Hello again friends! Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they mean so much to me—especially as it was my very first post ever—and really encouraged me to finish this chapter! I originally aimed to post this much earlier but ended up struggling quite a bit with this section (I am writing it as I go, with only a vague outline in mind, perhaps that is a problem, but I am enjoying the excitement and uncertainty of it thus far!) Constructive criticism/feedback is welcome, of course!
Thank you & enjoy!
Chapter Two
Darcy awoke with a start on Sunday morning. Rolling over in bed he grabbed his watch off the bedside table and read the time. 7:04. He'd slept an hour and a half later than he'd meant to. Cursing he rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, trying to place the source of the uneasy feeling resting low in stomach, as if waiting for the perfect time to rise and become a full-blown panic attack. Confused and slightly frustrated, Darcy swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. He didn't have anything particularly strenuous lined up for the day. In fact he barely had anything lined up at all. He'd get to the gym as soon as he could, work out for a few hours and then meet a potential investor for lunch. Maggie had sent him the details last night, he'd just have to look over them again to confirm the restaurant and the time. And then the dreaded dinner tonight at seven. Although meeting Bingley's latest woman was almost always entirely unpleasant, it was never a cause for anxiety and Darcy again puzzled at the unease he was feeling, discrete yet definitely present, as the warm spray of his shower massaged his neck and back. It was if his body was attempting to warn him of an impending danger his mind was yet unaware of.
Elizabeth stretched languorously in bed. She'd woken up forty-five minutes early, yet she felt completely well-rested and suspiciously content. Remembrance washed over her as she recalled her conversation with Paul and Nancy yesterday. A partnership! It still seemed like a dream—like it couldn't possibly be true—but it was, Elizabeth knew, as she remembered it with the precision and weight that only real life could be remembered with.
Pushing her brightly coloured duvet aside—another gift from her going away party—Elizabeth stood, feeling decidedly optimistic. After a quick jog around central park she would make herself a proper breakfast, the kind she rarely had time for anymore, and then head off to the restaurant for a couple of hours before returning to her apartment to get ready for dinner with Jane, Charles and Charles' mystery friend. It would be nice to get dressed up for once in something other than her habitual t-shirt and jeans. Who knew, maybe she'd even enjoy dinner. Jane spoke so highly of Charles, and even though her older sister had a tendency to refuse to see anything but the very best in people, she certainly wasn't stupid. She was a psychologist after all, and even though Elizabeth still held reservations about rich, wall-street, entrepreneurial types, she had a hard time believing that Jane could be so blindsided as to mistake an arrogant and selfish bastard with the Charles she described.
Two hours, one long run, a proper breakfast and hot shower later, Elizabeth arrived at The Acorn. She greeted Matt, a young college student who worked part time as a chef and who was currently busy washing mushrooms in the restaurants big, industrial sink.
"Hey Lizzy B! As you can see I've got everything under control!"
He grinned, intimately acquainted with Elizabeth's micro-managing propensities that were a product of her intense commitment to a smoothly running restaurant.
Matt was second in command, after herself, and showed lots of promise as a chef, although, like most college students was still unsure what it was he wanted to do with his life.
Elizabeth leaned over and made a show of inspecting the mushrooms, giving Matt her own impertinent grin.
"That you sure do. Is Nancy here?"
Matt nodded, turning back to the sink, "In the office."
Elizabeth thanked Matt and turned, making her way towards the restaurants office. She'd made a habit of talking to Nancy or Paul every morning as soon as she'd been promoted to head chef, checking if there was anything that needed to be done, any special considerations made or any news. Her morning communication sessions with the bosses kept everything running smoothly and insured that there were no surprises, just how Elizabeth liked it.
Knocking on the door lightly, Elizabeth paused for a second before hearing Nancy's voice welcome her in.
"Good morning Elizabeth!" Nancy smiled cheerfully, looking up and moving her papers aside.
"Beautiful out isn't it?"
Elizabeth nodded her head and sat down "Absolutely gorgeous."
Nancy removed her bright red glasses, letting them hang from the silver chain at her neck. "I suppose that by now it should be obvious that any attempt to persuade you to relax during your days off are completely fruitless."
Elizabeth smiled guiltily, "I just can't stay away. Besides, I love it here. It's therapeutic, a word I think many would associate with relaxing."
