Chapter 7 - professionalism / distance
A week after the gauntlet which had been meeting her parents, she found herself pulled onto a new and exciting project, which she would usually greet with a great deal of energy and zeal. But the second the partner said "Pemberley Digital" and "I would like Elizabeth to lead this one," in the room with all of her team present, staring at her with admiration, she was conflicted in her excitement. They commented on her flushed cheeks right away, before she'd even had time to work out what it meant to have been chosen for this.
"Thank you, Xander, I look forward to taking it on" she smiled, trying to feign an evenness to her tone which she did not feel.
"Yes, well let's pull the A-team for this one, Pemberley Digital do not play around. It's a three month stint, leading them through a transformation project within their internal communications space." Three months, corporate, large client - putting two and two together she realised it was a big deal. She had been on similar projects before, but had never taken point. It was a great opportunity to prove herself.
She allowed herself to bask in the excited energy of the room as they all suggested good candidates to support on the work, and how to begin the programme. It was her favourite part of the job, and she refused to allow her private life to get in the way of enjoying herself.
But still, it was there. The little niggle in the back of her mind that wondered privately how much sway he had in the assignment of a team lead.
She was sure that Xander would have chosen the partner for their ability or potential, rather than to appease a CEO client who may or may not have requested such a thing. Not that she even knew if he was involved. And anyway, with a project like this the wheels would have been in motion long before she had been texting him like a puppy-eyed teenager. She was glad to be given the opportunity - Pemberley had been one of her favourite clients to work with to date. And I might see him more often, she thought to herself. Or wished, really, if she was truly honest.
Her wish was answered on the very first day with the clients, although not without a morning of unfulfilled anticipation to show for it.
Of course, her team had done a great deal of prior planning to kick off the project on the right foot. So she found herself standing in front of a room full of her team and the team from Pemberley Digital, giving an opening talk about the project vision, before they started the contracting and expectation setting. He was not in the room, and she tried to quiet the gentle, disappointment at finding it so. She was not massively surprised, it was not common for the CEO to appear in every project. At least it confirmed that he had not been aware of her selection for this role.
If she found her gaze frequently wandering to the other side of the glass as she spoke, she would not be the one to broadcast it.
Despite her distraction, the talk was received well, and the morning concluded with a great deal of energy and forward motion towards a successful project. They had sandwiches brought into a lobby area and sat for about half an hour getting to know each other. She gestured to a balcony area, given the sun was shining, and took a deep breath as she looked at the view.
It almost felt like trespassing, being here under his roof without having warned him. She had wanted to text him about it, but so far hadn't plucked up the courage. She wasn't sure what it would mean for whatever this was if she was working for him - whether they could continue see each other if their professional relationships began to overlap. So, true to form, she had put off telling him and pretended that they were free to act as they pleased. She was enjoying herself far too much to risk it.
Still, with the sun on her face, she made the most of the opportunity to get to know the client team. They had been very welcoming, as expected, and she knew a couple of friendly faces from the last time.
~.~
William Darcy had noticed her almost immediately upon arrival, as he took a call whilst walking through the empty offices. It was a habit he often indulged in the mornings, before becoming a shut-in in his office, when he knew that very few people were around.
She was bending over a table in one of the glass-walled conference rooms, her back towards him and apparently fidgeting with a cable and her laptop. He could tell it was her from the second she looked up to see whether her laptop had successfully connected to the monitor. From the moment he had identified her, he could not deny himself the pleasure of admiring her from behind for a split second, before the voice on the other end of the phone asked if he had heard their last comment.
His eyes refocussed on the glass just in time for his marketing & communications director to walk around the corner and, seeing he was on the phone, mouth a "good morning, William" before entering the conference room. He returned the pleasantries with a smile and a motion towards his phone that showed his frustration that he wasn't able to join him in welcoming the supposed stranger to their premises.
He tried not to linger outside the room where the object of his - his what? Distractions? Affections? Desires? - was. Refusing to allow himself to dwell on it, he returned to his office. His stomach churned, especially now she was here. In his building. With a very well fitted skirt and heels to accentuate just how well she wore it.
He was screwed.
When he finally got off the phone, he was already late to his first in-person meeting, and so followed the pattern of the morning. He barely had time to use the bathroom, let alone go to stretch his legs past a certain conference room on the tenth floor. Of course, he was intensely curious to know what she was doing here, of all places. He would have to find time later.
So he found her, rallying the troops after lunchtime and heading from the terrace to the coffee machine. He thanked his lucky stars that he had timed his coffee break at the right moment.
"Mr Darcy," came the voice of his MarComms Director. "I don't suppose you have met the team for Project Nova?"
He considered for a split second how to approach the situation. He knew that rumours would go flying if anyone thought she had used their connection to her advantage to secure the consulting contract for Nova, but he had only approved the clear winner in her company's pitch versus the others - long before their tennis date.
