Thanks for all the reviews, guys! I'm rewarding everyone with an fast update (well, faster than my other chapters =] ) Hope you all enjoy this chapter ~ here's the long-awaited confrontation! Get ready, because Darcy's going to cop an earful.
Once again, a big thank you to my awesome beta, Illusiional Ice. Without her, half of the story wouldn't make sense...
Soundtrack: Apologize – Timbaland (perfect for this chapter!)
Fitzwilliam Darcy was used to the limelight.
He had been the high school basketball captain, which meant that he was the highest profile guy in the school. He had been the number one hottie in his university. He had also been the star student in his university, graduating with a shower of achievements and merits. He had loved the attention; he had loved being looked up to.
But he had also hated being harassed.
However, being one of the most influential men in business meant that he was almost continuously harassed.
"Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy! Mr Darcy!"
Crowds of people and cameras had gathered, all wanting to hear from him. And he was sick of it. He didn't want to answer the same question ten thousand times. He didn't want to continue smiling – or at least consistently keep putting on a straight face. He didn't want to be spat at, or tailed, or fawned over so excessively. All he could think of was "Fuck. Off."
Still, he answered the questions without grimacing. He nonchalantly wiped of little bits of spit from his Giorgio Armani suit. And he walked quickly, at the speed of a jog. If he was an Olympic marathon walker, he could have probably won the gold.
"Angelina." he said, motioning for his personal secretary to come forward, "How much longer must I do this?"
"It's only been four minutes, Mr Darcy. I think another ten minutes? Don't worry, you're doing great."
Darcy rolled his eyes. He liked Angelina; she was efficient, quick thinking, and pretty. But sometimes he couldn't stand her perkiness. She smiled far too much, and always seemed so optimistic. Yes, her support did help Darcy to make it through the long interviews and press conferences. But it always bordered on being downright annoying.
"Well, I'm not doing it out here. Inside the building will be better."
And he started walking again, still talking with the desperate journalists trying to get something new out of him. Darcy knew they were being paid for what he said, and that's what irked him. They would sell any piece of information. Even if it was strictly personal and none of their business, they would sell it. Because then the journalist would be on a fast track to fame – just because they found out some juicy tidbit about some celebrity's personal life.
"Mr Darcy! Which presidential candidate do you support?"
That question surprised him. He turned around, looking frantically for Angelina. She would have the right answer for sure.
"Uhh…Barrack Obama!" he said, reading correctly Angelina's lip movements.
He grinned. He'd dodged an unforeseen question – with the help of his secretary, of course. But he wasn't smiling for much longer when he walked straight into a lady.
Suddenly, the ground whooshed up to meet him. His head buried itself into a nest of brown hair. He didn't want to know where his hands were.
God, he was at his wit's end already. This just pushed him over the edge. He could feel the looks from the journalists, and their calculating gazes. How much would this sell for?
"Watch it, lady." he growled.
And he quickly stood up, and brushed off the little bits of dirt that now clung onto his suit. Oh dear, he was going to hear about this from his housekeeper, Mrs Reynolds. She had specifically told him not to ruin this suit, which had apparently belonged to his father.
Darcy looked back at the lady he had fallen on. She was staring at him, still on the floor. What was her problem? Oh, he knew. She was swooning over the fact that Fitzwilliam Darcy had just run into her. Great. Was she going to think that he owed her a favour because he had fallen on top of her or that he was in love with her now? Good luck with that.
He glared at her. She had just made his bad day even worse.
And now the journalists were rushing in, enclosing him and the lady. What were they going to fabricate this time?
He darted another look at the lady. And something caught his eye, before he looked away. Hazel eyes. They looked familiar. Why though, why?
He looked again. Great, did the journalists catch that? Did they think there was going to be love at first sight, and a budding romance? But he pushed those thoughts away, when he noticed the brown hair, determined chin, and heart shaped face. Something in his brain clicked, and a thousand thoughts rushed through his mind. His heart thudded painfully. It couldn't be, could it?
