Chapter Two - The Forester Penthouse
Elijah stood in front of the wardrobe mirror, surveying his reflection critically. His shirtsleeves were unbuttoned at the cuffs, and a black vest hung open over his shoulders. He glanced back and forth between the ties draped over his hand, debating between the plain black and the dark maroon.
"The black," Jane said from behind. He glanced at her in the mirror, and his jaw dropped. She was wearing a snow-white party dress with a single black ridge of ruffles and a pale ribbon accentuating her narrow waist. Her long hair was hanging loose in soft chocolate curls, and her pouty lips were painted a deep scarlet.
"Damn, girl," Elijah said, turning around to take her in properly. "You clean up nice."
"Thank you," she said, curtsying slightly. She crossed the room, her heels clicking on the old hardwood floor, and took the black tie from him. She looped it around his neck and started tying it with a practiced hand. When she smoothed it down, she stepped back to survey him thoughtfully.
Picking up his charcoal gray suit jacket, he pulled it on and held out his arms. "What do you think?"
"Like James Bond," she said, buttoning up his cuffs for him. Elijah turned back to the mirror and buttoned the vest, tucking in his tie. He looked pretty damn good, if he did say so himself. Spending the extra money to rent a tux was well worth it.
A loud, impatient honk from the street below made them both jump and Elijah glanced at the clock on his bedside table. "That must be Char," he said, realizing that even if they left now, they were still going to be fashionably late. He hastily pulled on his shoes and tucked his wallet and keys into his pockets. Once he'd straightened up, he offered out an arm to Jane. "Milady."
"Why thank you, good sir," Jane said playfully as she threaded her arm through his. They locked up the apartment behind them and headed down the rickety stairs that let out next to the front door of the Longbourne Deli. They were almost immediately swallowed up by the rush of bodies on the New York sidewalk.
A taxi was waiting at the curb, and Charlotte Lucas was waving from the back window. Elijah opened the door and let Jane slide in first before folding himself down into the backseat. "Well well, look at you two," Charlotte said, leaning forward to talk to them both.
"Us? Look at you," said Elijah. His best friend, who had been a strictly jeans and t-shirts girl for as long as he'd known her, was wearing a floor-length dress with a plunging neckline that displayed a modest hint at what even Elijah knew was an enviable bust. "I didn't know you even owned a dress."
"I have a couple stashed away," Charlotte said with a pleased grin.
"So, where exactly is this thing?" Elijah asked curiously as the taxi driver pulled away from the curb and into the constant stream of traffic.
"The Forester Penthouse," Charlotte said and smirked. Elijah's eyes felt like they might fall out of his head as he gaped at his agent in surprise, and Jane gripped his forearm in shock. Elijah had seen Forester's from the outside before, a high-class executive suite for company parties and conferences, but he'd never actually thought he'd set foot in a place like that. He combed his fingers through his hair anxiously, suddenly self-conscious.
"Relax, honey, you look great," said Charlotte, reaching across Jane to still his hands. "You're going to turn all the guy's heads."
Elijah grinned at his best friend and older sister, the first two people he had felt comfortable with coming out to about his sexuality. They had both been unendingly supportive of him, and he didn't know what he would do without them. "I think you mean we will turn all their heads," he insisted.
The rest of the taxi ride was spent complimenting each other's outfits and musing about just who in the publishing world would show up for the soiree. They reached the Manhattan high-rise just as the sun had set and the three of them piled out of the car amid the flash of paparazzi cameras. The buzz died down when the photographers realized that they weren't anyone famous, immediately turning their attention to the sleek black car that pulled up where their taxi had been moments before.
Charlotte led them inside, and when she flashed their invitation to the host at the door, they were let into the elevator. Elijah could feel his nerves climbing in time with the lift as it shot up the shaft, and by the time they reached the penthouse, his palms were sweating slightly. There was a ding, and then the doors glided open.
They stepped out into a beautiful wonderland of glass and lights. The enormous open area was surrounded on near every side by walls of paned glass that provided a full circle view of the New York City skyline. Massive round lights hung at intervals and reflected in the carefully polished hardwood floors. A live band played smooth classical music near the bar. The furniture that was set up in the corners was white, chic, and modern, and large doors led to a full balcony overhanging the street below.
"My God, it's beautiful," Jane breathed, her hands covering her mouth. They clustered together, looking around at all of the fashionable people that were mingling and sipping at flutes of champagne.
