Chapter Eight - The Unexpected Arrival
"Ugh, kill me now."
From the driver's seat, Jane laughed indulgently. "You're being dramatic."
Elijah glanced across at her, scowling. "I am not." Jane looked away from the road long enough to raise an eyebrow pointedly. "Okay, maybe," he amended grudgingly. "But the situation warrants it, don't you think? Out of all the possible editors in the world..."
The moment he'd gotten home from his meeting at Pemberley, Elijah spilled the whole story to a shocked Jane. She was as surprised by the news as he was and even offered to delay their trip out to Southampton until the next day. Not willing to let her give up on something that she clearly wanted so much, he was now sulking in the passenger seat of her battered VW Bug and indulging his self-pity.
"He runs the company though, doesn't he?" Jane pointed out. "Charlie said he built it up himself since college. So, I mean, he's got to be good at what he does, at least."
"Well, I mean, yeah, I guess," Elijah admitted reluctantly. "He seemed to know his stuff and yeah, some of his suggestions were good. But the way he said it all, it was so patronizing. Like I was stupid for not thinking of it in the first place."
"I'm sure that's not how he meant it," Jane said. "It's his job to make books better. If writers thought of it all first, he'd be out of a job."
Elijah scowled. "Whose side are you on here?"
Jane laughed. "I didn't think there were sides to be on," she said. "You're just determined to not like him."
"Because he's a jerk," Elijah protested. "God, I'm gonna kill Charlotte. She could've at least warned me. I was so shocked, I must have looked like such an idiot just staring at him. Why wouldn't she tell me?"
"Would you have gone if you knew?" Jane asked.
"Of course I would've," Elijah said, indignant without even knowing exactly why. "I'm not going to give up on my career just because Darcy is an ass. It just would've been nice to, you know, prepare myself." Jane huffed a small noise, clearly not buying his line but humoring him for the moment. Elijah sighed and combed a hand back through his hair. "Fine, be disgustingly diplomatic and polite, then," he groused, but he was unable to completely fight off a smile. "I'm just gonna sit here in my shame and self-pity alone."
At that, Jane laughed outright. "Don't be a sourpuss," she teased. "We're going out to spend the weekend in the Hamptons with friends. No work, no stress. So just forget all that for now, okay? Leave Darcy and all that drama for when we get home."
Elijah snorted, stubbornly not wanting to dismiss it so quickly, but he couldn't hold onto the anger from before. After a minute, he reached over and turned up the volume on the radio, filling the tiny car with the sound of her favorite cheesy pop music. Jane beamed and before they'd gone more than a mile, she was singing along enthusiastically just like he'd known she would. A lifetime of knowing someone's quirks paid off, and with Jane, singing had always been a definite sign that she was in a good mood.
It was also, unfortunately for Elijah, weirdly contagious, which was why he was also belting out the over-produced pop music by the time the Bug finally finished the three-hour drive across Long Island.
Southampton was somehow precisely the way Elijah had always imagined, just bigger. Posh gardens the size of city blocks and gated communities lined the roads, and it was impossible not to gape at the houses; most of them would've fit his childhood home seven times over. The other cars that they passed were all sleek and expensive, making the ancient Volkswagen stand out all the worse for its faded paint and peeling bumper stickers.
The GPS on Jane's phone steered them onto a road that curved along the coast, glimpses of the ocean visible between houses that each had a cordoned off section of private beach. Despite himself, Elijah felt a flutter of nerves and excitement blossom in his stomach as the signal on her phone brought them closer and closer. They rounded another turn and then, finally, the phone chirped loudly to announce their arrival.
At the end of a curved cobblestone driveway, the Bingley house looked like it would have fit nicely on a Civil War-era plantation. It was a masterpiece of gray stone and white trim, with enormous, shuttered windows and twin, red brick chimneys sprouting from the gabled roof. A column-lined porch wrapped all the way around the house, edged by perfectly sculpted hedges and the occasional rosebushes that were only just beginning to bloom.
