Turn My 6's to 9's

Chapter 7: Talk by rule

"Oh, my god," Beth said. She knew she was blushing. This was a strange dream. It had to be one of those dreams. Next, he'd ask her to go make omelets in the back kitchen with her second grade teacher. But Will was there in front of her, as real as real could be and taller than she remembered.

He smiled nervously, and she noticed he looked as unsure as she felt. "I wasn't sure it was you when I saw you. You look...different. Hello."

The pause in his sentence was telling, she thought, and not all that complimentary. She didn't think a change in clothes made that much difference in how she looked. But then again, hadn't she just been having a strong reaction to his suit? She was honestly surprised he'd made the effort to say hello at all, but maybe it was the novelty of seeing her somewhere unexpected. The last time she'd seen him had been the morning after Charles's barbecue. Had they really spent all that time talking?

"Hi. Slightly different apparel than my swimsuit, I guess," she said, thinking back to her outfit on the night of Charles' barbecue.

"Hmm," was his noncommittal response. This time his eyes didn't leave her face, but she got the impression that he was remembering the cut of her swimsuit too and that it was just conscious will-power keeping him from glancing at the neckline of her dress. Her heart beat strangely at that idea, and she couldn't help imagining that Will's view of her neckline from a foot up was probably pretty good. She had to force herself not to fiddle with the dress. His suit was influencing her, she decided. Making him seem so handsome and sophisticated. Making her respond so strangely to a simple "Hmm".

"My friend Carla works here," she finally answered, trying to move the attention away from her outfit. "She's the new gallery assistant. I'm visiting her before school starts. She just moved."

"How strange," he said, making Beth crinkle her forehead. She didn't see what was strange about her friend's employment.

At her look, he elaborated. "My aunt owns this gallery," he said with pride. "My cousin and I are here as a family tradition. We try to come to the shows whenever we can."

There was far too much information to unpack from that sentence. "Your aunt and your cousin?"

Catherine was his aunt?! She could see it, now that she knew. They both had that pride and the terrible bedside manner, not to mention the complete shock at her going to Pemberley; that must have been where Will got it from. She was tall like Will, too, with the same nice features. She thought of Catherine's ostentatious diamond necklace, and suddenly Will's perfectly cut suit made more sense. He'd probably had to go to things like this and schmooze since he could first walk. She could tell from the way he wore the suit and his casual, almost blasé attitude that this event was no more than a typical evening to him. She imagined what it must be like to come from so much money. No wonder he was so hard to understand. She had no experience in the world he lived in, and it seemed like he had no experience in hers.

"Yeah," Will continued. "They're both around here somewhere. Though I don't know where my cousin went..." He craned his neck around. "I'll do an introduction if she's free for the moment. My aunt's right over there."

"We've met," Beth said flatly and Will laughed brightly, both in surprise and true mirth. If she hadn't already been feeling overwhelmed, the way his smile transformed his features would have done it. She couldn't seem to pull herself together.

"I see. You must have met her from your tone. She can be intense, but she always means well. Deep down," he added as a qualifier, and Beth finally had something clever to add.

"Deep down, right," Beth said with a disbelieving smile. "Like maybe a few miles down."

He smiled again, and then a moment passed where they simply looked at each other. Beth began to feel the familiar worry of what to say next.

"Is this your first time at a gallery?" Will asked. Apparently, she was getting the talkative version of him tonight. She wondered if he'd been sampling the champagne.

She nodded. "Not too many galleries in Meryton. Unless you count the one with all the dolphin figurines."

He laughed again. "Sounds intriguing."

"It's not," she said flatly and then laughed herself. "High school art history is about all that Meryton has to offer. I enjoyed that class though; I was hoping to take another one at Pemberley if I could."

He looked surprised for a moment and then thoughtful. "You never came into the city for the national gallery of art or the national portrait gallery?"

Beth was feeling smaller by the second and like some uncultured girl from the suburbs in a borrowed dress. Leave it to Will to bring down her mood. "I can't say it was on my parents' priority list growing up, and the train isn't free, after all."

The money aspect had never occurred to him; she could see that clearly on his face as he took in her point, blinking slowing as the understanding sunk in.

"The galleries themselves are free, if you're already in the city. I think you'd like them. How long are you visiting Carla?"

"Just this weekend," she replied slowly, wondering his aim.

