A/N: ehh...
Ch. 14
True to herself, Lydia was a problem. A whirlwind of problems. Liz arrived home at seven in the morning, after standing in a line for a taxi for over an hour.
Lydia just added to her growing headache.
"Oh Lizzy! I'm so glad you're home! L.A is so much fun. Way better than Philly." Lydia cooed.
"I told you not to call me Lizzy." Was all she had to say to her sister.
"Are you not happy to see me?" Lydia fake-pouted.
"It's not that. I've just had a crappy few days, that's all." Liz brought her sister into a hug. "I missed you, how have you been?"
Despite the constant annoyance her sister gave her, Liz still loved Lydia.
"Ugh! School sucks. My teachers don't appreciate my artistic talent." Lydia said.
"And what talent would that be? Your knack for vandalism?"
"That was one time sophomore year! Am I going to live that down for the rest of my life?!"
Liz put her bag down and walked into the kitchen to get some much needed coffee. "Yes, you will. It's on your permanent record." Liz stated.
"Well my school record doesn't matter anymore because I'm not going back." Lydia said defiantly, putting her hands on her hips.
Liz almost laughed. "Very funny. You're going back to school. You have to graduate high school. Besides, you only have a couple months left. Did you talk to Jane about this yet?"
"No, I just decided it right here, right now. I'm never going back to school. Ever. I'm staying with you guys."
"Oh no, you're not. You're going back to school once break is over." Liz said, her voice stern.
"You can't make me." Lydia stuck out her tongue. "I'm an adult. I can do what I want."
"You may be eighteen, but you are certainly not an adult."
"You're not my mom, you can't tell me what to do!" Lydia stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room.
Elizabeth was going to go start a screaming match with her sister about getting an education, but her phone ringing in her pocket stopped her.
She sighed. "Speak of the devil." Liz muttered. She braced herself for whatever her mother had to say to her now.
"Yes mom?" Liz said politely.
"Elizabeth, do you know what my US Weekly told me today?"
Liz pinched the bridge of her nose. She did not want to be playing this game. "I don't know mother. Are Brad and Angelina adopting another baby?"
"No! Not yet, anyway. But they are due for another one soon. Today my US Weekly told me that Will Darcy has a new girlfriend."
Elizabeth cringed. "Did it? Well that's nice mom. Was that all you wanted to tell me?" She was growing impatient.
"Of course I have more. Do you know who his new girlfriend is?" Mrs. Bennet didn't wait for an answer. "It's you, apparently."
Liz spat out her sip of coffee when she heard her mom. "What?" Liz practically screeched.
Franny Bennet continued as if she hadn't heard her daughter. "Imagine my surprise when I flip open my magazine and I see a picture of you and Will Darcy in Central Park. When was this? And why didn't you tell me you had a boyfriend?! I had to find out from a magazine, Elizabeth."
"That was two days ago. And he's not my boyfriend, mom." Liz didn't want to talk to her aggravating mother anymore, so she hung up. She then proceeded to turn off her cell phone and unplug the house phone so that her mother couldn't reach her. She had heard enough about Will Darcy. He was making her crazy!
The next day, she was back at work. She was a little sad when she passed Charlotte's empty office. Liz really missed her. Char had responded to Liz's message the previous day, and they talked for a while, but soon, duty called.
Liz made her way to her desk just as the mail cart was passing through.
"Uh...Elizabeth Bennet?" The office mailman questioned her.
"Yea, that's me. Got anything for me?"
"Just one thing. A letter." The young man handed her the letter and made his way to the next desk.
She looked at the letter for a minute. The handwriting was unfamiliar, but very meticulous and neat. Carefully, she opened the envelope.
Liz unfolded the paper inside the envelope. Then she saw who wrote it. Will Darcy. Man, I just cannot get a break. She was about to toss the paper into the garbage, but her inherent curiosity got the best of her. Why would he write her a letter? She had to find out:
Dear Elizabeth,
I was unsure of your home address so I mailed this letter to your work. I'm sorry if this is a little awkward.
This letter is not about our kiss, but the subsequent argument that took place. I wanted to clear up some of the things that were said, or rather, not said.
