she avoided his question about why she had not answered her phone the previous day. He knew why. She was jealous of him seeing another woman. Now, she was deliberately late. And they both damn well knew it. He strode into the lobby determined to be firm with her.
Only, he stopped in surprise.
Elizabeth's usually expressive face was downcast, a pale unhappy version of itself. She smiled seeing him, but that smile did not reach anywhere near her eyes. He'd done this to her. The article in the newspaper had obviously done its damage.
Paramount was the need to touch her. Comfort her. Without thinking, he crossed the lobby closing the distance between them and pulled her into an embrace, burying his face into her hair. When her arms lightly circled his waist, it felt like coming home. She was soft and supple, their bodies a delightful contrast to one another.
Darcy would simply explain everything to her about Rome. There was no reason for something that had not even happened with Aubrey should derail what was going on between them. Really, did he really want to crush the stirrings of such a tender heart? When had protecting her become such a habit? He forced himself to stay on task, whispering against the soft shell of her ear. "I can't wait to see you try on your new clothes this morning."
She stiffened in his arms. "Well, that makes one of us." This was not the reaction he had anticipated. He tightened his hold on her. She might be angry over Aubrey, but wasn't a woman supposed to be thrilled to show off her new clothes?
Maggie rose from behind her desk and shut the door to his office firmly. He looked in confusion at the sound. He'd completely forgotten they weren't alone, completely forgotten they were standing right in the middle of his lobby where anyone could see them. He needed a moment of privacy with Elizabeth.
Taking her by the hand, he led her to the small conference room rarely used across from his office. She chose a chair bowing her head as if looking at him was too much for her. He sat next to her, taking her hands in his. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I wasn't thinking about how this would make you feel. I won't make that mistake again. You have my word."
Her head rose, her eyes wide, her voice hopeful. "You really mean that?"
It surprised him, but he did. Hurting her was the last thing he wanted to do.
She let out a deep sigh. "Well, that's a relief. I thought you'd rant and rave and we'd fight about it. I walked around the block several times trying to figure out a way to tell you." Then her face crumpled, her nose reddened as she fought tears. "You have to know they're horrible human beings. I refuse to work with them anymore."
It took him a minute to follow her. This was about Suzzanne, not Aubrey. His being with the actress had not caused this reaction. His mood soured immediately. "Surely, it's not that bad."
"Isn't that bad?" She pulled her hands from his and sat on them. Her eyes sparked with life. "You didn't have the week I had with those two. Suzzanne's insane and unprofessional. And that Louisa woman she has working with her is no better."
"Unprofessional?" He glanced in the direction of his office. No one had previously made such a claim. Could there have been a misunderstanding of some sort? "Why do you feel this way?"
"Because. She thinks that—I think she thinks we—" She indicated the space between them, before throwing her hands up as she was at a loss to explain it herself. Finally, she said simply, "She makes comments."
"What kind of comments?"
She looked away from him. "It's ridiculous. I'd rather not say."
Frustrated, he crossed his arms. Neither one of them was leaving this room until she explained herself.
"She made me do this?" Elizabeth tried again, holding up her hands, flicking her fingers. For the first time Darcy noticed her nails were bright, fire engine red. "I don't like it. It makes me feel like I have blood on my hands. I wanted something a little lighter like a French manicure, but she said I had to do this instead."
"It's not a real hardship to have your fingernails repainted a different color." Annoyance at the triviality of her complaint could not be missed in his tone.
"She said I had to do it, because you liked it." She looked exasperated. Red nail polish was not necessary something he liked, but he didn't want to contradict Suzzanne. When he didn't say anything, her stiff spine broke and she slumped. "She's going to tell you anyway, so I might as well tell you everything myself. Wednesday, I walked out of the hair appointment. I refused to allow the stylist to cut my hair."
Without being able to stop himself, he reached out and touched one of the curls next to her cheek. "You mean a trim?"
"No, not a trim, Will." She batted his hand from her hair. "Suzzanne wanted me to dye it blonde and get it cut short like Pink. But I don't look good in short hair. I know I tried it once in college when Pixie cuts were in." She pulled a few strands of hair forward to cover her ears. "I have huge Dumbo ears. It wouldn't be flattering."