Nancy sighed in mock frustration and then reached across the desk and held Elizabeth's hands between her own.
"You work harder than anyone here Lizzy, and the results are amazing. I'm certainly not complaining about that, it's the reason Paul and I think a partnership with you would be so good. But I do want you to relax and enjoy yourself occasionally. It wouldn't be any good for anyone if you exhausted yourself." Nancy sighed again. "I suppose we'll have to discuss days off and vacation time in the partnership agreement….perhaps we can make them mandatory!"
Elizabeth laughed. "What's going on today? Anything I need to know about?"
"Not too much actually. It's a Sunday, so it'll be a little quieter of course. Paul and I are going have dinner with old friends tonight, so we won't be here. Deliveries, but you're familiar with those also…"
"And the electrician is still coming?"
Nancy brought a palm to her forehead "Yes! I knew there was something I was forgetting. He should be here in half an hour or so, he's replacing the front light. He might need to talk to you."
Nancy pulled out her day-planner, a black leather book that Paul made fun of for its old-school-ness in an age of cellphones and computers but that Nancy swore by and that was the blue-print for the day-to-day operation of The Acorn.
"And you have your dinner tonight! Promise me that you won't stay past…" Nancy glanced at the clock on the wall, "two o'clock. You'll be back here anyways tonight."
Elizabeth frowned, she wasn't preparing for a red-carpet event.
"Three thirty"
"Two-thirty." Nancy retorted, flipping her day planner shut as if to signal an end to the negotiations.
"I want you to enjoy your dinner tonight. Who's the fourth person? Somebody special you haven't told me about?"
Elizabeth laughed. "No, no. Jane said he's Charles best friend. You know, sister meets boyfriend, best friend meets girlfriend all in one go."
"Well, I'm excited for you both. Charles seems like such a nice man from what your sister says of him, and maybe you'll get along with his friend." Nancy smiled in a way that was meant to look sweet and unassuming but Elizabeth knew better. Shooting her an exasperated look Elizabeth stood.
"Oh I doubt that, I'm not particularly fond of those high-flying businessman types."
Nancy returned the day planner to its eternal home in the top center drawer of her desk and then also stood.
"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure. When I first met Paul, we had both just graduated from college. I'd studied liberal arts and wanted to be a sculptor. Make a go of it and open my own studio. Paul was a chemical engineer who had his sights set on climbing the corporate ladder of an oil company. I was sure there wasn't anything more mundane or less meaningful. I wanted to bolt right out of the blind date our friends had set up for us. By the end of dinner he seemed tolerable, barely, but I agreed to see him again. And look at us now!"
Elizabeth laughed, admitting to Nancy that it was indeed impressive.
"Sometimes the person who you are sure couldn't be more wrong for you ends up being the rightest person you ever met. Promise me you'll remember that."
Elizabeth fought the urge to roll her eyes.
"I'll remember Nancy."
Looking satisfied Nancy made her way towards the door.
"Two thirty Lizzy!"
"Yes Ma'am!" Elizabeth replied with a mock salute before making her way back to the kitchen.
After overseeing preparations in the kitchen, double checking the staff that was booked to work the lunch and dinner shifts, signing off on two produce deliveries and rushing out to procure an emergency supply of olive oil from the grocery store down the street when the restaurants regular olive oil delivery failed to arrive, it was nearing two thirty. Knowing Nancy would have her head if she didn't leave at the agreed upon time, Elizabeth left, knowing she could arrive at the restaurant before seven to satisfy her admittedly slightly OCD tendencies when it came to The Acorn.
Hours later, Elizabeth was standing in front of the full length mirror she had propped up against her living room wall, fussing with her hair. Her curls were behaving particularly badly today, and at last she gave up trying to tame them and opted for a loose bun, secured at the nape of her neck.
She smoothed her hands over the soft material of the black wrap dress she'd bought a couple weekends ago while shopping with Jane. Her older sister had insisted that it was extremely flattering and that it would be a crime not to buy it, and Elizabeth, in a moment of weakness had capitulated. Turning in the mirror, Elizabeth thought she might have to agree with Jane's earlier assessment. The material of the wrap dress was simultaneously forgiving and flattering, the right portion of the dress wrapping over the left portion, like a robe, forming a deep v-neckline which flaunted her ample cleavage while also allowing her to create a "false waistline" by securing the dress just below her breasts, in a bow off to the side, deemphasizing her curvier stomach. Elizabeth fiddled with the top portion of the dress, wondering if it was too sexy for the occasion but decided that the three-quarter sleeves and almost to-the-knee length of the dress, made up for the daring neckline and clingy fabric.