"Alright, my lovelies," said Charlotte, turning on her toes to face them both and smiling. "Get your mingle on." With that she stalked off into the crowd, making a beeline for a cluster of women in sleek dresses.
"I'm going to need a drink," Elijah said. "You?"
"Yes, please," Jane said and linked her arm through his. They strode over to the bar, and Elijah ordered them both a glass. He sipped it, the bubbles fizzing pleasantly in his throat.
"I am so far out of my element," Elijah admitted as they stood in a corner and looked around at all of the classy, high-end literary agents and publishers milling in groups. "I'm used to sitting at home writing in my underwear, not all this schmoozing."
"Maybe you should've brought Lydia with you instead," Jane said playfully. "She's great with people."
Elijah laughed and shook his head. "I'd never dream of going out on the town with anyone but my favorite sister," he said, nudging her with his elbow.
"You shouldn't pick favorites," Jane chided, but he could tell she was pleased. They finished their drinks and passed the glasses off to one of the roving waiters. A slow, sweet song started, and Jane tugged on Elijah's hand. "Dance with me?"
"Can I ever say no to you?" Elijah responded. She dragged him out to an open spot on the floor near a few other couples who were revolving to the music. When they were growing up, Mrs. Bennet had insisted that all of her children take dance lessons. Jane was the only one who had stuck with them longer than the required year, but Elijah had always prided himself on how well he'd taken to the ballroom. Jane, despite the ankle she had broken quite severely as a teen, was as graceful and lithe as ever as they waltz around the floor.
The song was grinding towards its finish when someone tapped Elijah on the shoulder. The newcomer was an attractive man just slightly shorter than Elijah, his smooth face and perfectly styled blonde hair giving him the quintessential all-American boy look. His wide green eyes were bright and friendly as he flashed them a warm smile. "Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could have the next dance?" he asked, directing the question at Jane.
Jane seemed surprised, and she glanced questioningly at Elijah. Despite the outer appearance of impassiveness, he could see that there was a light of interest in her eyes. "I'll catch you up later, Janey," Elijah said immediately, smiling. He returned the other man's nod of acknowledgment and then headed back towards the bar. As he ordered another drink, he watched the blonde sweep his sister into an energetic dance when the next song began. The two couldn't seem to look away from each other, talking and smiling as they spiraled around the dancefloor.
As the pair spun away, Elijah realized he wasn't the only one watching them. Leaning against the opposite wall was a couple, both of them with their eyes on Jane and her partner. The first was a blonde woman, with the telltale bone-thinness and overly prepared look of a model. Her lips, painted an almost-neon pink, were pursed as she watched the dancers.
It was her companion that truly captured his attention, though. If ever he had seen a man who embodied sex, it was this man. He wore a pinstriped suit that fitted him perfectly, somehow classy while still displaying the fact that he was built like a god; tall and broad-shouldered, with a slim waist and hips. There was a faint five o'clock shadow along his sharp jawline, and his hair lay in a naturally side-swept style that Elijah could never manage with his pin-straight hair. Most striking of all though were his eyes: a bright, icy blue and piercing.
The man suddenly looked over and, for a split second, their eyes met in a clash of blue on brown. A shock raced through Elijah's system, making his limbs tingle. He looked away hastily, but he could feel heat creeping up the back of his neck, and the room felt infinitely warmer than it had a minute ago. Needing an escape, Elijah pushed through one of the doors and stepped out onto the balcony.
The cool night air felt refreshing after the stifling heat of the inside and Elijah leaned against the metal banister, staring out across the city. From this side of the building, he could see glimpses of the Hudson between buildings, a ribbon of dulled silver reflecting the moonlight in flashes. The persistent hum of cars and shouting and air traffic were a familiar backdrop, and after several minutes of measured breathing, the tension gradually left Elijah's shoulders.
"Here you are." Charlotte appeared at his side, leaning her back against the railing by his elbow. "I was wondering where you'd run off to. I should've known you'd be a wallflower."
"Just getting some air," said Elijah, straightening up. "Got a bit warm inside."
"It is, a bit," Charlotte agreed. "Course that doesn't seem to be bothering your sister much. Jane's been dancing with the same guy for the last four songs." Elijah glanced through the windows and saw that Jane was still in the arms of Blondie, smiling to rival the sun. "Go figure your sister would land Charles Bingley."
"Wait, the Charles Bingley?" Elijah asked in surprise. "Like, the owner of Netherfield Corp?"
