Author's Note: Hi readers, I really hope that you like my story so far. I would like some feedback, if you have any, or any comments that you have about my progress so far, so send me some reviews :) And Bibicu, thank you for reminding me about emails and letters. I honestly forgot. I hope this chapter solves the communication problem :)

Disclaimer: I am only borrowing some of Jane Austen's characters from her book Pride and Prejudice. The names, companies and organisations in this story are all completely fictional and made up. If they coincide with anything real, it was not intentionally done.

Chapter 3

Dear Will,

I graduated! I survived! Can you believe it? I actually did it! I'm so excited right now; I could sing from the rooftop and dance until morning. My, aren't I getting poetic in my old age.
Talking about dancing, we – Charlotte, Steve, Jane and I – went to a restaurant for dinner and then went clubbing to celebrate. And before you ask, no I did not drink anything alcoholic. Not that it's against the law, since I've over 18 now. I have been for years, in case you've forgotten. But I digress. You would not belieeeeeve what happened. My blood boils just thinking about it.

Will sat up from his half-slouching, half-lying position on the couch in his penthouse suite. His back tensed up as he read the last sentence, imagining a dozen worst case scenarios ranging from Becca being beaten up to Becca dying in a car accident. But then, that was hardly rational thinking, because she was the one writing the email. On the other hand, who said he was rational?

No, Will, keep your pants on, no one died, and yes, Will, I am perfectly fine. Not hurt at all.

He felt a hot flush creeping up his neck and onto his face as he thought back at his unreasonable thoughts. Although there was no one with him at the moment to witness his overreaction, he was still a little embarrassed at how quickly he jumped to the worst conclusions. He relaxed again, chuckling at how well Becca knew him, even though it had been five years since he had actually seen her face to face. By exchanging emails around once a week or so, they had been able to maintain contact with each other and each had kept the other updated on the happenings of their lives.

Actually, maybe my ego is a bit bruised…
Long story short, we met a couple of guys tonight. I couldn't really make out their exact looks because it was quite dark, but I think that they were quite good looking. One of them asked Jane to dance, the other just sat there, kind of like a wooden pole. He probably had one shoved so far up his ass that it came out as his face. But that's not the point. Mr Wooden Pole had the gall to insult me. To my face! Okay, I admit, I wasn't supposed to be eavesdropping, but I wasn't doing it on purpose! I promise! But the nerve of the guy! We hadn't even spoken two words to each other and he was bitching about me behind my back! Calling me all sorts of things! He called me ugly! Not that I think that I'm particularly pretty (no, I'm not fishing for a compliment here, it's the truth and you know it), but a girl sure doesn't need to be told that she's ugly!
Insufferable, rude, arrogant, unbearably irritating conceited ass!
Sorry about my rambling. I needed to get that out of my system. Now that I've vented all my anger out on you (thanks!), how has your week been so far? How is Anna getting along? Tell her hi and wish her a happy birthday for me! Wow, she's nine years old now. The last time I saw her, she was still toddling around, about knee height. She must be all grown up now, huh? Do you think she still remembers me? How have you been with your parenting skills? I'm just an email away if you need any help. Not that I know the first thing to raising children… I'll ask my aunt Maddy and tell you whatever she tells me.

Well, I think you've just about had enough of your weekly dose of Becca News. I'm going to go to sleep now. It must be sometime in the afternoon in England, isn't it? Ugh, I'm so bad at this time difference thing. You'd think that I'd have mastered it from writing to you for all these years, but no. Reply soon :)

Love,
– Rebecca

William Darcy chuckled softly as he read Becca's latest email. He had taken to calling her Becca in the last couple of years because she had told him that Becky was too childish for someone at the late end of her teens. Her email contained the usual dose of Becca exuberance. Darcy briefly felt sorry for the poor sod who had gotten on the wrong side of her temper this time. He briefly wondered what she had done to him in response. He was probably sliced into decorative star shapes and boiled up in soup by her sharp tongue and hot temper before he even knew he was on the menu. He made a mental note to tell Becca that he was in Australia now for a business trip. Maybe they could catch up some time. He missed having her around to talk to face to face.

