[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone. I have been writing this for almost a year now and I never really took the opportunity to express my gratitude for all those people who read my story. A very big thank you to each and every one of you who took the time to read my fanfiction. When I started writing it last year I seriously didn't anticipate such a response. It might not be much for some but for someone like me who is just starting out as a writer this is extremely motivating. I always look forward to your reviews. I know I have been very sporadic in updating the story with new chapters. I was in a very dark place in the summer of last year when I wasn't able to write much, but with the help of my family and friends I soon found myself back to loving the things I used to. I try to be as regular as possible but some months there are exams and all that usually occupy priority. Rest assured, Norma Jeanne will be completing this story no matter what it takes. I understand fully that many people might consider my writing a bit amateur. I did start this project with the intention of polishing my skills as a fiction writer and see for myself what I can do with a story and characters. Apart from that, at the end of the day, I just make sure that I and my readers are having fun. So please let me know how you feel about my chapters in the reviews; even your criticisms are valuable to me. Finally, again, huge love to all my lovely readers, especially you 'Dizzy Lizzy60', whoever you are, you are one of my most loyal followers and do know that I love reading your thoughts on all of my chapters, so keep it up! Love you all!

Yours literarily
Norma Jeanne
]

"….And also we would be remiss to not mention the impact of the Qatari policies that played an important role in determining the diplomacy of the Turkish. All we can do now is lay low and patiently wait for it all to play out organically." I concluded my draft and in a rather mindless, involuntarily reflexive way hit send. I drew a long shaky breath and stretched myself backwards in the rickety office chair. I heard James's (the economy editor) robust laughter peal from above the bustling noises of the offices, the quintessential Kafkaesque labyrinth of shoddy cubicles with the heavy stink of cheap coffee looming over all our doomed heads. His shameless laughter reminded me that I didn't proof read the piece even once but I was a bit overconfident that whatever nominal typos there might be will be rectified by him anyways, that is what he has been doing ever since I joined here. For a magazine that I thought was obsolete, the office sure was extremely busy. Not only busy, but positively overflowing with work, with field reporters coming and going, the editors and their assistants running around frantically at all hours of office time. I had to learn the hectic nature of this sleek office building the hard way when I slinked off the first two assignments assigned to me. I was too spoiled by the decaying animation studio under Cas and getting away with not working.

But that day I was extremely thankful for the office being a significantly sanitized version of the one in "Wolf of Wall Street"; whatever debauchery that might have been going on had the dignity to shut the paper thin doors before indulging themselves. I was barely left 5 minutes in a day to think about Aidan's abrupt (probably justified) departure. I was happier that the deadlines and research ate into the time one devotes in self-reflection and think about where one went wrong in life, more importantly relationships. I pulled the cigarette packet towards me while still reclining on the chair.

"Those things will make your breasts saggy you know" I heard the raspy unpleasant voice of Dave peering above my cubicle. He had the same expression of self-satisfaction that he got every time after he made an inappropriate remark on a woman. It baffled me, more than making me uncomfortable now: people like him live in a reality where he thinks saying these things are making him even one percent likable.

I looked at him with narrowed eyes for a few seconds as he anticipated a reaction from me.

"Why, you say this with personal experience?" I said coolly as I lit my cigarette.

The dark haired woman in the cubicle besides me left out a sharp chuckle before feigning it as rude cough. Dave's face turned ashen in what seemed like barely three seconds. But he soon composed himself and prepared to continue his attack.

"And what about the piece on brexit? What is the progress on that?" he asked sharply.

"I don't remember reporting my assignments to you, Dave." I said sitting up and opening my folder with some archived reports, pretending to working on the said piece.

"You are still new here, Lizzie" he started to muse, "You still don't know how the hierarchy works here, you know."

I ignored him.

"James and I," he continued like the idiot he was, "we go way back, longer than you have been on this earth probably."

"Yes, Dave" I said with tired exasperation, "The HR has been trying to remind both you and all the women in this office that you are a 56 year old married man. So thank you, I don't need a reminder."

He opened his mouth with rage for a few seconds but apparently had the good sense to play it out in his head once. He fell quiet and then walked away from the cubicle.

"Elizabeth," James's assistant followed soon after with the overwhelmed expression of being overworked, "James want to see you immediately."

Is it about the proof-reading? I wondered to myself.

"Sure I'll be there."

I crossed the labyrinth of dull grey cubicles with the cacophony of telephones ringing and the murmur of people talking dragged through the air. There would shoot up every two minutes or so a shrill peal of feminine laughter accompanied with the idiotic guffaw of one or two fellow males trying desperately to keep up with the humor that they very clearly do not fancy. There were still many people with whom I wasn't even introduced with properly. Many of them were not bothered by it as much.