His slowness to reply prompted another comment from his MarComms director.
"Ms Bennet is leading the transformation work for us," he prompted.
William Darcy allowed himself a surreptitious glance towards her. Seeing her broad and professional grin front and centre, distracting neckline and all, removed any doubt in his mind. No way would he be able to pass her off as a stranger. Not when her necklace tickling at her throat had heat prickling under his collar. No way in hell.
"I must say, I have only met Ms Bennet and Ms Pruitt, and not in the context of this project," her eyes sparkled with warmth as he stole another glance her way. "I am delighted to meet you both," he smiled warmly to the other two members of the team, and exchanged handshakes. "We are very excited about the energy and direction of this transformation, and I for one am very glad to have you on board."
"Thank you Mr Darcy, if you don't mind the informality, I think Elizabeth will do," Elizabeth replied, and he thought he might embarrass himself, hearing her call him that, with such thickness of voice that she must be trying to drive him wild. And the cheeky eyebrow raise at her request for informality, damn. He wanted to kiss the smug expression off of her face, and he surprised himself with both the revelation that he would have done so if they were alone, and the intensity of the feeling. Instead, he nodded hollowly.
She continued after he gave his gesture of assent. "We like to foster a culture of equality in our work, and formalities are proven to be counterproductive to ensuring that everyone feels able to contribute and challenge."
"Of course, Elizabeth. That is a very admirable approach," he fought to keep his tone neutral. There were no curious looks from his team, so he was reassured that this felt normal to them. He forced his gaze from her face towards the others who were taking it in turns to get themselves a coffee. "Let me reintroduce myself then, in the interests of transparency and equality. My name is William Darcy, and I have chaired Pemberley Digital for about three years now. Whilst I am not directly involved in this project, I look forward to hearing of your progress and I encourage you to do as Elizabeth has said and contribute and challenge."
He looked at her for approval, and she smiled warmly at him. The rest of the group took turns to introduce themselves, and he found himself truly enjoying the distraction from his usual back to back schedule, and the connection with new acquaintances… and just being near her.
He thought about inviting her back to his office on the pretence of getting a kick-off briefing on the project, but deep down he knew that it wasn't really a good enough excuse, and it would only end in trouble. They needed to build an understanding of what her new project meant for them, and his private office was probably not the place. So instead, he tried to divide his attention amongst all of the new team, and resolved to message her when he finished for the day.
~.~
The trouble was that he did not finish until past 8 o'clock - his CFO had kept him behind to discuss the beginnings of the annual report cycle, and he had not been able to get away. Any hopes he had of catching her before heading home seemed unlikely, and he was unable to quash the growing disappointment he felt.
He was surprised when, unable to resist the urge to check on the tenth floor before leaving, she was still there with one of the more junior members of his team. Something akin to jealousy settled in his stomach as he saw them sitting close together with their backs to him, pouring over some files. The young man, a Bill Collins, had moved his chair to minimise space between the two of them, and her entire demeanour was stiff and uncomfortable.
He entered the room without knocking, and her uptight posture relaxed as she saw him.
"Elizabeth, Bill," he acknowledged, "I should imagine the time has long passed for you to down tools. It is only day one."
"Right you are, William," she said decisively. "Sorry Bill, I'll review your contributions tomorrow. We would want to keep people-" she eyed William "-waiting to shut up shop. And I am almost certain it would be breaking all kinds of rules for me to stay unaccompanied."
"Right on all counts, Elizabeth."
"That is what you pay me for," she joked. He received it like a kick to the gut. Decidedly, he did not want their interactions to become transactional. It was the investors who were paying her, he convinced himself.
"Thank you for your commitments to the cause, Bill. I hope you have a nice evening. I can show Ms Bennet out." His tone was curt as he regarded the young man. He had not really done anything to offend him, but William was concerned at how out of sorts Elizabeth had looked when he had stumbled across them. It was clear to the younger man from the tone and the difference in seniority that he had been dismissed, and he gathered his things and scurried away just as Elizabeth started to pack away her belongings. Only when they were alone did William speak, his voice strained as though he had been caught in a drought.
"Are you ok?"
"I thought we agreed upon Elizabeth," she replied, rolling her eyes and avoiding the question. He smiled at her. He could not place her tone, it wasn't quite sharp, but it had none of the emotive warmth it had contained at their lunch dates.
"Sorry, Elizabeth," he drew out her name - half to tease her and half because he liked how the syllables felt on his tongue. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything you would rather I hadn't."
"No, no, it was welcome," she reassured him. "Bill is well-meaning, and has some excellent insights. He's an asset to the team. But I can't help but feel like a mannequin in the window of an Ann Summers when he looks at me."
He didn't want to be too officious, so he chose an open question.
"How can I help?"