"That's him," said Charlotte.
"What is he doing at a little book function like this?" Elijah asked.
"Apparently, he comes to basically every event his company throws," said Charlotte. "He likes to keep in touch with the people he's helping out. He's supposed to be this crazy nice guy; it's no wonders he and Jane are drawn to each other." She turned sideways, fixing a stare on Elijah. "So, we've found someone for her. Now, how about you?"
Elijah's mind went immediately to a pair of frost-blue eyes, and there was a near-nauseating leap in his stomach. "I thought we were selling my book, not me," he said to cover.
"No one ever said we can't do both," Charlotte said with a shrug, smirking teasingly. "Speaking of... C'mon, there's someone I want to introduce you to."
"Can it wait a sec?" Elijah asked, the champagne suddenly an uncomfortable weight in his core. "Bathroom."
"Hurry up," Charlotte called after him. Elijah waved a hand lazily at her as he slipped back into the event center. He wound his way through the clusters of people until he found the narrow hall that led back to the restrooms. He did his business and washed his hands before slipping back out into the corridor.
He had just reached the head of the hall when a familiar name made him pause. "Her name's Jane Bennet, and I'll tell you, Darce, I think she might be the one," said Charles Bingley from just around the corner. Curious, Elijah hovered in the hall to listen.
"Considering you fall in love every other day," said a rich voice with a slight British accent, "forgive me for not being blown away." Elijah assumed it was Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Of course, he has an accent, Elijah thought, feeling his stomach twist up even more.
"This one's different," Charles insisted. "I mean it, man, she's something special." Elijah smiled at the purely enraptured tone of Bingley's voice. Jane had clearly done a number on him. It wasn't a surprise; everyone fell in love with Jane. "What about you, Darcy? Are you just going to stand here and hold up the wall all night?"
"You know I despise these events," the man called Darcy said dryly. "I'm only here because you wouldn't leave me alone until I agreed to come."
Charles laughed. "You could at least make an attempt not to look like you're in physical pain," he said. "C'mon, have a drink, dance with someone."
"You've found the only woman here worth dancing with," Darcy said dismissively. "Even if she smiles too much."
"God, her smile," Charles said, a bit dreamily. "Well, you could at least talk to someone."
"I talked to Caroline," said Darcy.
"I meant someone you don't already talk to all the time," Charles said, exasperated. "Meet someone new. Do some networking. Or I could introduce you to Jane's brother. He's a writer trying to get published. Maybe you could offer him some tips, publisher to writer. He's the one-"
"Bennet, you said? I know who he is," Darcy interrupted. "His book came across my desk. It was decent enough. I have no advice to help him."
Elijah felt his blood beginning to boil. Decent enough? Decent enough? He had a right mind to turn the corner and show that pompous douchebag just how decent he really was. That book was his heart and soul, the embodiment of years of his life, and that ass had tossed it aside saying it was merely decent enough? Of all the arrogant, condescending...
Turning on his heel, Elijah marched back into the restroom before he did something stupid. He leaned against the sinks, staring down his reflection. His cheeks were flushed, and there was a spark in his eyes as he breathed heavily through his nose, trying to calm himself.
Well, there went any attraction he'd had to Tall, Dark, and Handsome. Darcy. What the hell kind of name was Darcy anyway? Was it his first name or last name? Either way, Elijah was over him. No matter how attractive he was, there was no way he could ever see himself with someone so cold and dismissive. Someone who used his position to crush the dreams of those beneath him.
The door opened and startled Elijah out of his fuming. He half expected to see Darcy walking in, but thankfully it was just an older gentleman who smiled at him vaguely. Elijah returned it and then gave his appearance one last look-over. He was still a bit red in the cheeks and his eyes hadn't lost their fire, but he at least looked passably normal again. Everything else he could blame on the heat.
Charles Bingley and Darcy were mercifully gone when Elijah left the bathrooms and walked back into the event hall. He was halfway to the balconies when Charlotte caught him by the elbow. "There you are," she said. "I thought you'd fallen in. Come on."
She steered him across the room toward a little group clustered in the corner. Elijah was so busy rolling his eyes at her pushiness that he didn't realize he recognized the people until it was too late. Charles Bingley stood in between Jane and the blonde model Elijah had seen before, telling a story with a surplus of animated hand gestures. Facing them, with his hands buried deep in his pockets and a look of bored indifference on his face, was Tall, Dark, and Douchey. Darcy.
Well, shit.
