Section I, Next Section
Mini-Prologue
She had often wondered if she had not happened to look up at that precise moment, she would have missed out on something beautiful. The thought tortured her in the initial period of their acquaintance, but enough time had passed now that she could look back with slight amusement. And gratitude, for whomever was up there looking out for her.
Chapter One
"Elisa, the coffee?"
She looked up at her manager with a confused smile, barely remembering where she was or what she was suppose to be doing. "What?"
"The coffee," he repeated, steadily.
She looked at the cardboard cup she had in her hand and grimaced to herself. The job was so mechanical, so methodical and colorless than any 10-year-old could do it if he applied himself. She snapped back into automatic mode, filling out countless orders of double tall vanilla lattes, expressos, and beverages of the like. What am I doing? She thought, bitterly. I don't even like coffee. The toasted, roasted aroma, day after day after day, was enough to make someone vomit, and she certainly was on the verge of doing that. But Elisa couldn't bite the proverbial hand that fed her, or clothed and housed her for that matter. Pickers couldn't be choosers, and she was well aware of it.
By the end of the day, she was wasted. Every ounce of enthusiasm she managed to scrape up in the morning was drained away with every dollop of whip cream on the iced mochas, every high-strung order of the caffeine-addicted. Time passed without distinction. Faces disappeared within the masses. Days were filled with ever-constant blurs of people moving this way and that, busy with their own important lives; and all Elisa wanted to do was just shut down. Stop everything in its tracks, sit down and amongst the still-frozen people and contemplate what exactly was she doing in her life. Where was this all leading?
Nowhere. She thought, miserably.
"What can I get you?" Elisa grumbled, not bothering to look up at the customer. It was nearing evening now and the morning caffeine-rush had died down to an almost comforting trickle of familiar faces, the regulars. They were knowledgeable enough, having encountered her foul mood, which tended to come around the same time every afternoon, to never question her demeanor; to never ask for more than she was liable to give under the watchful eye of Collins, the overtly pompous manager of the particular coffee chain this side of New York City.
"I say, how about service with a smile?" a voice countered.
She looked up hastily, wanting to see the person that had dared to stir her temper. And at this part of the day? It was veritable suicide, she mused. The man behind the voice stared, indifferent to the increasingly disgruntled expression upon her face. He was new, to be sure. The debonair air surrounding him was unmistakable: slick Armani suit, polished leather shoes, dark sunglasses and a wicked arrogant smile.
"Excuse me?"
"Service with a smile," he repeated. "That would be fitting, would it not? I expect you are wishing to sell a product to me, and that would require some sort of amiable attitude? Of course, unless your purpose is to deter every customer from ever returning again."
Elisa blinked, attempted to respond viciously, but failed to think of anything intelligent to say.
"What can I get you?" She finally replied, dismissing the stranger's comments.
"Let's start with a smile, and then we'll go from there."
She was in no mood to trifle with quarrelsome customers. "No." The short, clipped answer seemed to have a strange effect on the man. He, who so obviously had had everything his way since his birth, was being denied something by a mere coffee-girl? Impossible. He paused for a second, thinking he had misheard her. "Do you want coffee or not?" She barked, feeling uncomfortable in his silence. He took a few moments to stare at the insolent girl, trying to justify her temper. But there was no explaining it.
"Now that I think of it, no thank you, madam." He answered with a slight turn in his voice. He had every reason to be angered, or at least annoyed by her unorthodox way of treating people. Certainly any intelligent woman would much rather be agreeable to prospective customers and complete a few sales than turn them away with an embittered countenance and sell nothing. But she had no inclination to please him, and he wondered why not. Everyone, to be sure, always felt wary in his presence, but she remained undaunted.
"Collins," he spoke to the fumbling man behind her, who had been trying ever-so-discreetly to move into the conversation. "You know who I am?"
"Ah... Yes sir, I do." Collins replied, nervously.
"Then you realize the importance of my relationship to this establishment. I suggest you have a talk with Miss-"
"Bennet?" Collins supplied.
"Yes, Miss Bennet," he made an obvious effort to look at her as he spoke, "about her performance on the job, particularly in the area of public relations. I am sure it would do your sale projections a world of good, would it not? That would not surprise me."
"Right away, sir. You can count on it, sir."
"Okay then." He ended briefly, and was out the door without another word or look. He disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.
Elisa stood in amazement of the scene, unable to understand how this man had anything to do with her or Collins. Her employer turned on her directly after the visitor had departed. The color of his fat, unpleasant face rose considerably as he spat out angrily at her.
"Do you have any idea who that is?" He nearly shouted.
"No."
He scoffed at her stupidity. "Does the name 'Darcy' ring a bell?"
"I'm sorry, what?"
"Darcy. William Darcy, for God's sake, Elisa! His family owns Pemberley, Inc. Perhaps you have not wondered why our chain is named 'Darcy's'"? Darcy. Darcy's." Collins puffed with every word. "Do you understand what I am trying to say?"
"Evidently something of little importance, you idiot." She muttered under her breath while plastering on a look of ignorance. She shook her head no.
"What am I to do? We shall all be thrown out, I dare say! How could you Elisa? How could you be so rude?" Collins ranted and raved up and down the aisle. "It is unforgivable, simply unpardonable."
She was about to tell him to calm down when the telephone rang.
"Darcy's. Manager speaking." Collins answered. Elisa moved to the cappuccino machine and proceeded to clean out the spout as he talked. "She's occupied at the moment, sir... Yes, of course.... Yes... Right away, sir. I completely understand."
He turned to Elisabeth, who was busy trying to appear occupied. "That was Mr. Darcy. He called specifically to inform me that you are to be let go immediately. Hand in your apron and name tag at the end of the day."
She stopped mid-scrub, not sure she had heard correctly. "What did you say?"
"You are fired, Elisabeth. I simply cannot tolerate ignorance and rudeness any longer."
Chapter 2
William Darcy, head CEO of Pemberley, Inc. - a Rupert Murdoch-type corporation consisting of multiple divisions headed by family members - was pleased with himself. At 28-years-old he had managed to bring about a revolution in modern American business economics by launching Pemberley, Inc., about five years ago. The name of "Darcy" was well-known in the business world - his father had had substantial success on the New York Stock Exchange - and predictions ran high over the future of young William Darcy, but no one had ever expected this.
Fresh from NYU, William was ambitious and fearless in his adventures into the real world. His first experimentation, a small stockbrokerage in honor of his late father, exploded onto the scene and, within months, rose into one of the most respectable and trusted brokerages in New York City. The next step was, of course, expansion into other industries. And Darcy was not one to be daunted in the face of challenge. Pemberley, Inc., as he fondly named it, was a brilliant success in the whole sense of the word. Many divisions opened up, two especially under the guidance of his most particularly loved family members; his sister Georgiana headed the fashion/entertainment department, his cousin Richard headed the arts/advertising department.
And he? He must have inherited the right genes because Darcy was adept in the Market. And he loved it, the thrill of buying, selling, and making millions all by choosing the right stock at the right time. Everything was to chance, and that's what made it exciting. Although, on first acquaintance, one would never think Darcy was willing to risk anything.
On this particular November day he had done what he thought he would never have done: he went into Darcy's and attempted to mingle with the lower classes. This excursion was largely due to Georgina's insistence that he needed to be in touch with the regular Joes. She had accused him of being prejudiced towards the very people that Pemberley, Inc. was built on.
Darcy had every intention to be civil. For days he had staked out this particular chain-store, his chain-store, in order to see how everything ran and plan out how he would act, before he went in. He even went as far as to choose a particular employee to help him. He had seen her across the street for the past week, watching her somewhat petite form nimbly making her way from machine to machine. She was young, a college student maybe, yet she worked everyday from 9 to 5. For some reason, Darcy found himself wondering about her. Why was she working instead of going to school? Where was she from? Who was she? What was her name?
He would have continued on pondering these questions earlier this morning, if she had not looked up at him. The moment he realized he had been caught staring, he blushed. Her eyes flashed with spirit and immediately captured his attention. Even from this distance he could tell they were beautiful.
And so he investigated further. Upon entering the establishment, Darcy was overwhelmed with the rich aroma of coffee beans; it right nearly knocked him off his feet. And if it didn't, he was sure that the sight of his new obsession would. She stood a few feet away, looking down at a ledger of some sort, and not paying attention to anybody. But when he got closer to the counter, she addressed him without even bothering to look him in the eye. He was a bit startled at first at the rudeness of her conduct and the tone of her voice - for someone that small he had expected her to be soft-spoken, yet her voice cut clearly with the strength and bitter sharpness of any New Yorker.