Firstly, I wanted to talk about the club. I was in a bitter mood and I lashed out at Charlie. I am so sorry that you overheard what I said. The truth is, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever met. I love the fire in your eyes when you speak, because you speak so passionately. You are an amazingly beautiful woman and by no means 'not pretty' as I stubbornly said before.
Next, I would like to address a rather important and sensitive topic: George Wickham. We did, indeed grow up together. But I never disliked him because I was jealous, I disliked him because as a child, he was constantly getting in trouble, and it did not get any better with age. He followed me to L.A, maybe because he thought he could mooch off me, but it couldn't have been to make something of himself. When my sister came to visit after she had graduated high school, she started spending time with Wickham, as I was busy filming. I deeply regret leaving her alone with him now.
One day when I came back from work, my sister told me that she and George were in love. I truly did believe that she was in love with him, but the only thing George is and ever will be in love with is money. Wickham devised a plan where he would marry my sister to gain access to her large trust fund given to her upon my father's death. When he showed up at my house the next day to run off with Georgie, I stopped him. Regrettably, I did punch him. A couple times.
I asked him how much it would take for him to leave our lives forever, and he told me 'one million dollars would suffice.' So, I gave him the money and told him that if I ever saw his face again, he would regret it.
My sister was heartbroken. She believed that George did love her. I hated being the one to tell her. A few weeks later we found out that Georgie was pregnant. In another few weeks, she miscarried. She fell into depression. She became a shadow of her former self. My little baby sister wasn't as innocent as she once was, and it was all because of that bastard Wickham. I blame myself for not protecting her. Four years later, she is just starting to come out of her shell again. She has been through so much.
So that's the real truth about George Wickham. Rich knows the whole story, too, so if you don't believe me, you can ask him. Even if I never see you again, I just couldn't let you go on believing that George Wickham is a saint who has been wronged.
I really appreciate you reading this. Thank you, Elizabeth.
-WD
When Liz finished the letter, she put in down on her desk. She needed to get her thoughts in order, but her tear ducts had other ideas. Liz covered her mouth and started to sob silently. How could I be so stupid, believing Wickham. Jane and Charlotte were right, there was more to the story. But I didn't listen, instead I lashed out on someone so undeserving. And poor Georgie! No one deserves to go through that! What have I done?
A couple co-workers passed by Elizabeth. She quickly wiped her eyes and attempted to compose herself. "Is everything alright Liz?" One of her co-workers asked.
"Yea, I'm fine, thanks." Liz sniffled. Her co-workers looked at her suspiciously, as if they weren't buying it, but they thought it best to just give her some space.
Her desk phone rang when the others left. "Hello?" She answered.
"Ms. Bennet, this is Wendy, Mr. Stevens assistant. He would like to see you in his office." The voice on the other end was solemn.
What was this about? Did someone tell her boss about her momentary breakdown? "Uh...okay I'll be there in five minutes." Liz answered.
Wendy told Liz that Mr. Stevens would be waiting. She put her letter down and walked towards the elevator to go to the top floor. She had the elevator to herself, making her even more nervous about what her boss had to say.
Liz couldn't stop thinking about the letter either. Do I even believe him? What am I thinking, of course I believe him. "Oh come on, Liz. It's not like you're ever going to see him again." She started talking to herself. "It's not like you had any feelings for him. It would never have worked out anyway. He's a fucking celebrity and you are just a girl from a middle class family in Philadelphia. Stop talking to yourself, Liz." She admonished herself.
The elevator door beeped, signaling the end of her journey. Liz reluctantly stepped out of the elevator. She slowly made her way to her bosses office, counting every step she made by the clicking of her heels on the floor. Today was just not her day. She totally fucked up with Will, and now she was probably going to be yelled at by her boss.
Opening the door quietly, she peeked her head in the office to gauge her bosses mood. He seemed completely at ease. Maybe even a little smug.
"Hello, Mr. Stevens." Elizabeth shyly said.
"Com on in, Elizabeth." He waved her in.
"What is it you wanted to see me about?" She asked.
Bob Stevens chuckled. "Getting right to business, are we? I have some good news for you, but first, how is your family?"
"My family?" Liz realized that he was referring to the lie she made up to leave New York, yet he didn't seem to know it was a lie. "Oh...they're all fine now. It was nothing big. Just a minor...thing...that is all fixed up now..."