"Wow," Elijah breathed in awe. Jane nodded in silent agreement. Shifting the Bug into gear, she drove them slowly up the driveway and parked it at the end of the line of other cars. The red Beetle stood out like a neon sign beside the luxury cars and a soft-top convertible. They both grabbed their bags and walked cautiously up to the front door, feeling wildly out of place.
Before either of them could raise a hand to knock, the door swung inward to reveal Charlie Bingley. It was the first time Elijah had seen him in anything other than a suit, and somehow it only made him more attractive. The worn graphic tee and jeans, matched with his blonde curls and broad smile, made him look like he'd stepped straight off an American Eagle billboard.
This guy is way too beautiful to be straight, Elijah thought, almost bitterly. Of course, when he saw the way that both Jane and Charlie lit up when they locked eyes, it was hard to hang onto that resentment.
"Hey, sorry, I heard your car pull up," Charlie said hurriedly. "I'm glad you guys made it."
"Sorry, we ran into traffic on the 4-9-5," Jane said as Charlie stepped back to let them into the foyer. Elijah made a conscious effort not to gape; the hall was cavernous, with a staircase curving up either side to a balcony where the upstairs hallways converged. There was a simple, understated chandelier above them and the floors were gleaming, polished wood.
"No worries, we've just been having a few drinks out on the back porch," Charlie said. "C'mon, I'll show you to your rooms so you can put your stuff away and then you can join us." Charlie picked up Jane's bag and threaded his free hand through hers, and led them up one of the staircases. They headed down the righthand hall, and Charlie stopped in front of a door. "This one's for you, Jane, and the next is for you, Elijah."
As Jane stepped into the first room, Elijah headed to the next opened door. The room beyond was painted in soft blues, and the furniture was made of bleached driftwood. Elijah set his bag by the bed, and after leaning his weight onto the mattress experimentally almost refused to go join the others just for the chance to sink into the soft mattress.
When he slipped back into the hall, he caught a split second view of Jane and Charlie exchanging adoring looks, before they noticed him and jumped apart like guilty teenagers. "I'm sure I can find my way down alone if you two need a minute," Elijah said suggestively.
Charlie laughed, and Jane stuck out her tongue indignantly, both of them blushing like school kids. Neither of them said anything to defend themselves as Charlie turned and guided them back downstairs. Through the dining room, they went out a set of wide French doors that opened onto the patio. Elijah stopped dead in awe.
Emerald green grass was neatly trimmed and perfectly smooth. There was a large, artistically curved swimming pool sunk into the yard and a wooden gazebo covered in climbing flowers. Further out, the grass tapered off into sand, and then finally into the glittering ocean that stretched into the horizon.
"Not a bad view, huh?" Caroline Bingley was reclined in a patio chair beside the doors, a glass of wine cradled in one hand while the other lifted her sunglasses so she could see him.
"So, introductions," Charlie said, clapping his hands together. "You guys already know Carrie."
"Nice to see you again," Caroline said with a small smile, lowering her sunglasses back into place.
"But this is my older sister, Louisa," Charlie continued, gesturing to the woman on Caroline's other side. The resemblance between the two women was immediately apparent, both of them petite, pointed, and a shade of blonde not entirely natural. However, where Caroline embodied her pale features, this woman was the peculiar hue of gold that only came from extensive fake tanning. She also had clearly had some work done to her chest; even Elijah, who was no expert in the area, knew there was no way those were real.
Charlie finished with a wave of his hand, "and her husband, Brian." A middle-aged man, who looked somehow simultaneously pleasant and yet wholly nondescript, was propped against the porch rail, engrossed in something on his phone. He didn't even look up as he was introduced, although Louisa toasted them with her drink.
"And this is Jane Bennet," Charlie said, settling his hand in the small of her back. "And her brother, Elijah."
"It's so nice to meet you," Jane said enthusiastically, aiming the greeting at Louisa. "Charlie's told me so much about you."