Darcy reacted in the only way he knew how: he talked down to her. And of course he justified it to himself as he went out of his way to make sure she knew that he was the one in charge. But she did not seem to care. In fact, it caused her to be even angrier and bitterer. After exchanging a few words with the manager, he left in huff. But as soon as he was out the door, Darcy felt the slightest tinge of regret for acting the way he did.
He had a right to be angry, right? Yes, of course. She acted like she didn't even know him. Him! William Darcy, for God's sake. Her superior in ever way.
And yet, somehow he couldn't shake the feeling. A couple of minutes later, he dialed up Hannah on his cell.
"Pemberley, Inc. Personal assistant to Mr. Darcy, speaking. How may I help you?"
"Hannah, get me the number to the Darcy's on 50th and 8th Ave."
"Oh, it's you sir. Of course..." Darcy could hear the tapping of her fingers on the computer keyboard. "555-4567. Do you need anything else, sir?"
"No Hannah, thank you." He was about to hang up when she interrupted.
"If it wouldn't be too much to ask, I was wondering when you would be back?"
Darcy knew what this meant. "Is Caroline asking for me again?" For the past few days, Caroline Bingley had been coming round his office more often than usual. She was the sister of his dearest friend, Charles, and the head of the Personnel department at Pemberley - although, after he got to know her better, Darcy always wondered why he had ever even allowed her onto the premises in the first place. Well, it had been a favor for dear Charles, who was worried about his sister not finding a job, and since Darcy was starting a new business and needed employees... The rest was unpleasant history.
"I am afraid she is, sir. Shall I tell her you've gone up to the Hamptons for a few days?"
"Hannah, you could tell her I've gone to China, for all I care. Just make sure she's not there when I return."
"Of course, sir."
Darcy grimaced at the thought of Caroline, her annoyingly sugary-sweet voice telling him that whatever he did, every decision he made was purely genius. Her whole person reeked of insincerity and eau de "trying-too-hard". He just couldn't stand her. Wherever he went, she was there. Whatever he did, she would be there to congratulate him. He had thought it flattering at first, up to point where she opened her mouth and told him how "charming" the curtains were that hung in the sitting room at his home; Charles had brought her by one day after Darcy had said Caroline would be welcome to Pemberley and now it seemed there she would stay. He couldn't say "no" now, after he had told Charles that he would love to take Caroline.
Then, Darcy remembered what he was supposed to be doing. He dialed the number and waited impatiently for it to be picked up.
"Darcy's. Manager speaking."
"Collins. Mr. Darcy, here. I need to speak to Ms. Bennet."
"She's occupied at the moment, sir."
"Oh." Darcy paused momentarily; he hadn't completely thought out what he was going to say before he called. "Tell her that I called."
"Yes, of course."
"And that I... I apologize."
"Yes..."
Darcy coughed, slightly embarrassed. "Tell her that she is doing a fine job - only she needs to work on her people skills a bit more - and that Pemberley values each and every of its employees. Yes, that will be all."
"Right away, sir. I completely understand."
And with that, Darcy felt a little better about himself. He wasn't that out of touch with his people. He didn't have to apologize; in fact, he really didn't see anything wrong with his conduct. But in the back of his mind, he could hear Georgiana's voice.
Sometimes you see a little aloof and distanced, William. I mean, I'm your sister and I know that you have a caring heart and a wonderful sense of humor, but a lot of people out there don't know you as well as I do. You just got to... I don't know, go out there and be more attentive, more optimistic, more concerned about other people's feelings. Do you get what I'm driving at?
"Why are you always right, little sister?" Darcy smiled to himself as he made his way to the nearest subway entrance.
Chapter 3
"Does this fabric look too gaudy? I mean the scarlet silk is beautiful, but the trimming seems to weigh down the whole thing. Do you think we would get Ralph or Calvin to come in and give us some input? You know how much I value their opinion."
"Of course, Ms. Darcy."
"Call me Georgiana, please."
"Of course, Ms. Darcy."
Georgiana rolled her eyes as her assistant, a temp, went in search of the correct phone numbers. She sighed and sat down on the stool to contemplate what her next move would be. They had been in the design studio since 7 in the morning, checking and re-evaluating the pieces that were going to be modeled at the Milan showcase in a few weeks. Usually this was one of the most enjoyable parts of her job, watching the design go from an idea on paper to something actual and tangible. But past moments like these had been enjoyed with Margaret Annesley, her former assistant and friend. But of last week she was married, living in Los Angeles, and - with this Georgiana had to sigh again - totally irreplaceable. How could she do without someone like Margaret?
The temp returned, dropping slips of paper in her haste to produce the phone numbers. Georgiana was about give up and go home for the day when her salvation came.
"Georgiana. Ms. Walters. How do you do this fine afternoon?" Richard came in with a gallant smile upon his face.
"Oh, thank god you're here."
"Ms. Walters, would you mind stepping out a minute?" The young girl blushed, nodded, and left.
Georgiana got up immediately and stretched out her arms while letting out a tremendously long yawn.
"Tiring day, cousin?" Richard wandered about the room and stopped in front of the drawing set upon the easel. "Why, this is quite good! The asymmetrical bias cut is very daring. Scarlet silk! Shocking!"
"Don't make fun of me, Richard."
"I wouldn't dream of it. Anyway, I was wondering why you're the only one here? Where are Rachel and Thomas and all the other designers?"
"You know I look after each showcase piece personally. I have to make sure each piece is perfect." She began to clean up the studio, placing the bolts of fabric on a table and the design plans in her briefcase. "And what brings you down here, Richard? Did William tell you to check up on me?"
"No, nothing like that. You just seemed a little stressed out with the show coming up and all. I'm worried, that's all."
"How very touching." Georgiana punched him lightly in the arm. "But seriously though, every show stresses me out. Nothing is different this time."
Richard nodded, knowingly. "Oh, but you're wrong. Margaret isn't here to help you this time."
Georgiana stopped her arranging. How did he know?
"What do you mean?" Her voice faltered a little.
"I know you miss her, Ana. There's no need to hide it."
"I'm not hiding anything. I just..." She paused, trying to think of the words to describe what she was feeling. "I just need someone, you know?"
He nodded knowingly, but she could tell he didn't have a clue as to what she was saying.
"Haven't you ever felt that way? Searching endlessly for someone that completes you. That supports and loves you because they do, and not just because they're family."
Richard gave her an amused look. "Are you looking for a lover, or a friend?"
Georgiana thought about it for a moment. "Both I suppose. But I suppose it's too much to ask for two people."
What did she want? She wanted someone to love - a handsome man with a beautiful smile and a great sense of humor. She wanted a sister - someone like Margaret - a friend to trust and bond with through tears and laughter.
Suddenly, Georgiana broke down into tears - not tears of sadness, but of frustration. She was happy for Margaret; she was even one of her bridesmaids. What it came down to was that she was alone again. And it didn't matter if William or Richard were there to comfort her; nothing compared to a real friend, someone who wasn't related and therefore wasn't required to care, someone to confide in, rely on. Nothing compared to the exhilaration a boyfriend could excite in a young girl's heart.
"Oh, Ana." He gave her a warm hug and she gladly accepted. "You'll find someone."
"The nerve of that man! God!"
Elisa ranted furiously as she made her way home. She carelessly stalked through the crowded sidewalk, daring anyone to tell her off. But no one did, which was a little disappointing for she had very much wanted a legitimate reason to vent her anger. Instead, Elisa stomped up the flight of stairs to her apartment, opened the door and slammed it shut with enough force to send shock waves throughout the building.
"That bastard. That stupid, little prat..."
She threw herself on her bed and began cursing loudly into a pillow, hoping the padding would muffle the banshee-like shrieks coming out of her mouth. After a few minutes of this, she grew tired of shouting and rolled over, staring up at the ceiling.
"What am I going to do?"
The room answered in silence: nothing could be done. And she knew this to be the truth. Fired. The word tasted foul in her mouth. That job had been everything; it was the only thing she had resembling monetary support, the only thing she had to look forward to, if it was indeed possible to look forward to serving people you thought were mindless fools. But no matter; now she was without a job, soon without any money, and then what? She would be evicted and then where would she live?