Bob steepled his fingers. "Good, good. Well, now to my good news." He reached into his desk and pulled out a magazine. Uh oh, that's the US Weekly that my mother was talking about...
"Is this true?" Her boss asked, a little smug grim playing on his lips.
"No, sir. It's not. I...I can explain." She started, but didn't know exactly how to finish.
"No need to explain." He said. "Will Darcy already told me all about it when I called him fifteen minutes ago."
"You called Will?" Liz asked, a little confused as to why her boss would call him.
"Yes, and he agreed to an interview, to clear things up. After much prodding from me, I might add. You'll be headed back to New York tomorrow."
Liz was stunned. "Interview? With Will? In New York? No, I...I don't think I can, sir. Can't we just do a phone interview?"
Mr. Stevens smug smile disappeared. "No, this will make a great story. You're already obviously close with him, I want an in person interview. It's more personal this way, which will make for better ratings."
Liz had never seen her boss so insistent and demanding. She would have protested more, if it wasn't for the fact that he was her boss and he could fire her ass if he wanted.
"Umm...okay. What time?" She said wearily.
"I'll have Wendy e-mail you later. Best of luck, Elizabeth." Her boss said.
She nodded and promptly left the office. Back in the elevator, she screamed at the top of her lungs. "Fuck!"
This wasn't supposed to happen. She wasn't supposed to see him ever again. She kept replaying the letter in her head over and over again, no matter how hard she tried to forget it. She had made a huge mistake and she didn't want to face the man that she so wrongly accused.
Liz got to her desk and grabbed the letter and her purse. She then spoke to the woman in the cubicle next to her. "I'm calling it a day, Toni. If anyone asks where I am tell them to mind their own fucking business."
Without waiting for a reply, Liz stormed out of the building. I need to go for a walk to clear my head and get my shit together.
After his employee left, Bob Stevens leaned back in his desk with a smirk on his face. He picked up the magazine. They sure would make a great news story.
15 minutes earlier on the phone:
"Hello, Mr. Darcy?"
"Yes, who may I ask is calling?"
"This is Bob Stevens, head of L.A Mag." There was no response.
"I am also Elizabeth Bennet's employer." Bob Stevens tried.
"Oh, um, what is it that you wanted to talk about, Mr. Stevens?" Will Darcy's voice sounded a bit more eager now that he had brought up Elizabeth.
"I have a proposition for you, Mr. Darcy."
"...I'm listening."
"It has come to my attention that you and Elizabeth are very close." Mr. Stevens glanced to the desk where the article about Will Darcy and his mystery girl in Central Park was. "And I would like to propose an interview."
"An interview with you?"
Bob chuckled. "Oh no, not me. You and Elizabeth Bennet. An interview to talk about your relationship. As she works for L.A Mag, it seems only logical that we should get the scoop first."
"There is no relationship. I'm sorry to disappoint." Will's voice became agitated.
"Oh Mr. Darcy. I'm sure there isn't a relationship...yet."
"I really don't think it is any of your business, Mr. Stevens. So if that is all you have to say to me I better get going."
Bob Stevens became frantic. "Don't hang up, Mr. Darcy! Please, not yet." He waited to hear a response.
"Alright, I'm still here."
"Now you might not want to hear me say this, but here it is: I have been working in the journalism business for over thirty years now. I have the magazine right in front of me, with pictures of the both of you. Now, in my thirty years of experience, I have picked up on a few things. One of them is how to hold in pee, because if you're waiting for an interview, there's not always a restroom nearby. The other is how to read faces. Mr. Darcy, don't tell me you are not in love with this woman. I have three pictures as proof."
There was a sigh on the other end. "I don't think she would want to see me."
Bob Stevens smiled. It worked. "Oh I can work that out. Just tell me that you'll do the interview."
Will paused for a moment before responding. "Okay. Yea, I want to do the interview."
"Great. Give me half an hour and I'll call you back."
"Sure." There was a click on the phone. They both hung up.
Mr. Stevens got up from his desk and walked to his receptionists desk. "Wendy, stop what you're doing. I need you to call Miss Bennet and tell her to come to my office. It's important."