"All good things, I hope," Louisa replied with a simpering laugh. She patted the empty lounger next to her and Jane hurried to sit down.
Elijah hovered awkwardly for a second until Charlie nodded toward the patio table, which was laden with platters of finger foods. "Want a beer?" Charlie asked. He reached into the cooler and pulled out two bottles, passing one to Elijah. When Charlie sat down at the table, Elijah joined him with a grateful smile. He helped himself to a plate of food, aware that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"I've been looking forward to finally meeting you," Louisa said to Jane from their lounge chairs. "My baby brother's been raving about you all week. I can see why, too, you're totally as pretty as he said. You're like a real-life anime character."
Elijah looked up, one eyebrow raised in surprise at the vaguely racist stereotype, but no one else seemed to notice. Jane wasn't offended, of course, and Louisa was already barrelling ahead with the conversation. "Charlie said you're an art teacher? How'd you get into that?"
"It's what I went to school for," Jane said. "I majored in Child Psychology, with a minor in Art. I've always believed that art can heal people and I wanted to use that to help kids."
"That's sweet," said Louisa. "What school do you work at?"
Jane accepted the drink that Charlie poured for her with an adoring smile before answering. "I work for the Boys and Girls Club."
Louisa's eyebrows shot up. "How - charitable," she said. Elijah caught the vague condescension in her tone and his hackles rose, but if Jane heard, she was too polite to react. "But with a degree like that," Louisa continued, spearing the olive at the bottom of her glass, "couldn't you find work in an academy or private school? That would surely pay better."
"Those kids already have people to help them," Jane said, shrugging. "I want to help the kids who really need someone, who don't have anyone else or don't have the means to try new things. Those are the kids who need art the most." Although the lady Bingleys didn't look overly impressed, Charlie was staring at Jane like she'd hung the moon, and Elijah hid his smile. The man was clearly a goner.
"What about you, Elijah was it?" Louisa said, turning her pale gaze on him and eyeing him up and down.
"I'm a writer," Elijah said, and he felt his spine straighten, a renewed sense of pride and satisfaction flooding through him as he said it. "A novelist, actually."
"Really?" Louisa asked. "Anything I'd know of?"
"Not yet, my first book is still in the publication process," he answered. The elder Bingley lifted one eyebrow, her expression slightly skeptical, but Elijah didn't bother to elaborate. He didn't need to impress her, which was a good thing since he got the idea she was one of those people who was never impressed.
"But next year, everyone's gonna know his name," Jane said, beaming proudly up at him.
Elijah fought back a flush that only got worse when Charlie leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "Yeah, congrats man," Charlie said. "That's so awesome. And you're in good hands; Darce is as good as it gets."
"Oh, your book's being published by Darcy's company?" Louisa asked, the other painted-on eyebrow jumping up to join the first. "Congratulations. That must be a great honor for a first-time author."
"I'm looking forward to it," Elijah said diplomatically. "I think we'll be able to make something really great of it."
"Honestly, Darce's editing skills are the only reason I made it through college," Charlie said with a laugh. "I'm absolutely terrible at writing. He edited all my papers for me, made them actually sound smart. If it weren't for him, my professors all would've kicked me to the curb."
Elijah chuckled. "Is that how you guys met? In college?"
"Yeah, at Cambridge," said Charlie. "I dunno why I thought it'd be a good idea to study abroad. I was the only American in my whole dormitory and I felt so lost. Never thought England would be as different as it is. I was having a hard time finding my way around and making friends." He paused to take a sip of his beer. "I got reamed by my PoliSci professor and I was like thirty seconds away from a complete nervous breakdown, and then boom! This posh Brit corners me outside the classroom and just, like, recites our entire PoliSci 101 textbook at me like a robot."
Elijah scoffed, surprised, and Charlie grinned. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Had no idea who this guy was but he just starts talking at me. It was enough to distract me from having a breakdown, and eventually, I realized he was trying to help, albeit in a weird way. So I invited him over for a beer and he became my tutor, and the next thing I knew, we're best friends."