Elisa dragged herself to the kitchen to fix a cup of chamomile tea. Soon the fragrance of brewing chamomile, lemon, lavender flower and orange blossom was enough to calm her nerves, which were indeed on end. At the moment, she could not determine who she was to blame most: Collins for firing her, or Mr. I'd-like-to-shove-you-off-your-high-horse Darcy for ordering her dismissal. She decided she hated Darcy more, and was not about to let him go about his days without knowing how he had ruined her.
The next morning she awoke early, her mind already set on what she was going to do. Elisa dressed in her best clothes, a semi-expensive dark gray pantsuit she had bought a few years ago exclusively for business interviews. Pulling her hair back in clips, she admired the illusion of wealth and importance she had managed to pull off. Even though she was of simple background, she knew that the doormen of Pemberley would never let in a bedraggled looking youth, that Mr. Darcy would never take seriously a t-shirt and jeans-wearing girl from California.
The next step was to actually get to Pemberley. That proved to be no difficulty, though. The magnificent building stood proudly, gleaming with gilded gold and intricate floral designs in the cream-colored stone. Although it was not the tallest building on the block, it was by far the most beautiful and most admired. Elisa let out an appreciative sigh as she took her first look of the place. What she wouldn't give to work there. But as immediately as those thoughts surfaced, she shook them out for she had other more important things to think about, like what she was going to say to this Mr. Darcy.
"Good morning, miss." The doorman gallantly held the door open for Elisa. She stopped suddenly, startled at such an act of kindness. Who had ever held the door open for her before? No one; she had always had to do everything for herself.
"Thank you." She walked in, but then turned back on a whim. "What is you name, sir?"
It was the doorman's turn to give a look of surprise. "Edward Gardiner, miss."
"It was very nice to meet you, Mr. Gardiner. My name is Elisabeth Bennet. I wanted you to know that you're doing an excellent job."
"Why, thank you."
Elisa left him with a smile on her face. I bet that man has never heard a kind word like that before, especially from that horrid Mr. Darcy. She mused on this thought while striding past the security guards and into the elevator with a look of purpose on her face. She was sure that no one would bat an eyelash if she looked like she belonged there; they wouldn't dare question her right to be there, correct? Elisa hoped this theory held true because she didn't want to be made the fool two days in a row. That was two days too many.
Chapter 4
"Good morning, Mr. Darcy. You're looking good today, considering."
"Thank you, Hannah. You have the files?" Darcy bustled down the hall past his assistant, holding out an expectant hand. An unexpected merger between two of the largest computer software corporations last night had left the city of New York in disarray, and Darcy could practically feel the terror in the air, taste the upheaval and chaos. Some of his most important investors had bought stock in those companies under his recommendations, and now what was he to say them. "I'm sorry you lost millions, better luck next time"? Impossible.
"Right here, sir. Your coffee?"
"No thank you, I'm working on pure adrenaline today. Send Bingley in here as soon as possible. And call in Richard. I'll need the moral support."
"Right away, sir!"
Darcy settled into this deck chair with a sort of exaggerated flourish, a mix of despair and bitterness. Why did those companies have to merge today? And those particular companies, of all companies! Are they trying to destroy me? Bingley came in, huffing as a result of ascending several flights of stairs. He had tried the elevator, but it would not stop at his floor and he decided the merger madness was an issue deserving immediate attention.
"You called me, Darce?" Bingley rested gratefully in a chair, his breathing now beginning to regain a normal rhythm.
After a long silence, Darcy got up and walked to the window. "What do you make of all this?" he asked, finally. There was a tone of sternness in his voice, tinged with a slight hint of defeat.
"Nothing that can't be fixed, I'm sure. Both Whitman and Skylar promised allocations to their stockholders, some compensatory funds, a sort of thank-you. They reported on CNN that this won't upset the Market enough to cause a significant point decrease."
Darcy shook his head regretfully. Ah, Charles. Always the eternal optimist.
"That's not the point, Bingley. That is not what troubles me."
"Then what, Darce? I'm sure the investors won't be angry with you. You could have hardly foreseen this merger as the rest of Wall Street could have. No one knew it had happen until it happened. End of story. Buck up, man. Tomorrow will be better, you'll see."
"The point is not the money. I don't care so much about the money as I do about our reputation. Pemberley's reputation! We'll be forever branded as the stockbrokerage with the most incompetent employees this side of Manhattan. I should have seen this coming. I should have seen it... Kingston will be furious with me. You know how he gets."
"I don't think I'm that incompetent, thank you very much." Richard sniffed, mocking hurt. He entered the room looking the picture of calmness.
"That's because you're not in this department." Bingley looked up.
Richard smiled confidently. "Pemberley is not ruined, Darcy. No one is going to think you've failed him. Every single firm out there has got the at least the same amount of money invested in those stocks as you have, and they're all in the same situation. You're not alone."
Darcy did not view the situation with as much confidence as Richard seemed to have.
"And if worse comes to worse, you'll always have my and Georgiana's departments to back you up." Richard began to laugh, but Darcy failed to find the humor in the situation. Outcomes were going to be uncertain, and backlash was indeed going to be substantial. "Calm down, Darce. You look positively agitated. Here," Richard opened the office door and pushed Darcy out, "Take the day off, okay?"
Darcy gave him a doubtful look.
"For me? Please. Bingley will handle everything while you're gone."
"Well..."
Both Richard and Bingley gave him a pointed look. They both knew a distracted Darcy was useless to work with. If Darcy wasn't focused on what needed to be done, on the solution instead of the problem, then it was pointless trying to reason with him.
"Okay. But if I hear that - " He shook a finger authoritatively, but the door was closed in his face before he could finish. "Idiots," he muttered resentfully, but a smile crept upon his face. A day off? Actually, that doesn't sound too bad.
He made his way down the main corridor leading towards the elevators, but midway he stopped before he reached his assistant's desk. At a distance he observed Hannah conversing with a pretty brunette - who he immediately recognized as the girl from the coffee-shop. She was gesturing wildly with her hands, her eyes full of fire and passion. Whatever she was saying was making her more and more irritated and annoyed. Darcy stepped a little closer so he could overhear the conversation.
"I am sorry, miss, but Mr. Darcy is currently busy right now. Do you have an appointment?"
"No, I don't. But I need to speak with him immediately." She tapped nervously on the desk with her fingers.
"As I said before, he is engaged in important business matters right now. But if you wish to set an appointment, I may be able to squeeze you in tomorrow, lunch."
"Tomorrow?" The girl hesitated briefly. "Yes, I guess that would be fine then."
Hannah typed rapidly on her computer, pulling menus and menus of scheduling lists and appointment files. "You name, please?"
"Elisabeth Bennet," she replied impatiently.
A few seconds later, Hannah handed her a slip of paper. "Noon. Chanterelle. Harrison St. and Hudson St. He'll be there with several business companions but I will be sure to remind him to give you a few minutes time."
The girl folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket, a petulant expression upon her face. "Thank you for your help, Ms. Reynolds," she said, with as much feigned sincerity as she could muster. As Elisa turned to leave, Darcy emerged from his hiding spot and walked alongside her down the hall. Eventually she noticed him as they waited together for the elevator to stop at their floor. The doors opened with a loud ring.
"Going down?" She asked, stepping in. The rest of the elevator car was completely packed with other employees.
"Yes." Darcy stepped on, nudging himself between her and another man. The other passengers looked at him with confused eyes. What was Mr. Darcy doing on their elevator in the middle of the morning during a Wall Street crisis? But no one dared to ask him. They did not even dare to look in his direction; rather, they turned their attention to a close-by newspaper or inspected their impeccable leather shoes.
It was several minutes before the elevator reached the first floor. Every time the doors open onto a new floor Darcy had to get out first to allow others behind him to get out on their stop. But on this particular elevator ride he didn't mind so much the constant getting out and getting in; he was enjoying every chance he had to lightly brush against this strangely fascinating woman, he didn't think of moving farther back into the elevator car to avoid inconveniencing the other passengers. She didn't seem to notice, or so he thought.
When the elevator did finally reach the ground floor, Elisa exited quickly without looking at anyone else. He followed just as quickly, intrigued for no reasonable reason other than he had nothing really better to do. And that, for reasons unbeknownst to himself, every touch of her skin on that elevator ride, however so brief, left his fingers tingling.
She walked purposefully to the end of the block and waited for the light to change so she could cross the street. Then, to his surprise, she stopped and spoke without turning her head.
"Why are you following me?"
Darcy sputtered, half-laughed, and was then proceeded to be run over by an out-of-control bicyclist.
Chapter 5
"Do you think he's okay?"