"Maybe—" but Beth never got to find out what he was going to say. A man with an expensive looking camera dangling from his neck interrupted their conversation.

"Can I take your picture for DC Scene. com? Great. Get closer together; don't be shy."

Beth's only consolation was that Will looked just as confused and as much like a deer in headlights as she did.

"Oh-" was all Will had managed to say, and "But-" was all Beth got out before the photographer motioned them to stand close together until they complied. Will's hand was on the bare skin of her arm and the whole length of her body was warm where their sides touched.

"Smile!" the photographer said, and with a click and a flash so bright that Beth was momentarily blinded, their picture was taken. She wasn't sure if she'd managed to smile or not. "This'll be up on the website tomorrow if you want to see it. Here's a card with the link. Thanks." He handed the card to Will and then briskly walked away to photograph a small group of women standing nearby.

Beth tried to blink away the after-images. She realized she was blushing hotly as she stepped away from Will. This was too much: seeing him so unexpectedly, learning his connection to the gallery, and then having their photo taken. She could still feel the sensation of standing next to him.

"I told Carla I would check in with her," she said rapidly. Her own reaction was overwhelming. "I'll...um..." she shrugged, backing away from him, but he just nodded graciously.

"Of course. I'll see you around."

In the bathroom a few moments later, she ran cool water over her hand and then touched the back of her neck and her collarbone. She looked into her reflection, trying to take stock. Her eyes were dark in the dim lighting, but her makeup was still fresh. She didn't even need to redo her lipstick. From the outside, everything looked good; it was on the inside that she felt so thrown.

Will was at the gallery, unexpectedly, and that would have confused anyone, she told herself. She was shocked to run in to him, and then embarrassed by that photographer seeming to assume that they were a couple. But that was normal, she reasoned. Maybe she'd even find the website and laugh at how silly the picture of them was tomorrow...

She smiled at her reflection, feeling her sense of humor return to her as she thought about how goofy that photo must look. Will being there wasn't that big of a deal. In a way, it was gratifying that he had said hello at all. Maybe he'd just been hungover the morning after the barbecue. Maybe she hadn't embarrassed herself that night like she had sometimes imagined. She felt her mood improve.

On a whim before she opened the door to leave the bathroom, she took out her cell phone and held it up in the air, using the camera to see what the view of her chest might be from above: plenty of cleavage to be sure, but everything was covered. She looked good, she decided, and she shouldn't be afraid of Will Darcy. She took a deep breath and re-entered the main gallery, watching for Will from the corner of her eye. He was easy to find, with his head a few inches above most of the others in the crowd. She noticed he was talking with another tall young man with light brown hair, almost certainly the cousin. For the moment, they were just standing across the room, but she didn't know if he'd find her again to talk or not.

She didn't know if she wanted him to talk to her more because thrown in with all the other emotions of embarrassment and awkwardness was the attraction she'd felt when she saw him. Seeing him again under the soft gallery lighting, there was no denying it. The idea of the attraction was easier to reject when she thought about the insulting things that he'd said in the past and how distant and awkward he could be but much harder to ignore when he was smiling in front of her. She'd felt it in the brief amount of time that his arm was around her shoulder, and that was partly why she'd run away so quickly. Will was a jumble of confusion in her head. For now, she'd do what she said she was going to do and find Carla.

"Beth! Look at how many people came; this is amazing. Catherine told me this is one of the best showings they've had in years." Carla smoothly grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the passing wait staff and handed it to Beth, who was empty handed. "Are you having fun?" Carla asked, and her eyes were shining with the joy and excitement of the evening.

Beth quickly briefed Carla on her run in with Will and his relation to Catherine.

Carla's brown eyes widened. "Yes. I finally get to meet this man. Where is he?" she asked, looking out into the crowd without the least bit of discretion. Beth blushed hotly and tugged Carla back around to face her. "Could you be more obvious?" she whispered sharply, and Carla just laughed.

"Don't look," Beth said seriously, and then described Will's general location, watching Carla's eyes as she scanned the crowd of the gallery. It was obvious when she'd spotted him as her eyebrows raised.

"Oh," she said suggestively, giving Beth a knowing look as the mystery of Beth's experience with Will began to make more sense. "You should go talk to him," she added.

Beth rolled her eyes at that. "I already talked to him."