"Mr Darcy! Are you alright?" asked Angelina.
"Goodness sake, how come no one warned me about this person here?" he muttered angrily.
"We didn't see her. I'm sorry, sir! It won't happen again."
"Let's just get this over with, Angelina."
Darcy glanced again at the lady, who had stood up now. He made his face as impassive as possible; he didn't want to give those all too watchful journalists any hint of recognition. They were wolves. Obviously she was thinking the same thing.
"I'm sorry, Chief. I didn't mean to knock into you. How foolish of me." she said.
Darcy felt his cheeks fill with heat, and blushed scarlet. Was it shame? Technically he had walked into her, and here she was apologizing to him. Embarrassment also crept in when she smiled nonchalantly, and walked away with grace. Did she know it was him? If she did, how was she taking this in?
"Mr Darcy! Do you know that woman?"
Darcy returned his concentration to the task at hand. Six more minutes. He could get through this. And then he would have to find a way to apologise for that incident, as well as everything else. Why did he always make things worse?
"Mr Darcy?"
"No, I do not," he said at last. "She must be a new employee here."
"Mr Darcy! Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, thank you." Darcy muttered, feeling annoyed once more.
Five more minutes.
It was a bad idea to go into the building after all. Now all the questions reverberated noisily, making Darcy think that he would be trapped in a maelstrom of never ending questions.
Three minutes.
Seriously, was time going slower just to torture him? He could swear it was. The second hand of his watch seemed to be lagging. He tapped at it, before sighing. This had to pass quickly, because he had to think.
Elizabeth. What was he going to do after this was over? He needed to think of some way to approach her and tell her. He had to formulate a plan. If it had been anyone else doing so, he would have laughed at them. Formulate a plan to say something to an ex-girlfriend? What the heck? But he was far from laughing now.
"Mr Darcy! Will there be further trips to Europe in the near future?"
Yes! Angelina was giving him a discreet thumbs up, meaning it was the last question.
"Not for a year. However, if the need arises, I will be going."
Darcy smiled, though he knew it looked more like a grimace. It was over. That must have been one of the hardest question and answer gig he had ever done.
He looked at the departing journalists and cameramen without a single sign of discontent on his face. He was tired, he was annoyed, and now he felt the beginnings of dread stir. What was he going to do with Lizzie?
"Mr Darcy, that was just fine. You handled the run-in with that lady well. No scandal!"
Darcy raised his eyebrows and gazed at Angelina tiredly. He didn't do anything. She did. She had brushed off the journalists with two sentences, and that was something not everyone could do, especially since the journalists were ready to milk the incident for all – and more – than it was worth.
"Angelina, go get yourself some coffee or something."
Angelina looked confused for a split second, then immediately brightened again and nearly skipped off to the coffee shop. Darcy watched her walk, amazed at how she could seem so very happy and jovial. She seemed so young compared to him, though there was probably only two or three years difference.
"I feel like a grandpa." muttered Darcy to himself.
"Mr Darcy! Welcome back!" greeted Claudia from the front desk.
Darcy suppressed a groan, and walked up to the desk.
"Morning, Miss Lewis. How are you today?" he asked politely.
"Just fine and dandy, Mr Darcy. I suppose you want a report on how we were going in your absence?"
"No thank you," replied Darcy hastily, "I'd rather not know what Larry has been doing while I was away."
Claudia laughed prettily, and nearly fluttered her eyelashes.
"Don't worry, Mr Darcy, your office is in good order. I made sure of that for you."
It was rather disconcerting to know that Larry had been using his office. But Darcy had allowed it, albeit half heartedly.
"Thanks, Miss Lewis. I'm glad to be back." Not that he really was.
"Sure thing, Mr Darcy! We're glad to have you back."
Darcy smiled in answer, and walked towards the elevators. Now he was going to concentrate, and think about how he was going to apologise to Lizzie Bennet for the incident that morning, and everything else before.