Slipping her feet into her favourite pair of shiny red heels and fastening a pair of square-cut glass earrings to her earlobes, Elizabeth took one last glance in the mirror and exited her apartment.
Darcy glanced at the lower far right corner of his computer screen for the time. 5:17. He glanced back to the document he was reading and sighed, sitting back in his chair. The feeling of uneasiness he had originally felt upon waking up had plagued him all day and to add to that he'd felt heavy and lethargic at the gym and been accosted by not one but two women at the lunch with his investor, something he usually managed to avoid with his stormy looks and off-standish body language. The first had been Caroline, Bingley's step sister, who had been driving by, spotted him, and—Darcy could only imagine—shrieked at her driver to stop the car so that she could proceed to make her way over to Darcy who was eating on the patio of La Bernardin, an upscale restaurant in Midtown. She then chattered on, seemingly endlessly, about the unpardonable dirt and grime found on New York City sidewalks and the strenuous nature of a day that consisted of a manicure-pedicure appointment, a social luncheon and shopping. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Darcy's notorious glare, that somehow managed to be discouraging without appearing outright rude, cut through Caroline's jabbering and sent her teetering on her four inch orange Louboutins back to her car.
Then, just as Darcy had shook hands with the investor—a Mr. Thomas Frederick—and congratulated himself on a job well done, he was approached by a slim blonde woman whom he immediately recognized as Kristen, a young woman from the well-established Oliver family in New York, whom he had dated briefly over ten months ago. She was impeccably dressed, as always, in a champagne coloured dress that showcased her slim frame and long legs. Her blonde hair shone in the early afternoon sun and her teeth sparkled white against her glossed lips as she smiled greeting him.
"Darcy."
Darcy nodded his head in return, willing his driver, Elson, to arrive. His relationship with Kristen had been brief and surface-level, like all of his relationships with women. He had long reconciled himself to the fact that a woman who loved him for him rather than for the prestige of his name or the money in his bank account almost certainly did not exist, and that even if she did, it would take a lifetime of searching to distinguish her among the hordes of gold-digging women with social climbing ambitions. It was best not to get overly involved so he could stay reasonable and focused on things that required his undivided attention.
Kristen had served as his date to the obligatory social functions and they had slept together a few times in the three months before he had severed all ties. They had parted on amicable terms, her having understood the way Darcy operated from the beginning, but meeting her again, alone, seemingly randomly yet obviously orchestrated made Darcy feel both uncomfortable and annoyed.
"Kristen."
She tucked a piece of golden hair behind her ear and smiled brightly.
"How are you? It's been so long."
"Good. Good." Darcy knew the polite thing to do would be extend the question she had just offered him back to her, but he was hesitant to encourage any of her advances. Apparently not needing any encouragement, Kristen continued.
"I was just at the furniture store down the street checking out some new pieces."
Darcy made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat, silently begging his driver to show up. He breathed out in relief as Elson rounded the corner ahead of them.
Kristen extended a perfectly manicured hand placing it on Darcy's arm, understanding her time was short.
"Anyways, I heard you're opening a restaurant. Definitely give me a call if you need any help with the design, special customers get a special discount!"
She then leaned over to kiss his cheek before turning and walking back in the direction she had come from. Darcy barely managed to resist the urge to wipe the gloss from his face until she was out of sight.
Massaging his temples Darcy made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water before proceeding to his bedroom. Charles had described the place as…how had he described it? Casual yet sophisticated. That was it. How helpful. It was just like Charles, in a moment of excitement, to describe something in such a nonsensical and contradictory way. Sighing, Darcy opened his closet and examined its contents. Suits where definitely out, Darcy had gathered that much at least. Were jeans too informal? Shorts? Darcy glanced at his phone wondering if he should call Georgiana, his little sister and primary fashion consultant who always seemed to know just what each occasion warranted in terms of style. It was times like these where Darcy most keenly missed his sister's presence in New York. She had moved to California almost three years ago to study bioengineering, and would be entering her fourth and final year at Berkeley this September. Remembering her mentioning something about helping a friend move out (or in?) during their phone call yesterday, Darcy decided against calling her. He was already enough of an over-protective, omnipresent older brother as it was.