"That's a helluva story," Elijah said.
"He tells it far more dramatically than it actually happened."
Elijah's heart dropped into his stomach as everyone turned to the voice. He should've seen it coming; they were best friends, after all. It was only natural. Still, nothing could've prepared Elijah for the shock of seeing William Darcy stepping through the open French doors. He was still dressed in the same clothes from earlier, hair slightly ruffled and glasses hanging on the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. His gaze danced across Elijah and the corner of his lips turned down ever so slightly.
Hiding his scowl behind his beer, Elijah fought the urge to groan; what did he have to do to get a break from the guy?
"Darce!" Charlie cheered excitedly, jumping up and rushing over to hug William. He could tell by the over-enthusiastic greeting and the flush in his cheeks that Charlie had already had more than a few beers. "You made it!"
"Sorry I'm late," William said, putting a steadying hand on Charlie's shoulder as he friend pulled back. "I had to finish a few things up at the office before I could leave."
Charlie made a dismissive noise as he went back to his seat at the table. "You work too much."
William smirked indulgently and filled the last empty chair at the table between Charlie and Elijah, determinedly keeping his eyes off the writer. He had guessed that Charlie would invite Jane out for the weekend, but he hadn't known that Elijah would be coming too. If so, William might've made some excuse not to join them. It wasn't as if he didn't have enough work to get done.
"Yes, well, not all of us can make a career of throwing parties," William said.
Charlie huffed and shoved his shoulder playfully. "Hey, I'm just playing to my strengths," he countered. "And I happen to be good at getting people together to have fun. You, meanwhile, are good at being smart and unfairly talented at all the artsy stuff that girls are impressed by."
William scoffed into his drink at the irony, but the sound was drowned out by a somewhat louder skeptical cough. "You have plenty of talents, Charlie," Louisa cut in dryly. "Just in things that are actually useful to society."
On the other side of the table, Elijah looked up with his brow furrowed. "Are you saying that the arts are not useful in society?" he asked. His tone was pleasant enough but that fiery spark had blossomed once again in his eyes. William's stomach flipped.
"Well sure, they have their place," Louisa said breezily, "but there are so many other skills that are more useful. Practicality, charisma, intelligence, business sense..."
Elijah's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, a sign William was beginning to recognize as the precursor to debate. "Those all serve well in the world of money, sure, but what about in the betterment of society? In making people's lives better?"
"And you think art does that better than financial security?" Louisa retorted, arching a painted-on eyebrow to convey what she thought of that idea.
"Haven't you ever looked at a painting and felt joy? Or read a book that took you on an adventure? Or heard a song that reminds you of falling in love?" Elijah countered. "Money is good for the material, but art is good for the soul."
"It's a good point," Charlie chipped in. "I mean, we all have a playlist we put on when we need a pick-me-up or a favorite comfort movie." When Louisa pulled a slightly disbelieving expression, Charlie interjected with, "Swan Princess." She flinched, clearly surprised, and closed her mouth with an audible click. William tried not to enjoy her look of humbled submission too much; he never had been fond of the elder Bingley in the way he was of the younger ones.
"And I mean, isn't this kind of the age of the artists?" Charlie continued. "The internet has been great for helping artists of all kinds reach the audiences they deserve. Like, how many singers start out on YouTube and wind up with recording contracts?"
"Or artists who can run their gallery online," Jane added with a shy smile. "I've got a painting in my room that I bought from an artist I follow on Tumblr."
"Or self-published authors," said Elijah. "They might not get the marketing and publicity that they would with an agent and editor, but they can still support themselves with a dedicated enough online following." William glanced across at him curiously, wondering if that was a path that Elijah had considered for his own novel. The thought of such a great book being lost among the piles of self-published rubbish online caused a physical ache.