"Should we call an ambulance? Oh wait... I think he just moved."
"Move out of the way!"
Darcy slowly opened his eyes, unsure of what had happened. Everything appeared to be clothed in some kind of perpetual cheesecloth. Faces were blurry and movements seemed like slow motion. The sunlight seemed usually bright, like he had emerged from a dark room into the blinding light, and he lifted a bruised hand to his face to shield his eyes. The one thing he was sure of was his head was definitely hurting.
As his vision began to clear, he noticed that he was lying on the concrete and people were around him. And there was someone kneeling beside him. A woman, perhaps? She was gently slapping at his face to gets his attention. Slowly the din of voices began to thin and he could understand what the fuss was all about.
"Oh my god, what if he dies? My wife will kill me, she'll simply kill me!"
"Don't have a cow, he got hit by a bicycle, not a car. He's not dead."
"But still..."
"I'M FINE."
To his surprise, and to the gathering observers' surprise as well, he not only managed to survive, but he was talking; it looked like he had taken a pretty good hit to the head. A few people left now that it was confirmed that he wasn't dead; they were hoping for some media coverage: "Man Hit By Bicycle Dies, story page A2" or something of the like.
Darcy got up shakily, leaning a little on the woman that was slapping him earlier. When he looked over, he realized that it was that intriguing Ms. Bennet. He immediately let go of her arm, like he was committing a crime for touching her now when in the elevator he had taken liberties without her permission.
"Okay people, nothing to see here. Now clear out!" She said. The small crowd began to disperse.
"How are you holding up?" She turned to him with a smile on her face.
"My head feels like it's going to fall off." He replied, a smile on the edge of his lips. But his head hurt too much to make a decent effort.
"Good. You deserve it."
The crosswalk sign had just changed and she began to cross the street. Darcy stood for a minute, confused and then shocked. He chased her clumsily, seeing as his vision was still a bit hazy.
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" He sidled up, barely reaching the sidewalk before the onslaught of cars rushed behind him.
"Exactly what I said. If you had kept following me, I was sure to spray you with pepper spray. And I've heard that it's not too pleasant a feeling."
"And now?"
"With luck, you might get hit by a car next time. And then I won't have to do anything at all."
Darcy smiled one of his rarely seen smiles, but she was too far up ahead to witness this miraculous show of emotion.
"What's your name?" She asked as he pulled alongside her again. Elisa had not the faintest idea why this man continued to follow her, but she did not mind it nearly as much as she had before he got run over. In fact, she felt a little pity. There was something to him that seemed non-threatening. And it didn't hurt that he was devastatingly handsome.
"William."
"William what?"
Darcy was surprised that she had not recognized him from the beginning. Hadn't she been looking for him earlier that morning? Then it hit him: she had no idea who he was. Well, that presented too many enticing possibilities... he didn't want to ruin his opportunity to make something of it.
"Oh, just William."
"So you only have one name? Like Prince or Cher. How very singular."
In this she found humor, but Darcy did not understand that his unwillingness to revel his identity made him seem even more pretentious. Elisa turned into a nearby subway station, taking care not to step in the greasy puddles of unsanitary water that dotted the stairwell. She paused expectantly at the bottom of the staircase for her new acquaintance to follow, which he did almost automatically.
"Well, Billy."
"It's William."
She didn't bat an eyelash. "William," she corrected herself, grinning. "I'm going to have a coffee up on 50th. If you intend to join me there, please let me know now."
"Is that an invitation?"
"I'm only asking because if you did happen to join me, we could walk together side by side instead of two paces apart like stalker and victim. But I'm only asking."
Darcy then realized how this must have appeared to her. He, a man with wealth beyond dreams, following (or stalking as the case may be) her through the streets of New York.
"I suppose I haven't introduced myself properly."
"No, other than your name is William and that you like to 'follow' people."
"I'm sorry if I'm scaring you. I hardly do this ever."
"Hmm?"
He shifted uncomfortably under her stare, which was odd because he was rarely intimidated by anyone. "I saw you at Pemberley..."
"I figured as much."
"And I wanted to..." He tried to think up of some feasible reason why he was so determined to reach her. It had to be something other than he felt something when she was near, because that would definitely scare her away. And the thought of her walking away at that moment seemed like the most devastating thing that could possibly happen to him. Darcy couldn't understand why he felt that way, but the feeling was there. "... ask you out for lunch," he finished lamely.
Elisa nodded, delighted at his nervousness. "Well, I hardly do this, either." She stepped into the subway train that had just pulled up to the station.
"What?" He hurriedly stepped in before the doors shut.
"Accept dates from stranger. But for you, I'll make an exception."
Chapter 6
The sidewalks were nearly empty, which was to be expected in the middle of the workday. She walked quickly, maneuvering in and out of parked cars and small side roads. He followed as fast as he could, but he had to admit she was definitely a much better walker than he was. Not to say that he was out of shape, because he wasn't; but years of traveling by chauffeured automobile didn't give him the greatest of street-smart instincts.
"Come on. What's taking you so long?" she jeered as she held open a door to a café at the end of the block. Darcy tried his best to hurry it up, but she disappeared behind the door before he could reach her. Staring at the all-too-familiar green emblem on the door, he pushed in and found her waiting for him at the counter.
"Vanilla Frappuccino. You?"
"Latte. Small."
She turned to the glass display case next to the counter. "And a lemon bar."
"That'll be $7.53, please," the cashier said as the total rang up.
"You're paying, right?" Elisa beamed a huge smile at Darcy. He assented and took out his wallet to pay the man. She took the plate that held her lemon bar to a table near the window and sat down, waiting for him to pick up their coffees.
"I don't even really like coffee." She whispered conspiratorially as he sat down across from her. "But for a Starbuck's Vanilla Frap, I'll do just about anything."
"Really?" He mused on this for a while. It was certainly amusing that she had picked this place out considering that there was a Darcy's down the street. He stared grimly at his cardboard cup and took a tentative sip. He felt like she was betraying her own country and he was there right alongside her having coffee with the enemy.
"So, to half-day's, then?" She joked when he didn't say anything. "Doesn't Mr. Darcy mind that you're leaving in the middle of the day. Well, actually, it's earlier than that."
"He doesn't," Darcy simply replied. Elisa looked up at him, amusement upon her face.
"Really?" She asked incredulously. "That's a shocker. I thought he had you all locked up ball-and-chain. I pictured him the leather-clad, whip-wielding slave master and all his employees his slaves!"
A sort of hardness suffused his expressions, but to this Elisa was oblivious. "It's hardly like that, I assure you."
She shrugged it off and started to pick at her pastry. "Whatever. When it comes down to bare facts, I think we can both agree that Mr. Darcy is just begging for his a** to be kicked."
"What?!" Darcy attempted to hold his temper in check, otherwise he could reveal himself. And up to now, he was having a lot of fun.
"That arrogant jerk got me fired yesterday! And do you know how?"
"No," Darcy choked out quietly.
"Yesterday, he came into the Darcy's where I used to work - in fact it's that same Darcy's down the street - with this holier-that-thou attitude, like he owns the place - which he does, but how was I supposed to know that? Anyway, being the idiot I am, I didn't know who he was. I mean, how do you recognize a person with sunglasses on?"
"And?" He asked, definitely interested in how this had anything to do with her current unemployment.
"I was a bit rude to him." He secretly smiled at this. "I would have gladly apologized after, but I couldn't after what he did."
"What did he do?"
"He called my employer and had me fired. Can you believe the nerve of that man? I spent two years of my life there, and I bet he didn't even consider that or care!" Elisa slammed down her cup on the table in anger. Darcy thought about this for a while. What on earth was she talking about? If he could recall correctly, he had done no such thing yesterday. Why, then, was she blaming him for something he obviously didn't do?
"I didn't - " he started, but then caught himself. "I mean, I know Darcy would never do a thing like that."
She took a long, careful look of consideration. "You really work there, then? I mean, at Pemberley?"
"Yes, I do."
"Know him well? Can pick him out of a crowd?" She continued questioning.
"Of course, but what - "
"Great then, we're agreed." She interrupted before he could finish.
Darcy looked confused. "Agreed on what?"
"That I'm taking you to lunch tomorrow, that's what. Chanterelle. Noon."
He shot her a blank stare.
"You're going to be my look out." She stated.
Darcy shook his head, waiting for her to elucidate. Elisa rolled her eyes.
"You're going to point this Mr. Darcy out to me at the restaurant. I hardly got a look at him yesterday, and I certainly can't go traipsing amongst the diners asking if they're William Darcy. It'll make me look unprofessional." She explained, like it made all the sense in the world.