"She wanted you to dye your hair? To cut it?" He repeated. It had been the one explicit instruction he had given Suzzanne. She nodded, but would not look at him. She was too upset for that to be everything. There had to be more. He probed. "What else?"
Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on her knees for a long time before he realized she was crying. A tear slid down her cheek, and she dabbed at it with the sleeve of her jacket.
"Yesterday, she took me to a store where they don't even carry my size. She said if I was a normal sized woman I'd fit in something they had. I walked out on her again. Before I did, I may have made some inappropriate, but well justified comments about her heritage. I may have even dropped an f-bomb or two." She looked at him with stormy uncertain eyes. "Please, Will. Can I work with someone else? I'm really trying, but it's going to take a little time for me to drop the weight I gained. I'm a hard worker, Will. I'll do what I say I'll do."
He was stunned and confused. He'd worked with Suzzanne multiple times with other artists and this had never before happened. That she had done this to Elizabeth after he had told the blonde exactly what he wanted didn't make sense.
Then, suddenly, it did.
Her promise at the restaurant took on an altogether different meaning.
Elizabeth's misery was his fault.
His temper flared hot. Seeing red, he stood. Darcy held out his hand to Elizabeth. "Come with me."
"I'd really rather not." She backed away from his touch which only inflamed his anger more. "If you don't mind, I really don't want to see either of those women ever again."
"You'll want to see this," he growled, hauling her to her feet by her elbow and then leading her back to his office.
Once she preceded him into his office, he slammed his door so hard it rattled in the frame. Suzzanne and her assistant were laughing at some sort of shared joke and he knew instinctively it involved Elizabeth. If they thought he was going to allow them to humiliate her in any way, they were in for a rather rude awakening.
Elizabeth slunk over to the couch and pulled her knees up to her chest. Defeated. And, he'd been the one who forced her to endure this bullying when she had asked him for a reprieve. Never again would he not listen to her when she issued a complaint.
Suzzanne took one look at Elizabeth and then his face before the excuses started. "Will, she's been impossible to work with. She refused all my suggestions. She left in the middle of her hair appointment. Embarrassing me in front of professionals at one of the best boutiques in -"
"Stop." It was intolerable that she thought she could blame Elizabeth. "For obvious reasons, I'm notifying you that your services are no longer required."
Suzzanne stood in her impossibly high heels. "You can't fire me. I've delivered a wardrobe most women could wear."
"Careful, Suzzanne." He smiled icily, his voice a chilling warning. "I'd be very careful if I were you at choosing your next words."
"You'll pay me what you owe me or I'll sue you if you don't."
"Oh, I have every intention of giving you everything you deserve. More than you deserve, in fact." The flash of fear that crossed the stylist's face pleased him. He picked up one of the dresses, examining the tag closely. "You know how it is. When you return something you don't want to a business? They ask all these pesky questions. Why didn't you like it? Was there something wrong with it? Was their service lacking? And, for some strange reason, establishments I work with usually want my repeat business. I don't want them unduly concerned so I'm going to have to be blatantly honest with each and every last establishment. It wasn't them that disappointed me. The stylist I hired, I might even have to mention you by name, just didn't do the job I hired her to do."
"You can't do that." Her face flushed under her perfect makeup. "That'll ruin me."
"I can and will do whatever I damn well please. You know the saying, Suzzanne, a dissatisfied customer will tell ten people. I'm awfully thorough in whatever I do; whatever I determine to be important." He glanced at Elizabeth to emphasis the point. "And, as you indicated earlier, you can always sue me. Something tells me, though, I might be able to afford a better attorney than you can to represent me." He opened the door for her. "Now I'd really appreciate it if you and your little friend here get the hell out of my building. Otherwise, I will have to call my security team to throw you out. We wouldn't want that nastiness, now would we?"
The silence in his office after the women fled was all-consuming. He glared out his window trying hard to reign in his temper.
"You'd really do that to her?" Elizabeth questioned in a frail voice. "Take all those clothes back personally and ruin her?"
"Yes." He turned to look at her. By God, he didn't care if it took until midnight. If he had his way Suzzanne wouldn't be able to get a job as a mannequin in this town by the time he was done.
"Please don't." Elizabeth still sat with her legs pulled up to her chest; her smoky eyes peeked out at him. "I really wish you wouldn't."