In the end, he settled on a pair of dark wash jeans, a black button down and his new brown dress shoes, a 29th birthday present from Georgiana. If he couldn't benefit from her fashion expertise tonight, the least he could do was wear the shoes she had bought him.
As it was now nearing six, Darcy decided that he'd read his Business Insider and drink some scotch until it was time to leave.
Darcy's car pulled up in front of The Acorn just in time to see Charles and his angel exit their car. Even in the dim light Darcy could make out her general features. She was clearly an attractive woman, perhaps around Charles age, that part was harder to tell from a distance, but she was tall, nearing 6 feet in her heels with a slender and graceful figure, long silky golden hair and a bright smile. Definitely a receptionist of some sort who probably worked part time as a sort of hobby alongside that of catching a rich husband. Perhaps a medical receptionist, Darcy mused. Her smile looked practiced, as if she used it to soothe nervous or anxious patients as they waited in the reception area before they went in to see the doctor. Would Charles ever learn? Darcy wondered, as he watched Charles fawning over Jane, offering her his arm as if they were attending the New York City Ballet. Oh well, Richard would say, another day another fish to fry. Or in Darcy's case, another day another debutante-fortune hunter to dispose of. Richard worked as a lawyer for Darcy's company, and would say this phrase whenever something particularly difficult or unexpected came up. It had always annoyed Darcy but lately he had found himself reciting it when he was feeling exasperated.
Bingley spotted him immediately and rushed over, still holding his angel's hand.
"Darcy! You had a nice drive over here? Not too far hey? And perfect timing! We can all go in together!"
He paused, remembering introductions.
"Jane this is William Darcy, my very best friend, we met back in college. Darce, this is Jane Bennet."
"Nice to meet you."
Jane beamed at him and extended her hand.
Darcy nodded, solemnly. Just as he had thought, flirting while still on Charles' arm.
"Pleasure's mine."
Inside the door there was already a line forming, so they were stuck waiting just inside the door as people waited to be seated.
"You'd think they'd have a better set up," Darcy grumbled,
"Anyone else shows up and they'll be waiting outside."
Bingley rolled his eyes, "Darcy! They just got a rush of customers! This is authentic New York dining. This is what everyone is experiencing while you're busy fine dining on sea urchin and carrot tartare and god knows what else somewhere uptown! I, for one, think the atmosphere is amazing! Vibrant and dynamic."
He turned to Jane and kissed her cheek.
"I'm so glad you recommended it sweetheart."
Darcy had to stop himself from rolling his eyes and snorting. So Jane had her talons deeper into Charles than Darcy had originally anticipated. Well she was about to find out that Darcy never lost.
As they neared the front of the line, Jane grabbed Charles' arm and pointed, in as excited of a way as her calm and composed personality would allow, to the left side of the restaurant.
"There's Elizabeth! I knew she would arrive here early to check on things, she practically lives at the restaurant!"
Darcy usually could've cared less about who this Elizabeth was, but since they were standing in line with nothing else to do he glanced over to where Jane was pointing at a dark haired woman in a black dress and red heels.
Something about the highly feminine picture she presented caught Darcy off guard, though he didn't know what he'd been expecting or why he'd been expecting anything at all. Although something in his subconscious sparked upon seeing her, his experienced and critical eye immediately rushed to his defense, attempting to smother the spark and began to hone in on her obvious flaws. She was too heavy, her full figure a stark contrast to the willowy slimness that her sister possessed and that was so popular in the upper circles of society. Her hair was too dark and too curly, practically wild, and seemed to have a mind of its own, pieces escaping from the loose knot she had attempted to secure them in. Her manner was entirely unprofessional for the head chef of a restaurant, speaking enthusiastically with the waiting staff and rushing around performing menial tasks, such as gathering a stack of menus, jobs which were entirely inappropriate for someone of her position, even in a restaurant such as this. The head chef of a restaurant should convey a sense of calm luxury not of passionate excitement.
Yet he felt something tug at him, a dull sort of ache deep inside his chest to accompany the spark that had lit within the shadowy, lesser explored corners of his mind as he watched her from across the restaurant.