Simple? No.
The truth was that Darcy didn't know where to begin. Was he supposed to comment on how nice she looked, how the weather was, enquire about her family, and then get to the point? No, he wasn't like Larry. He wasn't going to say "Hey babe, you look gorgeous. Oh yeah, it's such a nice day." And then drop everything down like a ton of bricks.
He used to do that, but now he had changed. He was a gentleman. Or, at least, he was meant to be. He didn't feel like a gentleman then, though.
Darcy drummed his fingers on the sides of the elevator. How was Lizzie going to react? He'd wondered much on what would happen. He'd known that it would be a challenge, after the way they parted. What would she do, if they not only saw each other again, but had to work together?
Other girls Darcy could predict. They would cry, weep, sob, and then nag. Why? Why? Why?! That's what they would ask. Darcy could handle those. With presents, a kiss, and a declaration of undying love they would be won over. And then he would slowly alienate them, using work as a shield. And then the problem would be gone.
But Lizzie was unpredictable. Would she cry? Would she simply walk out without a word? Or would she yell at him? The last possibility seemed most likely. But he wasn't sure.
Darcy leaned his head against the elevator walls. He had been such a jerk. He couldn't forget what he had done. No matter how much he had wanted to, he couldn't. Darcy pressed his hand over his eyes.
"Hey Darcy! Looking for Lizzie, right?"
Darcy looked surprised when Lydia answered the door, wearing a very short mini skirt and a tank top. Usually it was Lizzie, who bounded out of the door to give Darcy a hug. Darcy wondered whether something had happened.
"Uhh…yeah. She's at home, right?" he asked tentatively.
Lydia raised her eyebrows, as if wondering why he was asking.
"Yeah, she's at home. Why wouldn't she be?"
Darcy shrugged, and followed Lydia into the Bennet's home. He was probably just overacting. Nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. Lizzie was just in her room, perhaps doing some homework or working on her English essay.
Lizzie's door was closed when Darcy reached it. That, once again, was slightly strange. Lizzie never closed her door. But Darcy pushed away the thought. Why was he overreacting so much? He hadn't done something wrong. But, for some reason, his heart thudded erratically as if something was going to happen.
"Lizzie?" Darcy said, opening the door.
Something whizzed past Darcy's head, making him cry out in surprise. He heard a chuckle, and spun around to see Lizzie sitting on her bed, throwing darts at the dartboard. She looked extremely amused.
"What the heck?"
Lizzie lifted her eyebrows and then continued to throw darts.
"Lizzie, are you alright?" asked Darcy. Something wasn't right after all.
"I'm fine." replied Lizzie abruptly, not looking at him.
Darcy wondered what had happened. Had he done something wrong? He walked hesitantly towards Lizzie, and sat down next to her. She stopped throwing darts, and turned to smile at him. Then she started throwing darts again. Darcy looked confused. Normally she would have thrown her arms around him. Normally she would have started chatting animatedly about her day, or something else. But she wasn't today.
"Did I do something wrong?"
"No, you didn't." smiled Lizzie.
She stopped throwing darts once more, and turned to hug him. Darcy relaxed. Perhaps it was just a girl thing. She seemed to be over it now.
"I love you, Darcy." Lizzie whispered.
Hearing her say it always made him feel warm and excited. But for some reason, it sounded strangely mocking this time. Darcy tried to ignore the feeling. Lizzie loved him. He loved her. Those were almost the facts of life. Still, the feeling refused to subside. Something was wrong, and he needed to find out.
"Lizzie, something's wrong. What is it?"
Lizzie looked confused, and Darcy suddenly felt like an idiot. He was overreacting. Why, though? Tension was hanging in the air, but it seemed like only he could feel it. Lizzie cocked her head to the right, and smiled, as if trying to figure something out. Lizzie's smile seemed not so friendly all of a sudden. But that wasn't right. That couldn't be right.