"Couldn't you get one of the waiters to help you?" He asked, clearly not liking the idea of him standing in the middle of a restaurant calling out his own name, looking like an idiot. She was pretty, but she wasn't that pretty.
"Are you saying you don't want to help me?" Elisa arched her eyebrows attractively in a mock expression being insulted.
"I didn't say that."
"Then it's settled."
She gave him a satisfied smile and took a bite out of the lemon bar. Darcy quietly sat back and sipped his coffee, wondering to himself what the hell he had gotten himself into this time.
Chapter 7
The warm autumn sun rose early that day, shedding the city in its rays of light. The birds were chirping happily, oblivious to the fact that something was amiss. A faint breeze rustled the leaves of the trees outside his window as Darcy sat, awake since sunrise, drinking his morning tea. For some reason he had awoken in the middle of the night with a great sense of foreboding. And since then, he had been tossing and turning until he figured that that was about as much sleep as he was going to get so trying harder wasn't going to help. Darcy wasn't sure why he felt so anxious. Was it that he knew today beheld the inevitable meeting/clash/fiasco with a certain young lady? No, it couldn't be that, could it? Was it the sudden stock market crisis from yesterday that was bothering him? Yes, that's it. That's what's bothering me, he thought to himself, and nodded as if that made it all the more true.
The rest of the morning passed without much incidence. Bingley was rightly optimistic: the shareholders were happy with the monetary allocations made by the merging companies, no one conveying any deep-seated feelings of animosity. Even Kingston didn't pay a visit or leave an angry sounding phone message, which was a huge relief to Darcy because he didn't think he'd be able to handle Kingston this early in the morning, what with his mind on other matters.
"Davis brought round the car, Mr. Darcy. Shall I tell him you'll be straight down?"
Hannah entered his office, interrupting his thoughts. He had been drumming his fingers absentmindedly on his desk for the past half hour trying to think up some viable excuse to not show up at Chanterelle's at noon. However, none came. He couldn't just forget to turn up at a lunch meeting with several important investors and business co-workers, a meeting that had been arranged weeks in advance. He would never hear the end of it from Hannah, who prided herself on keeping him on track and running things smoothly.
"Sure. I'll be ready in a minute." Darcy grabbed his briefcase before heading out.
The ride to the restaurant seemed unusually short, and before he had a chance to change his mind and get back into the car, Davis had sped off. Darcy forced a tight smile to his lips, willing the feelings of dread to disappear. Something bad was going to happen; he could just feel it.
When he walked into the building, he glanced around hoping that for some reason, any reason, she couldn't make it. Why had he promised to come? It was something in the way she looked at him when she talked, an inflection in her voice, that made him want to do whatever she bid. And so, yesterday at the coffee shop, he had promised he would meet her at the restaurant in order to prep her for the conversation she was going to have with, well... with him, as it turned out.
For a brief moment he felt something akin to relief as the room held no account of her presence. Maybe she had gotten the wrong address? He could only hope, but in vain. At that exact moment, Elisa appeared at his side, smiling. She was wearing a knee-length navy skirt, a cream-colored blouse, and heels that made her inches taller and, if was indeed possible, more imposing.
"Hello Billy." She hooked her arm into his and began to pull him inside the dining area.
"It's William." He replied automatically, but so softly she hadn't heard. Instead, he was concentrating on her feet as she dragged him along, the clicking of her heels upon the tile sending him into a sort of trance. He was wondering how hard she'd be able to kick him in those shoes. Probably really hard. He grimaced.
He followed stiffly as she led him over to a table in the corner of the room. It was already set for two and a waiter stood nearby, apparently waiting for them to be seated. Evidently, she had arrived much earlier than he did to arrange all of this.
"How did you get reservations?" He asked as he pulled out her chair. She paused slightly as this act of kindness, but sat down immediately trying to make it seem that people had pulled out her chair millions of times before and it was no big deal. Darcy noticed that she was uncomfortable, but didn't say anything. Even in times of inevitable danger, he had not forgotten to act the gentleman.
After taking a slight glance in the direction of the waiter, she whispered in a low voice. "I called and told them I was a food critic from New York magazine and that we were doing another 'Best of NY' edition. They wanted a chance to redeem themselves, I think."
"Genius," Darcy found himself saying, despite his growing fear that his charade would be found out any minute now.
"Shall I tell the chefs you're ready, Ms. Bennet?" The waiter now interrupted, looking exactly what Darcy was feeling, but for a completely different reason. He glanced back at the door leading to the kitchen. Elisa looked in the same direction and saw that several chefs were staring at her nervously through the glass window. She nodded yes. The waiter made a signal with his hand, and suddenly the restaurant seemed to spring to life. He then left the couple alone to attend to other customers, although reluctantly.
"Fantastic, isn't it?" Elisa flashed him a great smile. "I've got lunch covered, and now all I have to do is get this meeting with Mr. Darcy over, and then I can go home."
Darcy stared at the lemon in his glass of water. "What exactly do you intend to accomplish through this meeting?"
She stopped for a moment, as if she had never considered this before. "I guess I want to make him see that he was grossly mistaken in firing me. That even though I don't work at Pemberley, I work for Pemberley and deserve as much respect as anyone else. And that I want my job back."
"You want to be back at Darcy's again?"
"Well, no, not really. But I can't ask for much more. I mean, he'd never hire me to work at Pemberley, now would he? I just want things back the way they were." Elisa thoughtfully chewed at a piece of bread she took from the small basket on the table. "I need this job. I had it for two years already, and he had no right in taking it from me. No right at all."
"Oh." He accidentally knocked over the briefcase that he had set at the foot of his chair. She looked down to locate the source of the sound, and then looked up with a confused expression. Darcy held his breath. She knew something; he was sure of it. She's just waiting for the perfect time to strike.
"Wait a minute. I know where I recognize you from..." She started, now looking thoughtfully at his face.
Uh-oh. Here is comes.
"You're him. That man."
Darcy closed his eyes in preparation for a physical attack.
"That man that was standing outside Darcy's a few days ago. You were waiting across the street with that briefcase, but you didn't come in." She smiled, proud of herself for having such an acute memory.
He opened his eyes quickly. "Yes, I am." He couldn't believe his luck.
"Why didn't you come in?" She asked.
He didn't know how to respond. Darcy attempted a surreptitious glance behind himself to check if anyone he knew was coming through the door. It was past noon now and someone was bound to figure out whom he was, even if it wasn't her first. Elisa noticed he wasn't paying attention to her and followed his line of vision.
"Do you see him? Is he here?" She became slightly excited.
"No, I - " But he suddenly broke off. At that moment, into Chanterelle walked Richard, Kingston, and Georgiana. His worst fear at that moment was going to be realized. And he wasn't even sure why he was afraid in the first place. It's not like he cared about her, right? He barely knew her, and she hated him with a passion - although she had no idea he was this "Mr. Darcy" she kept referring to.
"Hey William," a voice called. Darcy knew it was Richard, and tried to ignore it. He called again, this time louder.
"I think he's talking to you." She waved the trio over unwittingly. He lowered his head into his hands. "Friends of yours?" He nodded weakly as they made their way over to their table.
"Darce, why didn't you tell me you were inviting a date? I could have asked Cybelle out. She loves the grilled sea bass here." Richard greeted them, smiling.
"We're going to need a much bigger table than this, William. Where are we going to fit Sherwood and Fletcher on this little thing?" Kingston made a show of wiping the table with his finger. "Acceptable," he stated, inspecting his finger for any dust.
Elisa sat back, utterly confused. "Wait a minute, who's 'Darce'?"
Darcy tentatively raised his hand in acknowledgment, all the while staring into his lap. Her cheerful countenance gradually turned into one of understanding, resentment and hatred.
"'Darce' as in Darcy?" She asked, her voice rising.
"Why, of course." Kingston looked at her stupidly. "Who'd you think he was?"
Elisa got up immediately to leave. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she would be played by the same Mr. Darcy she now so grotesquely despised. He had gotten the best of her, again. It would not be tolerated. She could feel a blush coming over her, one of anger and embarrassment. She could bear being toyed with if it were a blatant show of mockery - at least she could defend herself in the open - but to be tricked, to be played so underhandedly. That was something her humility could not stand.
"I believe I'll be leaving now. So, if you'll excuse me."
"Wait." Darcy rose to stop her.