Charles saying his name brought him back to reality, and Darcy clamped down on the stirrings in his chest and mind. She was the exact opposite of the image Darcy and Bingley wished to present of their restaurant, and would certainly not do.
"Darcy! Would you prefer to sit by the window or outside on the back patio?"
"Outside."
Bingley smiled back at the woman gathering their menus.
"The back patio it is then!"
Just as they had made it to their table, Elizabeth arrived hugging her sister and warmly shaking Bingley's hand, apologizing for failing to greet them as soon as they arrived. She then turned to where Darcy was standing across the table and leaned over to shake his hand, giving him a moment to breathe in her flirty feminine scent, feel the warmness of her hand and catch a glimpse of her bright hazel eyes before again clamping down on his reactions and greeting her stiffly.
"Miss Bennet. Nice to meet you."
Elizabeth laughed.
"Call me Elizabeth, please! But if you must use a title, use Ms. Miss is simply too…missish!"
Darcy, somewhat taken back by her reaction, remembered back to when Georgiana had warned him that his profuse use of the old fashioned Mrs and Miss would get him into trouble with a woman one day. When Darcy had replied that it had never caused him any trouble yet, and so he could hardly see it doing so in the future, Georgiana had promptly snorted and told him he wasn't hanging around the right women.
Frowning, Darcy silently took his seat.
They ended up ordering a variety of dishes to share: olives marinated in oil spices and citrus peel served with freshly baked sourdough bread, caesar salad with kale and prosciutto wrapped bread sticks, roasted corn on the cob with a spicy creamy sauce lime juice and a crumbly cheese, maple glazed salmon cooked on a cedar plank, wild mushroom flat bread pizza with arugula and ricotta cheese, seared albacore tuna with mandarin orange and pickles, a fire cooked apple brown sugar and rum dessert pizza, spicy chocolate cremé brûlée, s'more donuts with moonshine caramel and a delicious made-in-house lemon-lime gelato.
Bingley praised each dish enthusiastically and Elizabeth deflected the praise modestly to the kitchen staff, the owners—anyone but herself. That, also, would not do, Darcy decided. It was essential that the chef be directly associated with the quality of the food. If people were to praise and celebrate the food, it was important that they see it as a product of the chef's creative genius and nothing else. This was how all of the most prestigious restaurants functioned.
As Darcy sat silently, enjoying the admittedly mouth-watering food, conversation swirled around him. Elizabeth and Jane had grown up in Austin, Texas with their two younger sisters, Mary and Kitty and—for part of their lives, their cousin Lydia. Their father had owned several stores that specialized in printing high quality images and framing art, their mother hadn't worked. Elizabeth amused Bingley with stories of her and Jane as children, with Jane interjecting every once in a while to add a part Elizabeth had forgotten or purposely left out.
In between bites and exclamations about the deliciousness of the food, Charles asked Elizabeth questions about herself.
Jane spoke so highly of her sister it was so wonderful to finally meet her! Well, Elizabeth was flattered. What had she studied in college? Business management. What had she done before she moved to New York City? Sales for a construction company in Texas. Very boring but quite lucrative. Did she have any pets? An old dog, Nat, back in Austin, but, regretfully no pets here with her tiny apartment. Perhaps she'd get a cat. How did she like New York City? Loved it! The museums, culture, energy, central park and of course the food scene. Bingley had heard she was a runner? If a runner meant loving to run then yes. If it meant a greater than proficient skill level then no. And yoga? Yes she practiced that also from time to time. And she was single, yes? Yes.
With this, Bingley glanced over at Darcy meaningfully, only to catch him already staring at Elizabeth. He'd been silent for most of the meal, eating or distantly observing the goings on of the restaurant, but Bingley had been paying enough attention to catch the short moments where Darcy would stare intensely at Elizabeth from across the table when he thought she was distracted talking or eating.
In all honesty, Darcy was jealous of Bingley, who was gifted with the easy manners and welcoming attitude that made him so likeable and a superb conversationalist. Usually Darcy disregarded the differences between his and his friend's social skills, as although Bingley's open and friendly demeanor might make him easy friends, Darcy's demanded respect and warded off unwanted parasitic characters. However tonight Darcy found himself longing to speak with Elizabeth. To make her smile, laugh, blush. To have her bright, oh-so-fine eyes focsued on him. Instead all he could do was sit silently, as he knew any attempt to instigate a conversation on his part would be terribly awkward.