"Darcy, nothing's wrong! Why are you so tense?" asked Lizzie innocently.
It was just an overreaction after all. Darcy relaxed and smiled back. He hugged Lizzie back, and then pressed his lips onto hers. Darcy felt Lizzie's finger twine into his hair as they always did, and kissed her deeper. He touched Lizzie's face, stroking her soft cheeks.
She broke the kiss.
"Darcy, I love you." she whispered once more.
"I know." he replied smugly, "I love you too."
Lizzie paused. Then she whispered directly into his ear, "I want to spend my whole life with you. I want to love you until the day I die. I want to marry you, and have children, and still love you when we are old and grey and wrinkly."
The words were direct and confronting. Darcy was speechless. Lizzie had never said that before. It was almost scary, the way it demanded devotion and care and eternal loving. Darcy knew he wasn't ready for "forever." But he needed to reply, he needed to say something. Right now, he was looking like an idiot with his mouth open.
"Lizzie, I will love you forever." he replied, but he didn't look at her.
"You will love me, and only me, forever?" asked Lizzie.
"Yes."
"You won't look at another girl?"
There was a long pause. Darcy looked at Lizzie, wondering whether she knew. But she was waiting for an answer. He had to reply. And his tongue betrayed him.
"Yes."
Lizzie stiffened immediately, and shoved Darcy off the bed. Darcy knew then that she knew and he didn't know what to do. Her eyes were flashing with anger, and her fists were clenched. She looked pretty damn mad.
"Liar." she hissed.
"Lizzie, don't take it that way…I love you…"
"Why do you love me, Darcy?"
The question struck Darcy off guard.
"Lizzie, who wouldn't?" he said pathetically.
"Answer me!"
"You're pretty, and beautiful. And basketball captains and cheerleaders are supposed to be together…"
They stared at each other in horror for a whole minute.
"I trusted you, Darcy. You said I could trust you. You said that you would never hurt me. You said that you would never look at another girl, because you had me." Lizzie whispered.
Darcy tried to think of something. But nothing came to mind. A kind of fear paralysed him, and all he could do was look at her hopelessly.
Then Lizzie smiled.
She smiled.
"Darcy, we're over."
And Darcy gawked at her, trying to grasp the words. She said it with such control. It was almost cold. Only her eyes gave her away.
Darcy looked at her helplessly, and then nodded and walked out of the door and out of her life.
He never knew how much he had hurt her until Jane called him two days later, cursing him for destroying her sister's life. She'd been crying for two days straight, and counting. He had been shocked that Jane had it in her to yell at him.
And then his father told him they were moving to California. Normally he would have complained, but he had agreed to it half heartedly even though it was in the middle of his last year in high school. So, a month afterward, he was out of her life for good.
Or so he thought.
Darcy had seen her application for solicitor at the company with mixed emotions. He had considered simply discounting her application, so he would not need to face her again. He had told himself it was better that way for both of them. But then, as he held the application above the bin, he'd remembered her horror-struck face, and her pain filled eyes. Maybe this was a chance to make it right.
Fate had given him a chance to apologise. That's what he told himself, anyway.
But now he wasn't so sure it was a good idea.
He sighed loudly and covered his mouth with his hands. Think, he told himself, think. There must be some way to do this. Some way that won't end up with Lizzie yelling at him. But then again, he could handle a yelling Lizzie. He deserved a good yelling. He didn't think he could handle a silent, stone-like Lizzie anyways.
The door creaked open, and Darcy waited for the person to announce himself or herself. Would it be Lizzie, coming here to yell at him?
"Mr Darcy, I'm back! And I've brought you a caramel latte."
Darcy bowed his head in amusement, and cleared his throat.
"Thank you, Angelina. I think I'll need it."
Angelina smiled, and placed the coffee on his table triumphantly. Then she glanced at him sideways, a curious look in her eyes.
"What is it, Angelina? Did I forget to shave?" he asked.