He thought back to his own night out. It was a disaster. He had only landed in Australia the day before, and so along with the drastic change in temperature, he was also suffering from the effects of jetlag. Not only that, but as soon as he was out of the plane in the afternoon, he had to make a conference call with his CFO back in England because of an issue that had popped up in the fifteen or so hours that he had been out of his office. He then could not get to sleep due to the time difference, so when Charles had all but bounced into his suite with a smile that could light up a black hole, he was understandably irritated. His mood was further darkened when Charles dragged him kicking and screaming (not literally as he did have his dignity to preserve), out to the closest nightclub he could find.

He was certain that the girl, what was her name again? Oh, right, Beck, had overheard him talking to Charles. That was, if the drink that she dumped down his – damned expensive – Armani suit was an indication. She had not looked too surprised when she had stumbled, and when she got up to "fetch some towels", she had looked much too pleased with herself, not at all the face of mortified contrition that people usually wore when they trip and spill their drink on someone else. Not that he had a lot of experience in that department.

Will sighed. He hadn't meant to insult her. Certainly not within her hearing range. But, he tried to reason with himself, it was really quite rude of her to be eavesdropping. But it was even more bad-mannered of you to be insulting someone behind their back like a common gossip! He sighed again. He could not escape his conscience. He could picture Becca, if she knew what he had done, standing with her hands on her hips, a scowl of indignation for the girl on her face, pointing her finger and bringing the wrath of hell onto his head for his boorish behaviour. Should he tell her of his bad behaviour? No. He wouldn't tell her, so he could avoid her anger. A mad Becca was a force to be reckoned with. Nope, he was not stupid to bring that onto himself. After all, he wasn't stupid. He opened a new window and typed up his reply.

Dear Becca,
Congratulations! How did your speech go? I trust you did not fall on your face while walking up and down the stairs to the stage? See, your fears of making a fool out of yourself were entirely groundless.
I hope your night wasn't too bad. The guy sounds like a jerk. How could anyone think that you're anything less than beautiful? If I could, I would go over there right now, and pummel his face in. If won't help much, but it'll feel pretty good. I think. I hope you exacted your revenge. But you didn't do something too dreadful, did you? I'd hate to be getting an email you send from a police holding cell or something. Do they let you email people in holding cells in Australia? I'm pretty sure they don't back in England.
My week has been pretty boring up to this point. I have been on conference call after conference call. The company's been really busy this week. I have had so many meetings that I have practically been living in my office. I know, it's not very healthy, but it'll get better. In fact, it already has. I didn't get the chance to tell you in my last email, but I have a surprise for you! I hope it'll be a nice surprise.
I'M COMING TO AUSTRALIA! Well, actually I am in Australia at the moment, Melbourne in fact. My plane landed this morning and one of my colleagues dragged me kicking and screaming to a club – of all places! As soon as I arrived! I tell you, if he wasn't such a great friend, I would have fired him for this. Not my idea of fun after a long and tiring flight. I would have rather stayed at my hotel and gone to sleep. But then, I guess that wouldn't have helped with my jetlag. He insisted that I have some fun and socialise with the locals. I did not have fun. At least we have this in common, Becca. We both had a terrible night. I had to sit in a crowded, smoggy space twiddling my thumbs while my friend hit on a girl and looked like he was having the time of his life. It was dreadful, not to mention awkward.
Anna is wonderful. I'm not really sure if she remembers you or not, because I tell her everything that you write in these emails anyway. Or a censored version. Can't have my baby sister learn all your colourful insults while she's nine, can I? So she knows you pretty well. I will pass on your greetings to her the next time that I see her. She is up to about halfway up my chest now. She's growing up so quickly. I'm so proud of her. I hope that you can meet her again someday. Maybe I'll come back again when she's on holiday.
Do you want to get together sometime, since I'm in the area? You haven't moved out of Melbourne, have you? I hope now, because this would be a lot harder if we're at opposite ends of the same country. I missed Australia. I'm glad to be back. Here is my phone number –-. Call me any time you're free and we could work out something. I can't wait to see you.
Love,
– William

Will looked over the email again, looking for any mistakes, or anything that didn't make sense before he sent it. He felt excitement and anticipation well up inside of him at the thought of finally seeing Becca again. He couldn't wait for her reply or her call. He stared at his email, as if silently using his mind powers to will Becca into replying instantly. This, of course, did not work. No, it only made him feel stupid and foolish.

He sighed, got up and finally went to bed after a quick hot shower. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, dreaming about his petite friend and the girl who poured her drink all over him earlier. Maybe he should apologise…?

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