"Exactly," Charlie agreed eagerly. "It's creating this free, open market for all of this artists, and it's getting the art out there for the people who really want it. Someone's web series might turn out to be the Swan Princess movie for someone else." Louisa shot an arch look at her brother for that comment, which Charlie tactfully ignored. "Seriously, though, it always amazes me just how much talent there is in the world."
William scoffed. "Don't you think that's a bit of a generalization? I mean, for every YouTube singer who gets a recording deal, there's a hundred more who never get further than recording videos in their parents' basement for a handful of subscribers. It's the same in all of the arts. These people may have some skill, but few of them have a true talent to succeed in their art."
"You must have high expectations for what you think is real talent, then," said Elijah.
"Well it's certainly more than just knowing the mechanics of the art," William went on, reveling in the intellectual challenge he'd provided. "After all, one can get a degree in art without having any artistic talent of their own. It's important to understand the foundations of the art, and it always helps to be versed in another art form. They do all reflect and affect each other in many ways, and more significant appreciation is built on having a broader understanding of the world.
"Most importantly, though, is the part that goes beyond the skill. It is, as you've said yourself, a rather difficult lifestyle to commit to your art. It takes a certain depth of character to achieve the proper drive and belief. That is what takes talent beyond the base mechanics, gives it something deeper and personal to bring the art to life. Determination or spirit or soul, whichever you'd like to call it. Without achieving all of those things, the work is merely a vain attempt at art; an empty echo of another's labors."
Elijah laughed, shaking his head. "Jesus, is there anyone who actually meets those standards?"
"You doubt there are artists who meet my criteria?" William asked. "Are you really so hard on your peers?"
"I can't speak for any peers, but I know I don't," said Elijah. "What you're looking for with that little checklist is perfection. That's unachievable in anything, but it definitely has no place in the arts. Art is a reflection of the human soul, and no human is perfect. Art is made to be imperfect."
William and Elijah stared each other down, and William found the heat and passion in the other man's eyes hypnotic. It brought a life to them that shot through William like an electric current, energizing him to his core. Warmth curled deep in his stomach and William was tempted to keep arguing just to keep that spark alive.
Charlie groaned dramatically. "I seriously need friends who are less eloquent. Darce is bad enough, but now you too," he grumbled, pointing accusingly at Elijah.
Elijah grinned and ducked his head. "Sorry, I'll tone it down," he said. "Lemme finish this beer and I promise, you'll feel like Shakespeare in comparison."
"From one beer?" Caroline asked.
Jane giggled. "He's a lightweight."
"So is Charlie," Caroline responded in a faux whisper. In retaliation, Charlie grabbed a grape from the food tray and threw it at her. The conversation faded into casual banter, and William sat back, sipping his beer and half-listening. His mind was filled with nothing but Elijah; just when he thought he could deal with his feelings, the other man would throw a curveball that completely knocked him off his guard. The sudden intensity of his affection was unlike anything he'd ever felt before, and he didn't know quite how to handle it.
"You alright, Darce?" Charlie asked, rousing William by setting a heavy hand on his shoulder.
"Fine, why do you ask?" William replied, putting on his best poker face.
"You just seem distracted, is all," Charlie said. "And even quieter than usual."
William's lips quirked at the tease. "Just thinking of all the work I need to get done this weekend," he said. "Speaking of which, I should turn in. I have a few reports to review and an early call in the morning."
"You're supposed to be on vacation," Charlie reminded him. "Relaxing. Enjoying yourself."
"I've taken on more work than usual," William said, shrugging. "The new office, and all."
"Alright, you spoilsport," Charlie said with a laugh. "But I expect you to try and enjoy yourself a little more tomorrow, alright?"
William chuckled. "Fair enough. Goodnight, everyone."
The others all responded with muttered farewells as he stood and made his way back into the house. Upstairs, he let himself into the guest bedroom he always occupied when staying with Charlie and closed the door behind him. He exhaled slowly, and in the safety of his room, finally allowed the tension to leave him as well. Keeping up a front, especially while spending so much time with Elijah around, was going to be more taxing than he'd expected.
It was going to be a long weekend.