He threw his arms wide. He could not erase the damage done to Elizabeth. Could not erase her pain and humiliation. Knowing that it had been done by someone he had hired only made him feel worse. "Will you ever wear any of it?"
"Maybe on Halloween. Provided I was drunk enough. " Her immutable spirit was rallying. Its resurgence had an immediate effect on him. He smiled briefly in spite of himself. "There is a truly dreadful silver spandex number somewhere that makes me look like a giant sausage link. Dr. T will be thrilled. I'm probably never going to eat them ever again."
"If you aren't going to wear the clothes, why don't you want me to take them back?" He was curious. If it were him, he'd want revenge for Suzzanne's torture.
"Cruelty begets cruelty." She met his eyes before quickly looking away, as if she were afraid he would be able to read her mind. Oh, how he wish he could. She wasn't telling him something. Something he knew that was very important. "Isn't there enough in the world already? Besides, what good would come from ruining her?"
"Immense satisfaction."
She seemed disappointed in his answer. "Other than that, Will?"
Elizabeth's question made him introspective. Most decisions he made centered around what brought him satisfaction. Rarely, did he consider anything or anyone else. He had failed to protect her from cruelty and now he had disappointed her in some fundamental way in the how he intended to handle the problem.
"You don't want the clothes?"
She shook her head. "I can take them myself and get your money back. You really don't want to go from store to store to return them yourself. You just flew in this morning, and it would take the better part of a day. You probably have a million better things to do with your time."
"I think I have a better idea." Darcy picked up his phone. Mrs. Reynolds answered his call immediately, "Esme works with that organization for disadvantaged women. Yes, that is the one. Please contact them. Tell them that I have a clothing donation for them which I would like picked up today. And, Maggie, one more thing, I want them donated in the name of Jane Bennet."
Darcy withstood her inspection for a long silent time before she finally said, "You can be really a kind man when you want to be, Will. I'll see you on Monday then." She stood, dragging her coat up her arms, gathering her purse and belongings as she went. "I'll even try to be on time for once."
Elizabeth was leaving. Everything in him became alarmed at the idea. She was at his door, opening it, when he stood. "Wait!"
Over her shoulder, she looked back at him in question. His mind was awhirl, when it seized on sudden inspiration. "I haven't had breakfast yet. Why don't you come with me?" She chewed her lip undecided. "You can't really mean to give up sausage links entirely."
Cocking her head, he felt his body respond to her silent inspection. As if she felt the weight of her power over him, a delighted smile formed on her lips. "You've got yourself a date for breakfast, Mr. Darcy, but only if I get to treat you. I think you've lost enough money because of me today."
Coming home to this had been a disaster. He had planned on seeing Elizabeth smiling, twirling, excited in her new clothes. Like Georgie when he spoiled her with a shopping spree. Georgie. Why hadn't he thought of it sooner?
As they entered his lobby, Darcy stopped at his secretary's desk. "Maggie, see if you can reach my sister. But, after noon. She doesn't have any morning classes today and I don't want to wake her. I have a favor to ask. Tell her she'll have unlimited access to my AMEX if she'll agree to take Elizabeth shopping with her this weekend."
"No more shopping. Please, Will, I beg of you."
"You still need a wardrobe. I'm afraid that your options are rather limited. Either shopping with Georgie this weekend or shopping with me now. Keep in mind, the rest of my day has suddenly been cleared. I'll leave the choice up to you. "
She glanced from him to Mrs. Reynolds back to him. "Well, if those are my only choices, I'll choose Georgie. I can't imagine having to get dressed and undressed in front of you. "
Trying to ignore the seed that was planted in his mind at her suggestion, Darcy struggled to keep a straight face as he returned his attention to Maggie. His secretary appeared to be doing the same. "All right, now that it is settled, please call my sister as instructed. Right now, I want my calls held since Ms. Bennet is taking me to breakfast. I'll return when we are done."
"Very good, Mr. Darcy."
Because they were wrapped up in conversation with one another, neither noticed, as they waited for their elevator, that Maggie uncharacteristically ignored her ringing phone lines to watch the two of them closely. The older woman smiled knowingly as the couple entered the elevator together.