I saw James sitting in his chair through the large thick glass panels that acted as two of the four walls of his corner office, making it in many senses a proper corner office. There were blinds hanging from the inside but in my 2 and a half months of working here I never saw them drawn, whether it was 8 AM or 1:15 AM. I saw this as a good thing, because his counterpart adjoining him in his office (the other corner office with whom James shared a glass wall) wasn't as much of an 'open book'. But he was corporate. The only people visiting him were always outsiders with one over-enthusiastic salesman-type fool hobbing up and down in his energy, over-eager to pitch some advertising sale. Always the over-eager salesman.

James sat behind his large glass lined table with someone sitting across him from the table. He was presumably engaged in some kind of gossip. I slowed down a bit hoping that he would notice me coming and I won't have to announce myself in front of a stranger. Yes, I grew a bit conscious noticing a stranger in his office, I don't even know if he was an outsider or someone from the office with whom I haven't made any formal acquaintance. I just wanted to give James the 'reassurance' that I will proof-read my drafts from now on and be on my way. I didn't really had the mental or emotional energy to get involved in any kind of managerial office politics.

I opened the heavy door by putting my entire weight on my right forearm while holding the cigarette in my left. Without going in, I said in a loud voice, "James, you wanted to see me?"

This quick quip startled him a bit as he looked across the office to me. Just when he was opening his mouth to say something, I burst out again, "you know I do normally proofread every draft."

He fell silent for a few seconds, struggling with what to do with this piece of information that he couldn't remember asking for. He left a nervous chuckle to break the tense awkwardness and said, "Okay… good I suppose" And gave a neutral smile.

I smiled in return and stood there for another couple of seconds wondering why did he call me in the first place.

"Is there anything else?" I finally asked in a much lower voice.

"Oh yes!" he exclaimed suddenly as if he just remembered, "I wanted you to meet one of your…" he paused to look at the man excitedly, "fans".

Great, a stranger who has read my columns and I give my editor false reassurances about proofreading my own pieces. Way to handle fame, Liz!

I started regretting pointing out my incompetency in front of a stranger who admired me in whatever limited understanding he had of me by virtue of my work.

"Meet Frank Darcy!" James said as I was walking towards his desk.

I don't recall if I froze completely or just slowed down, because I remember his face emerging in profile in slow motion as I approached the edge of James' desk. It was funny how much of his face I have forgotten. I realized that the Darcy that frequented my daydreams and fantasies was significantly different from the flesh-and-bone version of him. Maybe it was because he was sitting in an office chair that was too small for him, but I felt weird looking down at him, he felt uncharacteristically small that way, whereas in my imagination, he loomed over every part of me. Not just the body, but the soul. The very being of me was being consumed by Frank Darcy whenever I used to willingly conjure him up on empty sunny Saturday afternoons, when my thoughts would shamelessly drift from Aidan to Darcy. As the days passed since that fateful day in December ,Darcy's face kept losing the details of humanity. Soon enough, whenever my subconscious used to throw up him in my hopeless queries for some memory, Darcy was just a dark face and a gigantic figure, the silhouette of his thick mane of raven colored rugged hair and his dark crisp coats acting as makeshift boundary between him and his surroundings.

So to see this man who has been haunting the deepest unknown corners of my mind in more than one ways sitting there in front of my boss, looking up at me with a smile in his stern mouth but eyes quivering with some sinister anticipation, I wanted the entire building to collapse right there and then in some freak accident. The fight-or-flight response my body was giving to this surprise made my armpits itchy and throat suddenly throbbing and dry.

"Hello, Elizabeth" he said quietly in a way that impaled my heart roughly.

"Mr. Darcy was just telling me how much he likes your columns" said James with the good-intentioned innocence of showing off his employee to an outsider, "Especially that piece about the Exxon Rally," he continued, "he was extremely pleased with how accurately you predicted it."

Darcy nodded slowly.

"Thank You" I said through an uncomfortably parched throat while I looked down at my hands. I felt like I was standing naked in front of both Darcy and James; like I was in one of those porn videos where the men examine the actress as she undresses in front of them before they get into a threesome or a gang-bang. I don't think James knew anything about my history with Darcy, I don't think he even noticed my discomfort and surprise. But for some bizarre, nightmarish libidinal reason, I started sensing the faint scent of erotic tension that overhung the three of us for no more than three seconds in that open glass-paneled corner office of my boss. Maybe this is how it feels like to be talked about in third person when you're standing right there in person. No wonder fame is such an intoxicating drug.

"I was just telling Mr. Hobbes here how wonderful it must be to have an economics columnist like yourself in his magazine" said Darcy while gesturing towards James but still fixing his gaze upwards towards me.

"We always encourage honest journalism here, Frank" he replied, "don't we Elizabeth?"

I drew a long breath to gather the energy to reply to that.

"Of course" I smiled at James.