"Don't you even speak to me." Her voice was now loud enough to attract attention from the other customers. "First you humiliate me at work, fire me after I've worked for you for two years out of my life, and now you're playing mind games?"
"But - "
"Grow up." She turned away hastily, but not before he grabbed her arm in a futile attempt to stop her.
"Elisa - "
"It's Ms. Bennet to you! And now, if you would kindly let go of my arm." She took his hand with her other and shoved it back at him like he had the plague. She was too angry to even walk straight. Darcy fumed silently under the curious stares of several diners and his lunch companions.
"Who was that?" Richard asked after a few seconds of shocked silence.
Darcy hesitated, trying to understand why he felt obligated to that woman, why he, for the first time in his life, actually felt bad for doing something to someone. He shook his head violently and promised himself to worry about it no longer. "Nobody." He replied finally.
But in his mind, all he could hear was the furious tapping of her heels on the tile, walking away from him.
Chapter 8
Three weeks had passed since that horrifying encounter at the restaurant, and still Elisa couldn't shake the feelings of abject horror, humiliation, and anger. She had never been that embarrassed in her life - well, maybe one or two incidents in the past, but nothing that she could recall with certainty that it wasn't just an exaggeration of what really had happened. And what made it worse was that she had trusted him. Granted, she had only known him for less than 24 hours, but it still hurt that this unassuming gentleman turned out to be a cold-hearted jerk who liked to play tricks on people who had more important things to worry about.
And for some reason, Elisa just couldn't let it go. Forget it. Move on.
"God, my head is killing me."
She laid in her bed, staring at the clock on the nightstand. It was three in the afternoon on a weekday. And she was still out of a job. It hadn't troubled her the first few days of unemployment, but now with the month anniversary of her untimely departure of Darcy's coming up, it was becoming increasingly worrisome. Elisa had sworn to herself never to beg anyone for a job, especially Darcy, or even worse, Collins. It was her stubbornness to never degrade herself in that way that ultimately made the situation worse for her.
Elisa finally rolled out of bed for the first time that day. Waking up late was the only upside to being unemployed. But the downsides far outweighed the upside, and she had to sigh pitifully. It just seemed that no one was looking for a new employee. She had tried, really she had.
"Where's the aspirin?" She mumbled, scrounging along the floor before finding an empty Bayer's bottle. "Damnit."
She pulled on her jeans, tied her hair up in a messy tail, and headed out the door with a heavy coat, keys, and a five-dollar bill. She was grateful that she was sensible to start a savings account two years ago when she started working in the first place. She didn't have that much money, but enough for the moment, at least. Thank god for small mercies, anyway.
Elisa walked to the nearest Duane Reade on the next block. She had always been fascinated by the pharmacy when she arrived in New York two years ago. Whenever she turned the corner, there would be another Duane Reade location, oblivious to that fact that there was another one a minute away; it was like Starbuck's in that aspect.
Actually, everything about New York still fascinated her. Being a California girl, born and bred, the city seemed to possess so much excitement and mystery that she had longed for since she was a child. Moving to the "Big Apple" had been a dream since she was little, a part of her big plan in life which included living in London and Sydney, getting married and having 1.5 kids and the perfect little house with the perfect husband.
The pharmacy was oddly comforting, like nothing bad could happen to anyone in there. The aisles were pristine, the windows sparkling, and all the boxes of medicine lined up in perfectly linear rows. What she liked was the sense of order in all of it. Everything had a place and a purpose. Everything made sense.
"Excuse me, could you help me find the toothpaste?" A voice asked, in a velvety smooth British accent. She turned as a pretty little redheaded girl approached her. Elisa pointed her in the right direction and went off to find her bottle of aspirin. A few minutes later and they met again at the cash register.
"You from around here?" Elisa asked as she put down her bottle and five-dollar bill. The cashier handed her back her change and she waited for the other girl to pay.
"No. How can you tell?" She set down her small load of toothpaste, toothbrush, floss, Kleenex, and sugarless gum and paid with a wrinkly ten.
"You just seem new. Oh, and the accent was a dead giveaway, too." Elisa smiled cheekily, and the other girl did the same. It was at that moment, they both knew they were going to be great friends. Elisa waited for her to collect her things before they exited the pharmacy together.
"What part of England are you from?"
"A little town outside London called Meryton. But it's so close to the city, I usually say London to make it easier for everyone.... And you? Are you from New York?"
"Oh, god no!" Elisa laughed. "Do I seem like it? I moved out here in '96 from southern California. I've been here for a bit over four years, but it feels much shorter than that. I'm still a newbie in so many ways."
They walked together down the sidewalk together, chatting amiably. The oncoming winter still seemed a long way off, and the city was caught in an unusual warm spell. However, the tree-lined street was gradually sprinkled with fallen leaves and every now and then a chilling breeze swept by, reminding the city dwellers that winter was indeed coming soon. They soon came to a stop at the front of Elisa's building.
"Well, this is where I get off. You?"
"I live across the street. We're neighbors! How fantastic."
"I'm Elisabeth, by the way. But you can call me Elisa."
"Nice to meet you Elisa. I'm Janine-Rachelle."
"Janine-Rachelle?" Elisa questioned, amused.
"My mum had a thing for long names. I didn't really ask her about it."
"Can I call you Jay-Ray?" Elisa asked playfully.
Janine responded, good-humoredly. "No one has before, but you can be the first."
Elisa smiled broadly, and Janine did as well.
"I've got the tea on, if you'd like to join me in a cuppa." Janine offered politely.
"That would be lovely."
After several hours of genial talking and many cups of strong lemon tea, Elisa and Janine easily became fast friends. And for the first time in four years, Elisa almost felt that she could trust someone with her past, a past that had haunted her all those years and was the real reason why she was desperate to leave California after graduation. But she couldn't trust anyone, at least not yet. But Janine was so friendly, so genuine a good person that Elisa promised one day she would tell her. It wouldn't be fair to keep it all bottled inside, when she felt at every moment of everyday she would burst if she did not tell anyone else her secret. All she needed was the right person and the right time.
It hurt so much, but she couldn't let it go.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, Elisa started crying. A little a first, but soon it escalated into painful sobs. Janine, not knowing the source of the tears, could only comfort her with soothing words. And at that moment, Elisa knew immediately they were kindred spirits. She had never before cried in front of strangers, but with Janine it seemed okay.
"Oh, god I'm sorry I brought all this on you. And it's only your second week in the States!" Elisa lightly laughed, wiping the last vestige of tears off her face. "It's just that I've been having a rough time these past couple of weeks..."
"What happened?" Janine asked, genuinely concerned.
"I lost my job, and so far I haven't been able to find another. A few more weeks of this, and I'll probably have to move back with my parents. I've never been out of a job this long!"
"Oh no. It can't be that bad."
"I'm afraid it is."
A bitter and defeated look appeared on Elisa's face. And even though Janine had known her for not even twenty-four hours, she knew that that look was not one that was usual to Elisa.
"Well, I may be able to help."
"Really?" Elisa brightened considerably.
"My dad managed to secure me an internship where he works. He did mention a couple of openings available - real paying jobs, not just internships. Maybe, if you'll join me, we could head down there Monday morning and see if we can't find you something to do."
"Oh, that would be great!" Elisa jumped up and enveloped Janine is a grateful hug.
But in her haste of excitement, she forgot to ask one important question: where exactly would she be working?
Chapter 9
"You're kidding me, right?" Elisa said loudly as they got out of the taxi on Wall St.
It was early Monday morning and, as promised, Janine brought her along to her work. The streets were already bustling with men in dark suits, carrying leather briefcases and holding cell phones the size of her palm to their ears - apparently they all shopped at the same stores - even though the NYSE had not yet rung the bell signaling the opening of the market. No one seemed to notice the pair of them standing on the sidewalk, obviously out of place in their nice and colorful, yet definitely out of place skirts and cardigans.
"No, why would I be kidding you?" Janine looked up happily at the beautiful cream-colored building. It was her first day at her new internship and she was delighted. "Isn't this place fantastic..."
"This is Pemberley." Elisa stated the obvious.
"And?"
"Pemberley." She repeated, as if she couldn't make it any clearer.
"I still don't understand."
"I told you about Darcy's and Pemberley and the whole lunch fiasco with Mr. Darcy. How could you take me here, of all places?" Elisa asked, frantically.
"Wait a minute. You said you were desperate and needed a job. I work here. And as it happens, they're looking to hire here too, okay? I did you a favor, now come on."
"Uh-unh." Elisa stood her ground. "I am not going in there. No way, not after what happened."