Jane's voice jolted Darcy from his stupor
"And what is it that you do, Will?"
Darcy was silent for a second before responding.
"Well, it's rather complex. Investments, primarily."
Jane nodded in a highly practiced manner, as if she found this information incredibly fascinating and couldn't wait to hear more. Ha! Darcy wanted to laugh out loud. She was so clearly an experienced mercenary, it was surprising even Bingley hadn't been able to spot it.
"And who do you work for?"
"I own Pemberley Investments."
"No way! The clinic I volunteer at receives a large annual donation every year from Pemberley Investments! It's a major player in keeping us afloat!" Jane exclaimed, adding as an after thought,
"I don't know if Charles told you, I'm a psychologist. We met at the gala raising money for an initiative the parent operative of the clinic I volunteer at started, action and awareness towards society's most vulnerable citizens with mental illnesses was the general issue."
A psychologist? Was this some sort of elaborate ploy?
"Jane's also working towards her PhD in social personality psychology at NYU!" Charles interjected proudly.
Darcy supposed that explained her practiced smile and the familiar manner with which she had asked him questions about himself. Her intentions towards Charles could still be impure Darcy reminded himself.
"Do you have a special interest in mental illness Will or is it just one of numerous charities you make generous donations to?"
Darcy thought he detected a flicker of amusement in Elizabeth's eyes, as if she was teasing him, but he couldn't be sure.
The sound of her saying his name, his real name, did something to Darcy and he overcompensated for the stirrings in his chest by offering her a brief, rather stiff, response.
"We donate to several charities annually. I have someone who oversees all donations made by the company. So no, no special interest."
Elizabeth nodded and Jane continued to ask Darcy several questions about Pemberley's donations, each which Darcy answered as briefly as possible, still thrown off from Elizabeth's question.
As the group was finishing up desert Elizabeth excused herself to use the ladies room with Jane following behind. As soon as the door closed behind them, Jane piped up.
"So, Lizzy, what do you think?"
Elizabeth turned to her sister smiling.
"I think Charles is absolutely lovely Janie. Very friendly, very handsome and very rich!"
Jane swatted her sister's arm, "Oh do stop Lizzy! You know that's not why I like him!"
"Oh yes, I know, but isn't it a nice bonus?"
Jane simply shook her head while holding back giggles.
"Darcy must be practically made of money. The owner of Pemberley Investments—I still can't get over that!"
Elizabeth snorted sarcastically while toying with her hair in front of the mirror.
"I find it quite easy to believe actually. If his arrogance and superior attitude hadn't already tipped me off his complete lack of manners would've left no doubt!"
"Lizzy!" Jane admonished, turning to her sister.
"He's really not that bad. I think he's just shy—uncomfortable in social situations."
"Shy my ass! He's the owner of one of the biggest investment companies in the United States. Do you know how many people he probably has to talk to daily?! All the meetings, galas and social events he has to attend?!"
Jane sighed, adopting her psychologist voice. "It's common for people that are very competent and confident professionally to feel insecure and shy when it comes to more social situations.
Elizabeth smirked.
"This ain't my first rodeo Janie, and this time I ain't buying it!"
Jane's hand wavered, smudging her lipstick as she laughed.
"Please, dear lord, no 'ain't'. You're reminding me of Mom!"
"I've been practicing. Want to hear some more?"
Jane collapsed in another fit of giggles.
"No, please no more. Anyways, I have to use the washroom, then we should get back. They'll be wondering where we made off to."
Elizabeth grabbed her clutch off the counter top. "I'll make my way back right now so they don't think we've dined and dashed!"
As Elizabeth made her way towards the door Jane spoke.
"You know that not all men are like Ethan, Lizzy. You know that right?"
She spoke softly, knowing it was still a difficult subject for Elizabeth despite how she tried to hide it.
"I know Janie. But I'm not taking any chances with guys that seem suspiciously similar."
Jane sighed and nodded. It was natural that Elizabeth would need time before she was ready to jump back into the dating scene.
Elizabeth exited the washroom, deciding to take a roundabout route back to their table so that she could check on how things were going in the kitchen. After checking in with Matt, she made her way down the dark corridor that led out to their patio table. Since it was a warmer night, the windows were open and murmurs of people's conversations floated through the open windows. Just as she was about to round the corner back to their table, she paused, hearing her name.