"I am not sure you can, without arousing some kind of suspicion as to why you care so much," she said wryly.
"Well, we have a zero tolerance policy for any kind of sexism or objectification here. I could remind him of that."
"After today, he'd just read it as jealousy. Don't worry, I can handle myself."
"Jealousy?" He blushed at the admission that she thought him capable of it. Perhaps they had made it beyond casual acquaintances?
"Yeah, like how you stormed in here to peel him away from my side. Like a jealous person would." The tease in her tone was not hidden, and he laughed with her before challenging her again. She had to know that she was not wrong.
"I am fully aware that I do not have any right to be jealous, Lizzy." It wasn't an admission as such, he wasn't saying that he had been envious of Bill, even though he had.
The use of her shortened name made the hairs on her arm stand on end. Surely he must be able to feel the charged air around them.
As he looked at her widened eyes, framed by eyelashes that were accentuated by a tasteful coating of mascara, he took a deep breath. They still had not had the conversation about what this was yet. Under ordinary circumstances, three dates, four and a bit weeks of texts, and meeting the parents were usually pretty good signals that it was on the track to more than friends, but he wasn't even sure if any of those markers had been real. They were fake dating for the sake of her parents and his sister, but it had been at least a week since he had wanted to try it out for real.
And now he was paying her to be here. Totally in a professional sense, but still, it added complication to what was already the definition of complicated.
As he continued staring at her a little longer than was comfortable, he realised he wasn't ready to put the options on the table. His fear choked him from giving her the choice, terrified that she would choose to be professional. And he had become far too attached to his good morning, good evening and goodnight texts for that to be a real option.
"Do you need a ride home?" He asked instead as they entered the lift together. The space felt confined, like he was too large to be so wrapped up in her. "Or we could walk through the park."
"I can get the tube," she offered out of politeness. "I don't think I am on your way home, wouldn't want your driver going out of their way. And I think walking together - especially if we were seen by others leaving your offices - would call into question more than one anti-bribery and corruption rule."
"You are already engaged with us, and the paper trail is clean."
"I still don't want you getting in trouble," she pressed, settling for a half truth. The fact she was scared of what people would say, that all of her success was down to an advantageous relationship, weighed heavy on her mind. Even though it was not true, she couldn't bear to become known under those terms.
He must have read the resignation in her tone and face.
"If this is what you want, I will not force the issue," he said, feeling his insides sinking as she robbed him of the choice to have presented the options. Her stance was clear. He was to be her temporary boss, and occasional fake boyfriend. No attachments beyond that for fear of him getting into trouble. He wished he had not made such a big deal about the importance of reputation on their way back from her parents.
"But just know," he said, his sadness making him cavalier about it, "It is not what I want."
His tone was resolute, and it spoke of a man who was very used to getting exactly what he wanted. Why did this have to be this that he couldn't have?
Her heart rate picked up, and she turned to face him just as they reached his waiting car at the front of the building. This was the point they had teetered on for the past month, where they would kiss each other soundly if they were real dating, if their professional lives were not so complicated. She stood painfully still, on the verge of leaning forwards and devouring him, but the glint from a CCTV camera caught her eye, and she put her hand out for him to shake instead.
The gesture was chillingly distant, so opposite to what he wanted. When she let go, he felt his hand burn where their skin had briefly touched. He flexed his fingers as he got into the back of the car, and spoke softly out of the window so only she could hear.
"You know where to find me if you change your mind."
And with his promise fading away on the wind, he was gone. She kicked herself, and made plans to pick up her body weight in ice cream en route home.
~.~
"Woah, rough first day at the temp office?" Jane asked when Lizzy arrived and slammed a heavy tote bag onto the kitchen counter. Three tubs of ice cream rolled out, and her sister's frustration morphed into a slow sadness. The overall effect was the most severe case of moping Lizzy that Jane had seen in recent months.
"I don't want to talk about it," Lizzy grumbled, sourcing a spoon. She padded through the apartment to her room, slamming the door behind her.
She emerged ten minutes later, Taylor Swift blasting from her phone. She was dressed in her comfiest pyjamas, holding the spoon in her mouth and an open ice cream tub in her hand. She hauled herself to the sofa, pressed pause on the music and started Drag Race from where they had left off over the weekend.
Her sister poured them both a glass of water and came to snuggle in next to Lizzy. The younger felt a great comfort in the nearness of her sister, and let out a breath she did not know she had been holding.
"I think I want more from him than pretending for a wedding," Lizzy said after a few minutes of comfortable silence. It had been like this for as long as she could remember, the ease with which the two sisters shared their most vulnerable secrets.
"Oh Lizzy," Jane gushed, taking a moment to chew over the revelation. "Isn't that good news, though? Why so mopey?"
"I am not moping!" Lizzy cried, indignant. Jane just raised a brow at the half-eaten pot of ice cream.