"Don't be silly! Come on now, you'll make me late for my first day. And I'm not going in there unless you're with me. We had a deal." Janine pulled on her arm and finally Elisa relented.
Oh god. I'll take anything. I'll be the janitor, for all I care. Just please please don't let him see me - that odious Mr. Darcy. I'll take anything just as long as I don't have to have contact with him. Please...
"Fine." Elisa said while being dragged in. "But I am not begging."
"I'm sure you won't have to beg."
"But I don't even have a college degree." Elisa protested.
"So what. This is business. You'll win them over with your brilliant smile. Now show Janine your best 'Please-hire-me' smile."
Elisa offered a tentative, nervous smile.
"Well, you still have your wonderful people skills..."
"Oh Jay, you've only known me for four days. You haven't even seen me interact with other human beings! What do you know about my people skills?" Elisa jumped into the elevator, which was surprisingly empty.
"Really Elisabeth! With that attitude, no one's going to hire you." Janine scolded in a motherly fashion.
They breathed twin sighs of admiration as they exited the elevator onto the tenth floor, the Personnel Department. The whole floor was simply exquisite, very modern but done with excruciating attention to detail. Leather sofas lined one side of the room facing the windows, arranged around chic coffee tables and inventive floral centerpieces. Everything looked so high-tech and expensive, Elisa feared that she would make a wrong move somehow ruin the effect - a strange mixture of coldness and warmth in the almost garish metal contrasting with the very humanness of the employees bustling about.
"I have to speak to Ms. Bingley, first. She is the head of this department. Why don't you have a seat?" Janine calmly said. "I'll be back in a minute."
She sat down quickly, finding refuge in the deep recessed of the leather-covered cushions. She had never known such finery as this - leather sofas in an office, no less! - and attempted to savor each minute as long as she was there. The smooth, cool leather smelled expensive, dreadfully expensive. Elisa wondered to herself how anyone could resist lounging in the sofas all day and instead concentrate on working. It must take extraordinary conviction, she thought, amused.
Jane disappeared into the back office, led by a wealthy-looking tall, willowy brunette, leaving Elisa alone and apprehensive that at any moment he would appear and throw her out. She knew she was being absurd, but the last thing she wanted was to have him see her trying to get a job with her meager qualifications at his illustrious corporation. For the life of her, Elisa could not remember a time where she was more nervous about a job interview. If McDonald's wouldn't even hire her, why would Pemberley? A few suit clad men and women passed by, eagerly discussing business matters. Suddenly, Elisa had the notion the up and run out, after Janine had not reappeared for a good twenty minutes, when someone stopped her dead in her tracks.
"Ms. Elisabeth Bennet?" A voice asked.
She turned slowly to the owner of the voice, but was relieved to find that it wasn't the man she was dreading to meet.
"Yes. Excuse me, but do I know you?" She looked over him, trying to place the wavy chestnut hair, sparkling green eyes and handsome smile. She was sure she had seen him before, but where?
"Do forgive me. I am Richard Fitzwilliam. We have never been officially introduced before nor have we ever met, but I have been thinking a lot about you recently."
"Really?" She smiled, intrigued. "How so?"
"Well, you see. I had the fortune of running into you and my cousin William several weeks ago, where you made quite a startling scene as we arrived."
Elisa groaned inwardly.
"Suffice it to say, we were all left in curiosity after you departed so hastily, except for my cousin who speaks nothing of the incident. But since then, I have been utterly intrigued at who this young lady - by this, I mean you - was and where she conjured the audacity to yell at William Darcy. I say, bravo!"
Elisa did not know what to say as the gentleman began shaking her hand heartily. She readily accepted his congratulations, but did not know what to make of it.
"I thank you, sir, for forgiving me in my conduct towards your cousin. I, for one, am greatly ashamed I acted so childishly. And although I dislike - nay hate - Mr. Darcy immensely, I should not have caused such a scene as you say I did."
"Do not be ashamed, Ms. Bennet." Richard responded with frivolity. "For it was dreadfully amusing. And I'm sure Darce deserved a great set down for whatever he did to cause you injury."
Elisa was gratified that he did not seem a bit upset with her.
"Are you looking for job, Ms. Bennet?" He asked, somewhat seriously.
"Call me Elisa. And yes, I am. I was suppose to be interviewed by Ms. Bingley about ten minutes ago... But my friend Janine has been in there for a while."
Richard's face brightened at a sudden idea. He smiled broadly and Elisa had to wonder what he was thinking about that amused him so greatly. She was sure it had to be some devious plan, the way he kept grinning and scheming.
"What are you thinking, sir?"
"Call me Richard, Elisa."
"Well, Richard?"
"Follow me, if you would."
He abruptly turned and held the elevator doors open for her to enter. Elisa followed him into the crowded elevator car, utterly confused. Her first instinct was to ignore him completely, but he had treated her so well so far, smiling and full of good humor, that she could not help but like him.
"Would you mind telling me where we're going?" She asked as the elevator went up, gradually losing passengers along the way.
But all he did was smile, enigmatically. "You're perfect, absolutely perfect."
Chapter 10
It had been ten minutes, and Elisa was tenser than ever. Richard had led her up fourteen floors and all but abandoned her in an empty studio office. He said nary a word explaining why he was taking her where he did. He just left her alone, saying that he would return with someone else in a minute.
The studio was amazing, she admitted, on closer inspection. The tall windows afforded a breathtaking view of the city. The office was large, spacious if not empty, with floor-length mirrors on two sides partially covered in ivory linen drapes. Off to one side was a tidy looking desk where on top sat a laptop computer and stacks of papers. Next to it was a larger table on wheels, which held several bolts of what looked like fabric. Elisa wasn't sure exactly where she was, but it very likely could have been a design studio of some sort.
She took a step back, closer to the door, but accidentally bumped into something. Turning around, she realized she had knocked aside a rolling mannequin that had been propped next to the door. As she went to put it back where it had been, she let out a slight gasp of surprise. It was clothed in a beautiful sheer rose-colored georgette dress.
"Oh my god." She mumbled, lightly brushing the silk with her fingertips. "This is an Añya."
"Do you like it?" A voice asked quietly.
Elisa was surprised to find that a girl had entered the room without her notice. She was tall, thin, with honey-colored blonde hair up in a loose bun. She looked apprehensive at Elisa for her answer.
"Like it? I love it. It's gorgeous... Did you design it?"
"Yes, I did." The girl brightened, gaining more confidence. "I'm Georgiana Darcy, head of the fashion/entertainment department here at Pemberley. You must be Ms. Bennet."
"You're the head of this department? But you're so young! I mean, no offense."
"None taken." Georgiana smiled. She made a circle of the room before turning back to Elisa. "Richard told me you were looking for a job. Is that right?"
"Yes, but - "
"And he tells me you're the same woman that we found yelling at my brother a few weeks ago. Is that true?"
"Yes, but I - " Elisa started again, but was cut off again.
"Simply amazing. I would love to shake the hand of the woman who finally had the nerve to put my brother in his place." Georgiana rushed, although slightly embarrassed, to take Elisa's hand in her own. "I have never seen him so humiliated in his life, it was perfect." She cheeks were tinged a faint pink and her eyes brightened.
"What?" Elisa couldn't believe her ears. "Why is everyone congratulating me for what I did? You people, of all people, should be shunning and condemning me."
"Why would we do that? We've been telling William for years if he didn't wise up, someone was going to stand up to him. And you did! He's been acting different ever since."
Elisa didn't know what to say to this. It was all strange, very strange. Richard, his own cousin, seemed pleased that she had made a scene. Georgiana, his very own sister, was praising her for humiliating her own brother! If they were all so congenial about the incident, what would Mr. Darcy do when her first saw her? Give her a high-five?
"Anyway," Georgiana continued, reverting to her usual quiet self after that un-Georgiana-like outburst. "I have been looking for a new assistant for weeks now, and I think, as does Richard, that you might be perfect for the job."
"Who, me?"
"Yes, you." She laughed lightly at the surprised expression on Elisa's face. "Don't look so shocked."
"But why?"
"Forgive me for being so forward Ms. Bennet, but the moment you stormed out of Chanterelle cursing at my brother, I knew I had to know you. It takes real strength and daring to have the gall to do that..." Georgiana stopped now, as if trying to constrain all the emotion she had been having recently. All those past weeks alone and friendless had left her tired and emotionally drained; the thought of eternal loneliness seized her insensibly. But now, she hoped, she had found someone to confide in, someone to trust, a friend. "...and if there's anything I can't stand, it's someone fake and plastic. You're none of those things, I can tell."