"Elizabeth seems wonderful! She's so friendly and welcoming and you have to admit Darce, the food here is absolutely delicious! I think we should ask her."
There was a pause, as Elizabeth smiled and then held her breath. Ask her what? Then she heard Darcy's deep voice.
"Bingley please tell me you're joking. While I grant you, the food was better than I expected it's nothing special and more importantly Elizabeth simply doesn't fit the criteria we're looking for. She's a Texan for christ's sake, the way she handles the staff is entirely unprofessional and she doesn't look the part—she's not polished and she's simply too heavy. People don't want to eat at a restaurant they think will make them fat!"
"Well I think she's really quite accomplished..." Bingley rambled off but Elizabeth didn't hear anything he said. Tears pricked her eyes as she attempted to blink them back, feeling ridiculous. Nothing special. Texan. Unprofessional. Not polished. Too heavy. Fat.
He might as well have been Ethan, shapeshifted and come back to haunt her just as she was fully beginning to get over him.
She counted to twenty, pulling herself back together before returning to their table. Jane arrived at the same time so there was no need for Elizabeth to say very much. Ten or so minutes later they all got up to leave, Charles offering a ride to Elizabeth as he was driving Jane home anyway. Elizabeth declined, saying she wanted to check on a few things in the back of the restaurant before leaving and that her apartment was in the wrong direction and a quick walk. Jane looked concerned but Elizabeth assured her that she'd wouldn't walk alone, and after giving her older sister and Charles a hug, they left.
In the kitchen clean-up was in full swing, everything was alreaduy taken care of. She just needed to sit for a moment and the quiet walk home would help her to clear her brain. She sat down removing her heels and rubbing her feet as she tried to place the emotion she was feeling. Really, she should be ecstatic—satisfied at the very least. She had been right. William Darcy was exactly like Ethan. They were both arrogant businessmen who felt themselves to be superior to her unpoised and fat self. Instead, what she really felt was something akin to disappointment. Although she had held on tightly, one could almost say desperately, to her reservations against men that held jobs like Charles, Will—and Ethan for that matter—prior to the dinner, Charles had been so genuine and friendly and though Will had seemed a little tense, he hadn't been outright rude, complementing the food, and listening, if not participating, in the conversation surrounding him.
Elizabeth sighed, emotionally drained, and glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 9:47. She should get home if she wanted to be fresh for opening preparation Monday morning. Slowly slipping back into her heels and grabbing her clutch she wished Matt and the rest of the staff a good night before heading out the back door.
She had just turned onto the main sidewalk when a dark silhouette materialized from the shadows of The Acorn. Startling, Elizabeth's brain scrambled to remember the basics of self defense. She had her apartment keys in her clutch…her heels would certainly hinder her but as long as she managed to go for the sensitive areas…the groin, eyes, nose…screaming was also always an option. Just as she was preparing to scream, keys clutched in hand, the figure stepped farther out into the dim glow of the streetlamp.
"You shouldn't be walking home alone at this time."
Elizabeth sighed out a combination of relief and frustration. As if this evening couldn't get any worse, now Will Darcy was jumping out of shadowy corners to critisize her judgement.
"I thought you left with Jane and Charles."
Darcy shook his head
"I was waiting for you inside the lobby area. It's much too dangerous for a woman to be walking alone at this time of night. Besides, you told your sister you wouldn't walk alone."
"A woman?"
Now that Elizabeth knew what Will really thought of her, she made no attempt to appear polite.
"Yes. A woman. Please. At least let me drive you home." Noting her unimpressed expression he added as an afterthought,
"If only for my own peace of mind."
Elizabeth shifted her weight from one foot to another,
"I walk home alone at this time and later ones all the time. So if you'll excuse me,"
Elizabeth proceeded to walk quickly by him. She'd thought she'd made a successful escape until she heard the thud of heavy shoes against the pavement and turned back to see Darcy jogging after her.
"I told my car to follow us. I'll walk with you."
Seeing no reasonable escape, Elizabeth resigned herself to the fact that sometimes the only way out was through.
There was a short silence before Darcy cleared his throat.
"Dinner today was delicious. Very delicious. Better than I expected." He glanced quickly at her "Not that I didn't expect it to be good."
Elizabeth murmured in recognition that she'd heard him but otherwise remained impassive.