"And you know what else?" James turned towards Darcy, "you would really like…."

He was interrupted by his assistant, "Sorry James, Mac wants to see you about the cover photo for June."

"Oh Right!" James said, "Frank, I will be back in a few minutes, okay?"

"No problem…" Darcy said smoothly as he turned his chair to follow James as he moved away from his desk and towards the door.

"Get a cappuccino from that artisanal place you keep talking about and bill it on me…." James' faint voice ordering his assistant came as the door was slowly closing after him.

I turned and finally looked at Darcy with folded arms. I felt my cheeks growing hot and red from a mix of embarrassment and anger. He maintained eye contact with a rather cool demeanor.

After a few seconds I left out a mirthful laugh and rolled my eyes. Both of us finally broke through the awkward silence and laughed at this stupid coincidence that occurred in the course of the past 10 odd minutes. I turned and started to walk towards the door.

"Liz!" his dark voice whipped across the office.

"What?" I said grimly without turning.

"Why didn't you call or something?" he said.

"Frank…" I sighed and closed my eyes for a second, and then turning around, "you hurt me."

"About your parent's divorce?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Liz, what else was I supposed to do?"

"Kept yourself away from it." I snapped.

"But I was right about it," he said leaning forward, "I was right about your parents, I was right about your sister. I don't understand why you are mad at me."

"Yeah, you" I said looking outside the window behind James' desk, "some random stranger knows my own family better than me. What is there to feel bad?"

I suddenly realized that I was holding the cigarette that has long since been cold. I threw it in the bin near the door.

"I'm not that stranger to your family at least" he mumbled.

"Yes I know" I said irritated, "your mum and my mum" and waved my hands.

Darcy looked down to the floor. I stared at him for a few moments.

"Why are you even here?" I asked?

"a friendly visit" he said, visibly deboarding a melancholic train of thoughts.

"Really?"

"I don't know, maybe I missed you Liz."

My dry throat burned more now.

"I don't think it's the right time Frank" I said slowly, "I just got dumped"

"I know" he said.

"How did you know?"

"Well, if you keep blabbering about the men you fucked at lunch parties then there isn't much that can stay private, is there?" he said rather scorned.

I stared at him, enraged by the fresh accusation.

I finally turned and pulled the heavy glass door. I stepped out, half expecting Darcy to stop me again but he didn't. James' assistant looked up at me from a pile of papers and formally smiled in that trained way people of her designation are expected to. I replied with a short grin and turned left from her desk as I saw James coming towards his office.

I came back to my cubicle to the sight of my phone whirring and vibrating on my desk. I sped up a bit to pick up the call but I was too late. I saw the lock screen graphic turn the 2 missed calls of Emily into 3.

"Where were you?" asked Emily calmly.

"I was in a meeting" I kind of lied to save time, "why what happened?"

"Oh nothing much" she said a bit flustered, "its just… it was…"

"What is it Emily spit it out" I said rather impatiently as I eyed the still-opened tabs on my browser.

"It was Aidan" she said rather apologetically, "he was here to return some of your stuff"

I fell silent for a few moments. Why the fuck do I keep forgetting that I was just dumped? I thought it was supposed to hurt a bit more than this, wasn't it?

I leaned back on the back of my chair heavily with the phone still glued on my cheek.

"Lizzie?" I heard Emily's voice faintly.

"Yeah I am here" I said. "Just put whatever it is on the bed and I'll sort it out when I get home."

"Okay…" she said, "do you need me to do anything? Are you okay and all?"

"I'm fine" I said thinking about the bottle of Chardonnay that mum gave me barely two weeks ago that was already half by now.

"Okay. Well, I'll be late tonight but do call me if you ever need me okay?" she said brightly.

"Okay, thanks Emily" I said smiling and hanging up the call.

I took a few deep breaths and held on to the mouse with an outstretched arm. I stared at the screen for a few moments. The PDF file open on the tab seemed like it belonged to some absurd dream I was having before running into Darcy and it wasn't making any sense. I noticed I had highlighted some passages and was in the process of typing a note in one of them. The only evidence of the discarded thought I had was the letter "D" typed in the side bar that was there to take notes. I for a few brief seconds tried to recall what it was that I wanted to type but I couldn't even understand what I even highlighted.

My vision drifted from the screen and saw Dave pass my cubicle looking down at me from behind its short wall. He wasn't as scornful or angry, if anything it seemed like he too had forgotten all about the quips I made at him in what seemed now like a very distant pre-running-into-Darcy era. He now just eyed me in that banal way an office colleague looks at you while passing you on his way to the copier or the toilet. There was definitely some cosmic weight that dropped onto my fate with the unrelated actions of both Darcy dropping into my office and Aidan dropping my belongings onto Emily.