"I've got to keep doing the rounds for the gallery for the next half hour until it's over. You'll have to find a way to entertain yourself until then," she said, unapologetic. "If I were you, those two handsome men are exactly how I'd do it," she added in an undertone, her eyes full of mirth.

Beth hadn't listened but instead grabbed a few appetizers from passing waiters and stood by herself for a moment at a hightop table, enjoying the stuffed mushrooms and tiny spring rolls. She'd been able to look at about half of the art before running into Will, and there was still the other half to see. There was one large painting in particular that she had wanted to examine more closely. She left her plate but took the champagne as she walked to that side of the room.

She looked at the painting thoughtfully, feeling dwarfed by its size. The style was abstract, glowing with golden whites and eggshell, slate, and the palest blue. But stark through the upper right was a gash of crimson intermixed with black. Up close she could see what looked like writing on portions of it, pencil thin script. The piece was evocative and perhaps her favorite of everything she'd seen. She didn't have the words to articulate why, but she liked the excitement of it. The painting had an energy to it. She stood for some time looking over all the details, one arm crossed and the other holding her glass of champagne.

Will approached her and then stood quietly for a few minutes. She felt calmer seeing him now, but she still didn't know what to say. Thankfully the painting was a good enough distraction that she didn't have to. They could both stand there without saying a word.

"This one is my favorite," Will said, after many minutes of silence, and Beth looked at him thoughtfully. Hands in his pockets, even he had to crane his neck to see the whole painting. She wondered if he saw the same things that she did.

"Me too, I think," she said quietly. Their eyes met briefly and then they stood in silence again. Beth wondered how someone so different from herself could appreciate the same artwork. "Do you know the artist?" she asked, thinking perhaps he'd have a connection through his aunt, but Will shook his head.

"My family is connected with a lot of the artists she shows," he said, and Beth thought again about how different his world was from her own. "But I haven't met this one. This is the second time Catherine has shown the artist's work. The first show was all about archetypes and the conflicts between them: good and evil and the tension in between."

"And this show?"

The smile that played across his face was a little wicked as he looked from Beth to the sculpture she'd thought looked like sperm earlier. "Desire."

"Ha," she said to herself, quietly. So she'd been right, in a way. It actually was sperm. "Good versus evil and sex. The artist really focuses on the essentials, huh?"

Without meaning to, she'd slipped into a friendly and unguarded demeanor. The quip had slipped out, and it was a flirtatious thing to say, she realized after seeing his expression. He raised an eyebrow suggestively, and his mouth turned up into a soft smile, but he didn't say anything else.

No more champagne, Beth decided. She did not need to be getting friendly with Will Darcy, whatever Carla may have suggested. She certainly didn't need to be accidentally flirting with him. She'd let her guard down, and she knew from experience what happened when she did that; in another moment he'd be acting as though she was a stranger to him, just like after Charles's barbecue.

The crowd had thinned to almost no one, and as she looked for a distraction, she could see Carla in animated conversation with Catherine and the young man that Beth had assumed was Will's cousin. Carla beckoned her over.

"Everyone from the gallery is going out to dinner to celebrate," Carla said. "I said we didn't have any plans..."

Catherine interrupted. "It's tradition. The team all goes for a family style meal, my nephews included. You'll join us as well. Carla, as our newest team member, is our special guest."

"I don't want to intrude," she began lamely, but Catherine talked over her.

"I absolutely insist. We'll see everyone there in 20 minutes," she called out to the small group of about 10 people still in the gallery. Will gave her a slight nod before being ushered away by his aunt.

"Why did you say yes?" she hissed as soon as everyone was out of earshot.

"What? It's a free meal. And we're getting dim sum. I don't understand the problem. I know how much you like dumplings."

Beth groaned loudly, and Carla gave her a funny look. "What is wrong? Is there something I'm missing here?"

Beth colored slightly under Carla's searching look, but she shook her head. She couldn't explain it to Carla. She'd wanted to get away from Will because she was finding it hard to dislike him. In his presence, she'd somehow forgotten all those times he'd stuck his foot in his mouth: forgotten everything except how nice he looked in his suit and that they'd liked the same painting. But who knew when the next stony, awkward silence or ill-judged comment would ruin the way she felt again?

"There are just going to be a lot of awkward silences," she finally said, settling on that excuse. "I don't even know Will, not really. And I don't know Catherine at all."