"No, sir!" she replied quickly, "You look marvellous, just like you always do, Mr Darcy!"
She was like a little rabbit. Always bouncing, always jovial. Darcy would have been annoyed on any other day, but today he needed a little distraction, and Angelina was perfect for that.
"Angelina, is there anything important that I must do?"
"Nope, I don't think so, Mr Darcy."
"Okay, thank you."
With another smile, Angelina walked towards the door, only to say "Oh!" and rush back.
"Mr Wickham's coming, Mr Darcy!" she said quickly.
Darcy stood up. Larry often came to his office for trivial reasons, which Darcy allowed. It usually was Larry talking about some girl, and Darcy nodding without actually listening. As long as Larry didn't progress to annoying Darcy while he was doing work, it was fine.
But perhaps this time was different.
"Darcy, my old buddy, it's good to see you back!"
Larry walked into the office with a huge smile on his face and his arms outstretched. Darcy dodged the hug with ease.
"What, not even going to give your old bud a hug?" Larry asked, mock hurt.
"Larry, what are you here for?"
Darcy needed to know what he was going to say.
"Direct as ever, I see. Ladies so do not dig that, Darcy. Isn't that right, Angelina?"
Angelina blushed furiously.
"Larry, I'd appreciate it if you were less silly. Angelina, you can go now."
Larry watched Angelina go.
"Phew, she's hot. I mean, look at those legs. Darcy, lighten up, and go bed your secretary."
Darcy, who was drinking his coffee, spluttered.
"What?! This is a workplace, Larry, not some kind of bar."
"I'm kidding, Darce. But you need to lighten up." laughed Larry.
"No, you need to dampen down. I'll have to demote you once again if you continue like this."
"You wouldn't, Darce!" whispered Larry in mock horror.
"Try me."
"I'd rather not." winked Larry.
Darcy glared at him, then sat down and rubbed his eyes.
"What is it, Larry?"
"Impatient, are we? Okay, okay. I had a little tête-à-tête with Miss Lizzie Bennet just then."
Darcy stared at Larry, who had seated himself casually in the chair in front of the desk. A thousand possibilities sprung into mind. What had Larry done?
"Larry, please tell me you didn't tell her."
"Tell what?" asked Larry innocently.
"That I hired her on purpose!"
"Oh that? Of course not!"
Darcy snorted in disbelief. The day Larry kept secrets was the day of the apocalypse.
"Yes, I told her." Larry admitted sheepishly.
Darcy groaned. He knew that he shouldn't have told Larry. But he had needed someone he could trust to "hire" her, and Larry was it. Even though he couldn't keep a secret.
"It slipped out, alright! I didn't mean to do so."
"Never mind. I should have known better than to let you keep a secret."
"That hurts Darcy, that does."
"Whatever, Larry." he said in disgust.
Darcy stood up, and looked out into the city. He wasn't in the mood to deal with Larry's irrationality right now.
"I can see that I'm not wanted here, so I suppose I'll be going."
Darcy spun around quickly, and glared at Larry.
"Oh look, now you turn around." said Larry smugly.
"Larry, please?"
Darcy had to admit, he was used to getting his way; as CEO of a multi-billion dollar company he had a lot of leverage. But now he was pleading – with Larry, of all people! But this was important to him. Darcy really wanted to know how Lizzie had responded. He was almost desperate – but desperation wasn't a pretty sight in a man, so he kept it in check. Barely.
"She said that you were a bastard to begin with. And then she said that working with you sucks like hell, and that it's horribly wrong. She thinks you don't deserve a second chance. But don't worry! Lizzie promised her sister to give you a second chance, so I don't think she's going to quit…at least not immediately."
Darcy groaned again and cradled his head. It was just as bad as he had thought.
"Oh yeah, she says she can't trust you, ever again."
Larry watched Darcy slump onto his desk. He had never seen Darcy look so beaten.