"I didn't know your sister was a psychologist."
"Clearly. I saw your shocked expression. Let me guess, you thought she spent her days lunching and shopping with the occasional spa treatment."
Darcy chuckled, glad to have extracted a response from her while Elizabeth turned in surprise at the warm, rich sound of his laughter, that melted, if only for a moment, his cold and stiff demeanor.
"Bingley tends to attract those types and I'm afraid sometimes he has to be called off."
"Called off?" Elizabeth asked incredulously,
"He's a grown man! He must be 30! Surely he is capable of making his own decisions and judgements."
"Yes, well, sometimes his nature is too friendly and welcoming to see the impure intentions those around him have."
Elizabeth nodded, supposing that dating was a tricky business for rich, well-established men like Bingley and Darcy. Forgetting for a moment what she had overheard earlier this evening, she spoke up.
"That's like Jane too. Always seeing the best in people."
They were silent for some time after that, walking nearly a block before Darcy spoke.
"Bingley—Charles" he corrected himself, "And I have been thinking of opening a restaurant. Bingley was convinced that you would be the perfect person to work as a chef—to help develop the menu and then stay on as a chef sort of deal."
He paused before continuing confidently.
"I was skeptical, and to be quite honest, against the idea, for obvious reasons including that I knew nothing about you. You have zero of the qualifications usually required and will need quite a bit of guidance and supervision, especially initially, because of your lack of experience. Cooking for a fine-dining establishment requires a certain finesse that you don't have as well as a certain polished personal presentation that is absolutely paramount."
Elizabeth reeled in shock. He stressed the word personal as if to suggest this was the biggest, of her many failings.
"I am confident, however, that once these issues are taken care of, you could, indeed, be a suitable choice."
Silence stretched between them as Elizabeth fought for mental clarity from the confusion and insult she was currently feeling.
Darcy held back a smile, knowing what a surprise his offer must have come as to Elizabeth. He swelled with pride and contentment to offer this woman he hardly knew yet was certain was unlike any woman he had ever met before, such an opportunity, one that would grant her access to her grandest ambitions.
Elizabeth's next words could not have come as more of a shock.
"I thank you for your generous offer, but I must decline."
It was Darcy's turn to reel in shock. Was she crazy? This must be some kind of joke.
"Are you serious?"
Elizabeth nodded curtly and continued to walk at a brisk pace.
"And this is the entirety of your explanation? That you would reject my offer with a lack of even an attempt at civility is shocking."
At this Elizabeth stopped abruptly, spinning on her heel angrily.
"What I find shocking is that you require an explanation at all! Your behavior from the beginning of the evening was questionable at best. You behaved stiffly, making little to no attempt to engage either me or my sister in conversation and spent most of your time staring boredly into space. But even that I could've overlooked as shyness or as Jane attempted to justify it, as some sort of strange psychological condition many successful people are challenged with. But then you proceed to offer me a prestigious position while simultaneously insulting everything from my lack of finesse in cooking to my lack of personal polish under the thin and faulty guise of oh-so-charitably providing me with much-needed guidance. But the guise was completely unnecessary! Because I already knew exactly what you think of me! You think the food at my restaurant is nothing special and that I'm unprofessional, unpolished and fat to boot! So excuse me if I don't want to accept your offer."
With this she turned around and walked quickly down the sidewalk, away from him.
Will paled, standing frozen on the sidewalk. How had she heard him? He had been sure it had been just him and Bingley. He squeezed his eyes shut trying to stop the wave of guilt that seemed about to crest over him. He hadn't said anything that was strictly untrue, but he regretted the way he had said it—with a complete lack of the manners that had been instilled in him his entire life. Manners he took great pride in.
Rubbing his neck, Darcy walked dazedly towards his car which was waiting just up the street. He paused before opening the door to the backseat, not feeling quite right about leaving Elizabeth to walk the last couple blocks back to her apartment alone. In the end, though, his embarrassment combined with his certainty that Elizabeth would not appreciate an entourage, caused him to direct Elson to drive back home.
As his car pulled into the underground parking lot below his building, Darcy couldn't help but wonder if the uneasiness he had been feeling all day was connected to the disastrous nature of the dinner. Or perhaps to the unexplainable fascination and illogical tug he felt towards Elizabeth Bennet. As if his subconscious had been trying to warn him of an impending danger indeed.