"It's just dinner! It won't be the end of the world. I'm new here, and single, and I think Will's cousin and I were really hitting it off. I can't bail on this anyway; it's my boss. What are you going to do—go sit at home by yourself? Remember the dim sum," Carla added desperately when it seemed like Beth would indeed be happy to just go home.

Beth let out an almighty sigh. "Fine."

"Thank you!" she said, kissing Beth on both cheeks as they headed toward the exit. Beth wondered what she was getting herself into.

Dinner could have been worse, she decided. For one, the table was big and circular, and she managed to sit in between Carla and Will's cousin, rather than next to Will himself. For another, Catherine was all the way across the table, almost out of earshot. Beth had never seen such a set up in a restaurant. The table itself spun around like a giant lazy-susan. Waiters pushed cart after cart of small metal and bamboo dishes around, and Catherine looked at each offering and picked three of this or two of that. The table would spin so that each person could choose from all the different dishes. Beth soon found that each dish had different dumplings, or rice wrapped in lotus leaves, steamed buns, shumai...There was spicy oil with chilis in it for dipping the dumplings and dark black tea for everyone in adorable, tiny cups.

Although she wasn't next to Will, she was stuck in between two people who did indeed seem to be hitting it off, and she spent the first part of dinner being talked across by Carla and Will's cousin, who she learned was named Rich Fitzwilliam. He was around Carla's age and a few years older than her. He'd already graduated from college. She found it hard to believe that he and Will were related. He laughed loudly and frequently, pleased by everything Carla said. Where Will was quiet, Rich was gregarious. He had a mischievous streak too as he spent the first half of dinner telling Carla about the pranks he'd pulled on Will during their childhood. Beth decided she liked Rich very much; dinner was worth it just to see how uncomfortable he could make Will, which he did frequently and with great pleasure.

Will hadn't said much, which was no more than she had expected of him. He listened, and he didn't look bored, but he hadn't been willing to talk across his cousin to talk to her more. From time to time during the meal, Rich would look at Will for a few moments and then laugh quietly to himself before turning away. "You're really not going to talk at all tonight?" Rich asked with skeptical amusement after looking Will over again later in the dinner. A complex, nonverbal message passed between the two of them, with Will's reserved expression turning dark. "He's not usually like this," Rich said with assurance to Carla and Beth, and Beth couldn't stop her eyebrows from raising at the statement that contradicted everything she knew about Will. "All the more attention for me."

She was glad her friend had hit it off with Rich, especially after knowing how lonely she had felt during her first few weeks in the city. Tonight, Carla was wearing a printed silk romper with loud colors in a beautiful flowing pattern. Beth thought she was so fashionable and talented, and she was happy that Rich had seen it as well. And she could see why Carla was smitten with Rich. He had a contagious laugh and although his features were far less attractive than Will's, there was still something transformative about his smile. Rich was laughing now as he recounted a story to her and Carla, and Beth found herself smiling just looking at him, long before he got to the punchline.

Will had been shaking his head with a sideways grin on his face and he interjected as soon as Rich finished. "You failed to mention that the 'guy' in the story was you, and it was my rug that I'd just bought to hide the other stain on the floor that you made when you spilled all that paint."

Rich smiled sheepishly. "Finally, he speaks! But did you have to go and ruin my reputation? You could have waited at least until after dinner."

Rich leaned over to talk to directly to Beth but kept his eyes on Will. "I'm very interested to hear what you have to say about Will. I know you met him before tonight. Actually, that's the reason I sent over that annoying photographer. He said he was going to go talk to "a friend", and so I sent that guy right over to embarrass him." Beth smiled slowly with understanding. So that's what that had been about. It had flustered them both, so she had to give a job well done to Rich.

"He's so serious tonight." Rich said in his solemnest tones. "Was he like this when you met?"

Will's eyes had gone big, and Beth had the suspicion that he would have kicked Rich under the table if he could have found the right foot. She smiled wickedly at the question. "Yes," she said emphatically, shooting a sideways glance at Will, who was looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"I met Will at a 4th of July festival. It's a big party with food carts and a live jazz band. Lots of dancing and fireworks. The town goes all out. I thought, okay this is a friend of a friend and he seems nice enough. I'll make some friendly conversation. Instead, our first exchange was him telling me it was too much effort to try to talk to me, and then I honestly don't think he said another word the rest of the evening." She'd kept her tone light. Enough time had passed now that she could see the absurdity of the story, and she laughed at the pained expression that crossed Rich's face and his disbelief.