"Come on, Darcy! It's not that bad. Well, it is pretty bad. Seriously, what did you do to that girl?"
Darcy looked at Larry with glazed eyes.
"I'll cut it short. She gave me her heart. I trampled it to little bitty pieces. And then I left her. Happy?"
Larry whistled, "And I thought I was the heartbreaker. Darce, you've got to learn how to manage break-ups properly."
Darcy glared at Larry again, and sat up straight.
"This was nine years ago as you know very well. I've learnt. You bet I've learnt."
"Whoa. I'm not judging you or anything. I think I've had too much heavy conversation today. I'll be going."
Darcy watched incredulously as Larry simply walked out of the office, waving his hand dramatically. They had such a strange friendship. But that wasn't important now, compared to what he had just heard.
So, Lizzie basically hated him. He had hoped – well, wished – that she had somehow gotten over it and got herself into other relationships that ended even worse than theirs. Apparently that was not the case. So now it looked like he would have to throw himself down onto the floor and plead for forgiveness. And even then she would probably not accept his apologies. Still, wasn't it worth a shot? It had a fail factor of about 75%, but surely he could try?
No. He definitely wouldn't do plead for forgiveness. He knew that much about himself. Quite simply, his pride would not let him do it.
Darcy looked out at the city again. He remembered his first day as CEO, and the sense of vertigo he had received just looking down. He hadn't been scared though, just exhilarated. He had felt he was on top of the world. What wonders could he achieve? What marks could he leave behind?
But now it was just a view of the city.
He watched the buses, cars and people mill below him, and tried to lose himself to the ebb and flow of the city. There was no point reflecting on what he'd found out. He knew already, in a sense. He had known ever since she had broken up with him. He deserved every bit of her scorn, every ounce of her dislike. But he wished that he could win her back. Not necessarily as lovers once more, but as friends. He felt he had to try, even though it was probably a road to failure.
Darcy heard his office door open once more. Was it Larry again? Was it Angelina? Was it Lizzie? Had she come to confront him? He closed his eyes, willing himself to turn around.
"Do I look that scary?" asked an all too familiar voice.
Lizzie's voice sounded amused. But Darcy wasn't ready to turn around, nor speak. He knew that silence was stretching awkwardly between them, but he couldn't bring himself to begin talking about all the things that he wanted to.
"How are you, Lizzie?" he managed at last.
He was mildly pleased. His voice hadn't shaken, and he had said her name without choking, or some other absurd reaction. Maybe he could get through this after all.
"Oh, not bad. Someone fell on me, I found out my job was a set up, I'm talking to a bastard I never hoped to see in this life again – but I'm fine. Totally fine. Never been better."
Lizzie's voice sounded pleasant, but the words immediately dissolved Darcy's hope of getting through it all without problems. It flung his confidence into reverse. And he was just getting ready to turn around and face her like a man!
He gulped. No, he wasn't going to give up so easily. He was going to try again.
"How's your family, Lizzie?" he asked, in the same forced voice.
There was a long pause. He wondered what Lizzie was doing. Was she still there?
"Don't call me Lizzie, Mr Darcy. I'm not your girlfriend anymore."
So it had finally started. Darcy almost breathed a sigh of relief, but he knew it would come across her the wrong way. He finally turned around. He looked at her staring impassively at the windows. She was paler than when he had run into her in the morning, but asides from that there was nothing to suggest that she was distressed.
"I know, Miss Bennet. But I want us to be friends."
Lizzie's hazel eyes locked onto his, and he felt himself stiffen like as if he had been struck by lightning. Darcy felt like he was falling, just like he always did when he used to look into her eyes nine years ago. He looked deep into them, gazing at how they changed from green to brown, and brown to green. Right now, there were some flecks of gold that sparkled brilliantly in her eyes. He tried to stop staring into them, but couldn't. He finally managed to look away.
"I can't be friends with people I can't trust, people that break promises, and people who don't care for another person's feelings. Mr Darcy, we can't be friends."