"Ok, fine, so what if I am," she admitted. "I think I have the right."
"How so?"
"So you know William told you all that he's the CEO of a FTSE 250?"
"Yeah, but you already knew that, right? Charles told me that day at tennis," Jane said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I don't get why that would make you sad, other than… Has he been ignoring you? Is he too busy with work?"
"No, no. We text all the time actually." Her tone was wistful for a moment as she thought about all the joy that her phone notification sound brought. Christ she was like a mouse in a biology experiment, waiting for her shot of dopamine when the sound pinged at her. She shook her head and continued explaining her melancholy to her sister.
"Well, it just so happens that William's FTSE 250 is, in fact, the very same FTSE 250 that my new project is for." She paused to let the magnitude of her professional purgatory settle in. "Like, what are the chances? The first major project I get to spearhead, in my area of expertise, and he is the project sponsor."
She had her head in her hands, and her sister stroked her arm apologetically.
"Oh damn," Jane said, helpfully.
"My thoughts exactly," Lizzy whinged.
"Yeah that for sure complicates things."
"As if it wasn't already complicated," she replied. "What do I do?"
"Well you obviously can't date him for real. Definitely not until you're done at Pemberley."
Lizzy knew her sister was right, it was too complicated. If she ended up dating him for real she was setting herself up for rumours and career-breaking reputational damage when the truth came out. But she had hoped Jane might have seen a way she could have both him and the job. Her disappointment was crushing, and she took a big gulp of ice cream before speaking again.
"Jane, if even you - the eternal hopeless romantic - tells me no, what does it say for my stupid heart that she still says yes?"
"Oh you are screwed, sis. No doubt about it." Jane's tone was frank and unapologetic, and it made Lizzy want to cry.
"I know you're right," Lizzy surrendered reluctantly.
"Trust me, I would rather be wrong," Jane squeezed her sister's leg.
"I don't know, is it wrong that I want to keep texting him? And I don't want to miss our Thursday lunches either?"
"Just be careful, Lizzy." Jane's voice was soft but firm.
"I will," she promised.
"So you're still going to take him to the wedding, right? I don't want to fly solo." Jane had genuinely enjoyed their two outings as a foursome, and had been looking forward to the third.
"If he's ok to continue with pretending, then I'd love to go together. Even if it's all fake, I do really enjoy his company."
"Oh honey, you have it bad."
"I know."
Lizzy grasped a chance to change the conversation from her impossible situation. She knew a topic that would get her sister going, even if it was a bit close to the complication on her lips.
"How are things with you and Charles? You looked cosy at Mum and Dad's."
"Charles is wonderful. I know you're going to say it's too soon, but I have a confession." Jane was bubbling with happiness, which in turn banished some of her sister's melancholy. Lizzy smiled tentatively at her, begging her to proceed.
"We went on another date last night-"
"What's that, your third this week?" Her sister said, her tone joking.
"Only the twice this week," Jane blushed to have been caught out. "Anyway, we went to an Italian place round the corner from where he lives."
"And?"
"And he invited me back to his after. Lizzy, I swear to God his place is so nice."
"And his bed?" Lizzy asked cheekily.
"I was too busy to pay it much mind," Jane admitted, blushing even redder at the unspoken confession.
"Jane!" Lizzy exclaimed, reaching over to hug her tightly. Jane's happiness at her relationship progression was evident, and Lizzy was genuinely happy for her. She had quickly become consumed by the gentleman in question, and Lizzy was glad to see that they had been so compatible in this as well as seemingly every other way.
"Yes, well," Jane said awkwardly. "I had a lovely night, and I think it cleared any doubt either of us may have had about the nature of our particular arrangement. Mum will have at least one daughter attending Charlotte's wedding with a real boyfriend. So no pressure on yours."
From anyone else, Lizzy may have thought the last comment insensitive. But this was Jane, and so she took it at face value.
"Thanks for removing one single layer of complication for me," she said in a teasing voice. "Only thirty-nine left to go."
"I am sure you will get there with William if you want to, Lizzy. How long's the project?"
"Three months," Lizzy moaned.
"Christ, that's a while," Jane said sympathetically.
"No need to tell me, I already know. Slowest three months of my life."
"But then…"
"Let's just get through this bloody wedding first and see where we're at," Lizzy admonished.
"I have every faith it will work out for you, Lizzy."
"Glad one of us does."
She spooned herself a giant dollop of caramel chew chew and turned the volume up, looking for a distraction from the suffocating conversation. She wished she could have the same level of assurance as Jane. But she remained firm in her resolution to remain professional in his workplace. She had worked too hard to risk her career, even for one so intriguing and charming as he.
That night, she fell asleep after an hour of tossing and turning with his eyes in her mind and the weight of her duvet reminding her of the weight of his hug after their family dinner.