"Jesus christ, Will. Did they raise you in a barn?"

"It was loud!" Will said. "I didn't want to spend the whole night shouting and repeating myself and still not having any idea of what was being said. It wasn't the right kind of environment to meet new people. I'm not like you, Rich. I don't make instant friends," he finished, gesturing pointedly at Carla and Beth and the easy rapport he'd built with them.

"So he's not an asshole; he's just lazy," Rich said, smiling to Beth. "That's what it really comes down to."

Will sighed. He was being a good sport, but he seemed to know it was pointless to try to defend himself. "In my experience, small talk in that kind of scenario isn't...really worth it," he said, choosing words delicately. He caught her gaze and held it. "Obviously, I was wrong. I'm sorry that I came off so...I just..." he shrugged again. "And it was loud," he added, a moment later.

"Here's my advice, cuz. The next time a beautiful woman tries to make conversation with you," he said with a friendly wink toward Beth. "You go ahead and shout yourself hoarse trying to talk to her."

Beth looked down at her food, hiding a smile at the compliment. Had that been an apology from Will? She'd seen his eyes and he'd looked sincere. She sneaked a glance at him. Five o'clock shadow defined Will's jaw more than normal, and his features looked so solemn at rest. His light green eyes focused on Rich. Just looking at him, it was hard to imagine how frustrated, confused, and even angry he had made her in the past. She tried to think of all her past encounters with him. She could remember how tense his shoulders had been as they'd walked from the pool house to the party earlier in the summer, how he' must have spent half the time in the pool house before they'd gotten there. Here at dinner he'd left the conversation to Rich and only responded when the attention landed on him. Despite the defense he had presented, she still thought he'd been aloof and a little stuck up that first night.

"Did I hear something about jazz?" Catherine exclaimed from across the table. "You know, the Bourghs sponsor the DC JazzFest every year. You'll be going this year, won't you Will? I used to take him and Anna every year when they were just children," Catherine continued, informing the table.

"Unfortunately not. The fall semester starts next week," Will replied.

Catherine's eyes fell on Beth, and Beth could see her remembering that she too would be attending Pemberley. She could only hope that Catherine didn't ask her anything too particular.

She had no such luck. "I'm surprised the two of you never ran into each other on campus," she said looking from Will to Beth.

Will turned to look at Beth with some puzzlement.

"It is strange," she said. "Especially because I'm also a junior," she added with emphasis, looking directly at Will as she said it, and then pointedly at the wine glass in front of her.

"Ah," he said softly, a hint of mirth in his eyes, and then to his aunt. "It is a big place after all."

"And it's not like there's a building with his name on it where I'd be sure to find him."

Catherine let out a trilling laugh. "Of course not, dear. The family's building is at Georgetown where William was supposed to go…" She looked down her nose at him, her expression stern. Beth's eyes widened. She had only been making an offhand comment with no clue that Will's family had actually dropped enough money to have a building at a college named after them. What a different world they lived in, she thought again. Who had that much money to just give away?

She turned her attention to Rich, who was talking animatedly to Carla about Will's twin sister. "—so Anna lucked out. Perks of being born a few minutes after you, right Will? How is your sister? She's at Julliard, you know," Rich said with pride, turning to Beth and Carla.

Beth was suddenly very interested. The infamous sister. Charles hadn't mentioned her at all, but here Rich was singing her praises. Maybe she'd finally hear enough to understand the situation with Jamie at St. Agnes better.

Will talked animatedly to Rich for a minute about Anna's practicum and some sort of concert series that Beth had never heard of before but nothing relevant to what she wanted to know.

"What instrument does she play?" Beth asked, hoping she could influence the conversation subtly.

"Cello."

She waited a beat, thinking he was going to elaborate, but he didn't. "I see."

Here was that familiar sensation of trying to talk to a brick wall. She wasn't going to get any information out of him that would help her understand what had happened with his family during high school.

Having spent the evening with Catherine, she could see how easy it would be to become a snob. What a life to have shows at the gallery followed by fancy dinners every other weekend, with buildings named after your family at prestigious schools. She knew that they had lived in the most expensive neighborhood in D.C. It would be easy to lose sight of the fact that life was very different for most people: easy to believe that you were better than everyone else. She hadn't met Anna, and had only heard Jamie's description, but it was not hard to imagine a miniature version of Catherine making life hell for the poorer kids at St. Agnes.