"Liz-Miss Bennet, I've changed. I'm not the person I was before."
Lizzie smiled humourlessly.
"No, you're not the person you were before. You're even less than the person you were before."
Darcy sat down at his desk, and stared at his hands. He had to change tactics, it seemed.
"L-Miss Bennet, I'm sorry for knocking into you before. I'm sorry for not saying sorry. I was in a bad mood, but that's no excuse. I was incredibly rude." he said quietly, hoping she would hear him clearly.
"You say 'that's no excuse,' yet you provide an excuse. Mr Darcy, I will not humour you. Everything you did was a stroke against yourself. Nothing you do now will erase them. So don't even try."
"Lizzie-"
"Miss Bennet!" interrupted Lizzie.
"Miss Bennet, I'm not trying to erase them. But I want to restart our…acquaintance. Surely we can be acquaintances? I can't ask for more than that."
Lizzie pursed her lips. Darcy looked at her expectantly, waiting for an answer.
"Why did you employ me?" she hissed.
Darcy's mouth opened, and then closed. He should have known she would ask. Damn Larry, for telling her!
"Selfish reasons, Miss Bennet. I wanted a chance to correct the wrongs of the past. I wanted to make it up to you. I felt – I felt sorry for you."
Lizzie's eyes locked onto his again, and he knew he had said something wrong. What was it? He stood up, ready to apologize for whatever he had said wrong.
"You felt sorry for me. Sorry?! No, Mr Darcy, I should feel sorry for you. You have no heart. You've convinced me of that. I can't believe I didn't see it earlier. But I'll allow myself an excuse. I was young, and naïve. But no more. Mr Darcy, I'm going to walk out, just like you walked out on me nine years ago. And maybe we'll stay out of each other's lives for the next nine years, preferably for the rest of our lives."
Lizzie turned to walk away. Darcy moved instinctively to her, knowing that he had to do something. He couldn't allow Lizzie to walk away like he had done before. He had to apologize. He had to. But it was the wrong thing to do. Lizzie saw him reaching for her, and didn't hesitate.
SLAP!
The sound echoed discordantly through the large office. Darcy clutched his cheek in shock. He looked at Lizzie standing in front of him, her eyes blazing and her chest heaving. She slowly put down the hand she had just imprinted on Darcy's cheek.
"I'm only your employee, Mr Darcy. So don't treat me as anyone more."
And she walked out, leaving Darcy listening to the clip-clop of her high heel shoes.
It took several minutes before Darcy regained enough sense to lower his hand from his face and walk slowly to his desk. He sat down with a groan and stared straight ahead at the painting of flowers in spring at the other end of the office. What was he going to do now?
The phone rang.
Darcy stared at it, wondering if he should just ignore it. His voice would probably shake uncontrollably if he picked it up. But he did it anyway, with a sigh.
"Fitzwilliam Darcy, Chief Executive Officer of Perigee Delta speaking." he muttered dully.
"Whoa Darcy, you sound dead. I take it your little meeting with Lizzie didn't go so well?"
"Larry, did you tell her to go up and meet me?" hissed Darcy.
"Yeah. I thought you needed it. Badly. But maybe it was a mistake…"
"Goddamn it Larry, of course it was a mistake!" yelled Darcy angrily.
"Hey, calm down! What happened anyway?"
"She didn't yell at me. But she slapped me. Really hard."
Darcy touched his stinging cheek with a grimace. If he was unlucky, he was going to have a big purple bruise soon.
"I shouldn't be saying this but…you deserved it, Darce."
"Thanks, Larry." said Darcy dryly, "Know what? Fuck. Off."
And he slammed the phone down. Well, at least he got those words off his chest.
A quicker update - are you proud? They're going to be slightly slower for a while, because of ... life.
Anyway, look forward to a Lizzie and Jane reunion, a girl's shopping outing - and, of course, the Thanksgiving Ball!