The unfamiliarity of the whole situation compelled me to get up, shut off my computer, grab my purse and shoot towards the elevators. There was a tinge of guilt that pulled onto me a bit but I knew I had to head back home. I stopped before an empty cubicle to pull my lighter and cigarette pack out of my purse. In the process of lighting my cigarette I inexplicably looked up to see Darcy talking to some other guy I was unfamiliar with.

He is still here? I thought to myself. I stood there observing him for the first few cigarette drags that I took. He noticed me looking at him, and that made me turn around in a cavalier motion and continue towards the elevators.

I saw one that was 3 floors below us but was fast approaching. By the time I pressed the button it had already covered two floors. Some madness overtook me and I turned my head both ways to get a feel of where Darcy might be. But before I could discern anything the lift binged softly indicating its arrival and I entered it.

I pressed the button for the ground floor and leaned against the back wall of the large, rectangular empty lift. The doors of the elevators of this building were always a bit lazy to close down, owning to the fact that it belonged to the office building of overworked grumpy people. I inclined my head backwards taking a particularly long drag of smoke, the doors can shut up whenever they want to, I enjoy admiring it's ceiling anyways. Look at those exquisite speakers that spew muzak. And the paneling that is supposed to disguise the wiring and the cables deserve at least a compensatory prize.

There was finally a tiny ding and the doors started to shut with a slow rattle. But as they were approaching their midpoint rendezvous, a large hand swiftly stopped their lazy journey. The doors took this cue with solemn obedience and started to move backwards again to allow a panting Darcy to enter the elevator.

I stood up just from the shock of the rapidity with which these events transcribed.

"Liz" he said with a sense of desperation that I couldn't figure out if it was from running towards a shutting lift or something else.

"What do you want?" I said.

"Liz, I really missed you a lot" he said inching precariously closer with every word.

I moved towards the corner of the lift hoping to get to some metaphorical high ground but the truth was that hearing those words from him made something churn in my heart.

"No, Frank don't" I said trying to sound angry.

"I know you missed me too, Liz" he said changing the direction of his charge, "you can't lie to me I saw your face in the office"

"Fuck you Frank" I yelled, half angry half crying.

"I can't get away from you Liz" his voice turning into a whisper as his body covered everything that I perceived of that large elevator.

He placed his arm around my waist as I kept pressing myself against the wall of the elevator.

"Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!" I kept yelling as I kept trying to push his largeness away from me in many futile attempts. He was obviously unperturbed because after a few moments he tugged me gently into his direction with the harm that grasped my waist and opened a large mouthy kiss on my lips that were still in the action of cursing him.

My left arm was already commissioned in holding the cigarette and my right hand at this point completely failed to push Frank Darcy away from me. Even as he worked my mouth with his agile tongue I was putting obligatory force onto his chest. My right hand finally rested on his chest and, as it would happen, I felt the faint murmurs of his heart beat on my palpitating palm.

I finally gave in and opened my mouth to the whole. He took no time in accepting the invitation and shoved his tongue to the most remote corners of my mouth.

"You smell of cigarettes" he murmured still looking at my mouth. I smiled through my positively wet chin and cheeks.

"Four Seasons' room service, how can I help you?" came the saccharine voice of a woman when I called from the landline phone that sat on a delicate glass side table.

"Yeah I would like to order some dinner…" I said nervously.

"Very well ma'am. Can I get your room number?" the woman asked.

"Ummm… yeah sure, just a moment" I said a bit flustered as I peeped into the bathroom where Frank was peeing.

"it's the penthouse" he said calmly from the bathroom.

"it's the penthouse, I suppose" I relayed the information.

"It's Mr. Darcy's room!" I heard the faint yet sharp whisper of someone standing presumably behind the woman. The woman made some acknowledgment with 'oh's' and 'okay's'.

"What can I help you with ma'am?" she asked trying to refine her voice a bit.

"I just wanted some dinner so I was wondering what the timings for your dining hall are" I said playing with the cord of the phone.

I heard the noise of the water running in the wash basin along with a soft chuckle of Darcy. He soon emerged carrying the remains of the laughter in the form of an amused smile.

"Oh, um, dining hall hours, Ma'am?" the woman asked.

"Yes, I …" I started to repeat but a very naked Darcy snatched the receiver from my hands and said, "Frank Darcy here, I need a butler here with tonight's dinner menu in one hour" and slammed the receiver on the phone without waiting for a response.

"One hour?" I said, "I was a bit hungry."

"We'll have dinner soon" he said as he leaned towards me slowly, "but not before some…appetizers".

He pulled the duvet away from me to reveal my equally naked body and cupped one of my breasts as he pulled his face closer to me.

I gestured him to lie on top of me as I vigorously brushed his hair with my fingers and I devoured his stubbly mouth.

With an extended hand he turned the lights off from the bedside stand and put the receiver off the machine.

I guess I have dinner when he wants to.