Rich asked Carla where she lived, and he grinned when he heard her answer.

"You're just a few blocks away. The two of you will have to come out to the bar on my street while you're here. It's a bourbon place; they have like 50 different varieties. Have you been?"

Beth almost had to lean back out of Carla's way. She was leaning forward with that much excitement. "No, I haven't been, but we'd love to!"

Beth tried to catch Carla's eye. The dinner was turning out to be okay, but that didn't mean she wanted to play third wheel on Carla's date tomorrow night, or even worse, go on a double date with Will and his cousin. She prayed that it was just a polite invitation that would fall through tomorrow and not something she'd actually have to do.

Dinner was over soon after that, as everyone had gorged themselves until all the dumplings were gone. Catherine made a big show of paying the bill before she left, but Beth was grateful for such delicious food, whatever the circumstances. Carla and Rich exchanged numbers as the four of them left the table, Rich off to his own apartment, and Will to his parents' place just a few blocks away.

"Bye, Rich. Bye, Will," she said simply as they exited the restaurant and got into the cab to take them home. Rich's big smile was the last thing she saw before Carla pulled the door closed.

"I thought we weren't interested in Will," Carla said as soon as the car began to move.

"We aren't," Beth said succinctly.

"Right," Carla said sarcastically.

"I hate it when you use the royal 'we', Carla," Beth said, avoiding the issue. She hadn't thought there was anything telling about her conversation with Will.

"I saw you looking at him."

"It was a circular table! I was looking at everyone..."

Carla scoffed. "And I saw you standing with him at the gallery. You like him," she offered up in a singsong voice.

"I...I don't know," Beth finally admitted. She couldn't seem to find that same deep dislike she had felt when first meeting him, but...was it possible to like someone who was so frustrating? She'd been so attracted to his suit at the gallery, and Carla was right; she had flirted with him at the end. But at dinner, he'd hardly said a word. It was the same as it had been the last time they'd met.

"When I meet someone like Jamie or like Rich and they're funny and open, that's what I think it should be like. When I picture meeting someone that I like and want to date, I'm picturing that." She thought back to her only other relationship with her high school boyfriend, Ben. "With Ben it was so easy-"

"You didn't really like him though," Carla interrupted.

"I liked him enough!" Beth replied in a snappy tone. "And I knew that I liked him immediately…even if over time he became so boring."

Carla laughed aloud at that. "Will's not boring, is he?"

"Will is not any of those things," Beth confirmed. "Not open, not easy going. I spent half the summer annoyed by one dumb thing that he said or another! I'm sorry, Carla, but I can't like him."

Carla paused a moment, looking at her seriously for once. "Just because it doesn't look the way you thought it would doesn't mean you're not feeling it."

Feeling what? Beth thought to herself. Frustrated? Annoyed? Confused?

"I noticed someone who was feeling it quite a bit," Beth said, pivoting the conversation away from herself. "You got Rich's number."

Carla beamed. "I was practically drooling all dinner. A young, handsome man who lives around the corner from me? Yes, please."

Beth lay restlessly on Carla's couch, trying in vain to fall asleep after the excitement of the evening. She had enjoyed getting to know Rich, and she was happy that Carla had made a new conquest in the city.

Inevitably though, her thoughts were stuck on the other cousin. They'd barely talked but he dominated her thoughts. She didn't feel like she understood Will at all. Maybe she had judged him too harshly in the beginning, she thought, chewing on the corner of her lip. But there was still everything that Jamie had said.

If Will's parents were anything like Catherine, it wasn't hard to imagine them forcing the school to expel a student. But all of Will's closest friends seemed to be good people. She doubted that Rich and Charles would still be friends with Will if he was as bad as Jamie had made him out to be. She wished that someone could tell her what had really happened!

He had insulted and condescended to her. He'd been cold and aloof, and Beth hadn't been able to forgive him for it. He was as unlike his open and carefree cousin as it was possible to be, but despite his verbal blunders, he'd never really done anything to Beth except hurt her ego. But when she thought of his careless, offhand comment about them letting anyone into Pemberley now, it still stung.

Sometimes he was nice; sometimes he was funny; and sometimes he was totally thoughtless or arrogant. Beth rolled over, feeling the sleepiness finally overtake her. If only he wasn't so cute...