"But I'm not trained to be anyone's assistant. I'm sure you could find someone more suited for the job..." Elisa responded, flustered.
"Are you responsible?"
"Yes."
"Organized? Helpful? Friendly?"
"Yes, but - "
"Then you're perfect." She picked up a sketching pencil and began toying with it absentmindedly. Elisa then realized that this young woman was more nervous than she was and that realization put her immediately at ease.
"Truthfully, the job doesn't need any training. I am the head of a very busy and trying department here at Pemberley, I realize; and what I need is a person who will do as I ask, help me in anyway possible, be able to assist me in upholding the Pemberley tradition of integrity and elegance. This job is not one to be taken lightly. There will be times where I'm under a lot of stress and need your support. I'm counting on your assistance.
"I'm looking for an amiable person who is able to maintain a friendly relationship outside work, and a professional relationship inside work. There will be times, guaranteed, that I will be a complete and utter b*tch when it comes to doing things my way. But I can promise you that I'll always treat you with respect..."
Georgiana smiled widely at the end of her little speech, surprised at herself for managing to get it all out. "Are you up to it?"
Elisa answered without hesitation. "Absolutely."
And then she beamed a positively blinding smile. I got a job! Hurrah!
The rest of the day wore on considerably well. A new desk was rolled into the studio and set up across from the one already there. Georgiana was more than happy to give Elisa an abbreviated tour of her floor and promised a more thorough perusal of Pemberley later in the week. And for the first time in weeks, Elisa could breath a sigh of relief. This wasn't a dream, but it seemed to be one, one that was moving altogether too fast. She had jumped from desperate unemployed nobody to happily employed personal assistant of Georgiana, the woman that put the Ana in Añya, in the course of a few hours. It seemed unbelievable.
For the most part, Elisa stayed silent, in awe of everything around her. Later on in the day, she was introduced to several of Pemberley's many fashion designers that worked personally with Georgiana with her designs. She was still a little nervous at first to say anything, afraid she would wake herself from this surreal world of fashion, money, and power. But, as the day neared a close, Elisa realized that it wasn't as bad as she thought. The people working for Georgiana were not uptight and serious as the suits she had seen down in the Personnel floor. In fact, there was nary a suit to be found on this floor at all; the people were clothed in various curious clothing, anything from sleek and elegant slacks and cashmere sweaters to eclectic and avant-garde logo-screened t-shirts with punk-rocker jewelry.
Georgiana noticed she was ogling the oddly, if not inappropriately, dressed employees milling around the halls. "I'm pretty lenient about the dress code, unlike other departments. But José and Maria are some of my top designers, and they're the only ones that can get away with that." She pointed to a pierced and tattoo covered man chatting with a blue haired woman a few feet away. "But for you, I'm thinking classy and sophisticated. You're going to be with me practically every minute of everyday, at all the functions and galas, and we do have a reputation to uphold."
Elisa nodded.
"I'll take you shopping this weekend, if you're free."
"But I don't have any money." Elisa protested, slightly embarrassed. "I'm sure I won't be able to afford anything classy and sophisticated..."
"Don't worry about it." Georgiana gave her a reassuring look. "Anything Añya is free, of course. And for the rest, corporate credit card."
"But I'd feel like I'd be spending money that isn't rightfully mine, that I haven't earned..."
"Believe me, you'll definitely earn it."
Long after everyone else had gone home, Georgiana was standing contemplatively in her studio watching cars pass below. She was decidedly feeling much better about herself and her life. For the first time in ages, she felt happy. The Milan showcase last week had been an excruciatingly taxing event, the most stressful show she had done thus so far in her career. Everything was going horribly, the showcase pieces arrived late, and the models were uncooperative. But, at the last minute, somehow everything managed to fall into place and the show went flawlessly, despite all the trouble previous to it. The critics raved about her spring collection, calling it "ethereal, delicately feminine, and stunningly beautiful".
Now, if only I could find a boyfriend...
"Ana?" Richard asked tentatively, not really wanting to break her reverie.
She turned to him, smiling. "Yes?"
"Well?"
"She's delightful, Richard. I can't thank you enough."
"I knew it." He grinned satisfactorily. "But what do you think?"
"Think about what?"
"You know, for - "
"Oh, that. Really, Richard, I don't know..."
"But you know him better than I do."
"Still... she's pretty, for sure."
"She's beautiful." He responded.
"And she is funny and really nice..."
"And?" Richard continued.
"She's intelligent, too. I overheard her discussing with some interns during break about the works of Keats and Shelley. She really knows what she's talking about."
"So what's the problem?"
"We can't just go pushing them around." Georgiana replied, hesitatingly.
"Have you seen him these past few weeks? He's totally changed."
"But he barely knows her." She protested futilely.
"Haven't you ever heard of a phenomenon called 'love at first sight'?"
"You were always the romantic, Richard..." She digressed, trying to stall.
"So we're going for it?"
She relented, hoping he knew what he was doing. If they didn't plan this perfectly, it could all blow up in their face. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to deal with those consequences, just yet. "Well... okay."
Richard beamed brilliantly. He had a plan - well, sort of - and it was going to work. It just had to.
"William won't know what hit him."
Chapter 11
"Where were you all day? I came out of Ms. Bingley's office and you had disappeared. I was worried sick!"
Janine hugged Elisa as she appeared at her apartment. Elisa had been out by herself, celebrating a little after her first day of work. She had run around Central Park several times to release all of the pent-up excitement and anxiety she had been experiencing. She arrived at Janine's door, a bit disheveled and out of breath, but definitely aglow with joy.
"I tried calling your apartment, but you weren't there... Well?" Janine put her hands on her hips, and Elisa had to chuckle a little.
"You wouldn't believe it, Jay-Ray." She stated simply, settling gratefully on the living room sofa.
"Believe what?"
And Elisa proceeded to tell her all that transpired in that one amazing afternoon.
For the past several weeks, a change had befallen William Darcy that was so severe and sudden his co-workers were beginning to comment about it, advising him to take a few days off. He was generally out of sorts, more so that was usual to him, becoming increasingly anti-social. Associates he once called close seemed but strangers, most unwilling to keep company with one so ill humored The only companions that managed to remain close were Richard and Georgiana - because they were family - and Charles Bingley - his dearest and oldest friend.
There were days when he did not come out of his office at all, which was a great change for he loved to be active around Pemberley. There were days when he refused to speak, claiming a headache, and thus no one dared disturb him. But what startled his family and friends most was his reversion back into his former self - one marked with cold civility and taciturnity. True, Darcy had always been very reticent, but now his silence seemed deprecating. Kingston had offered him his place at Martha's Vineyard, but Darcy declined, citing work as an excuse. But what was really bothering him was not the ups and downs of the stock market like many had suspected.
Darcy was never one to berate himself. He hated finding fault with himself because he had always strived to be faultless. But now, in the back of his mind, he could replay the whole scene over and over again and there was something in her expression that stuck with him. It had seemed so insignificant at the time - or, at least, that was the way he played it off as - but upon reflection, it was startling realization. He had never meant to hurt her, but now it seemed he had wounded her more than he thought possible.
But this was stupid, right? What did he care about her? Nothing.
Yet, in her eyes, he had discovered a littleness to himself he had not noticed before; one oblivious to the feeling of others, one that took joy at the expense of others. But she was no one. No one. Yet he felt that he had known her all along. Those days he had spent, enraptured, watching her from across the street in the coffee shop were, he now realized, special to him. In those moments he had watched her, undisturbed, and those moments had been filled with peace and serenity, the first feelings of calm he had experienced for many years now... But, it all seemed so unclear...
It was now December, with only Christmas a few weeks away. Overnight the weather chilled considerably and snow was in the forecast, which pleased Darcy immensely because he loved the cold weather and winter wasn't winter without snow. This year he and Georgiana had opted to stay in the city instead of flying out to London like they usually did during the holidays; so this would be the first Christmas in years in the comfort of their own home, giving him more reason to celebrate.
"Ms. Darcy was wondering if you were free for lunch today, sir." Hannah asked, waking Darcy from his silence. She was at first reluctant to disturb him, but frankly, someone needed to do something about his attitude. It did not suit him agreeably.
He looked away from the computer screen, which had been holding a sort of trance over him for the past fifteen minutes. "Tell her I'd love to."
"She said to be ready in ten minutes. You're walking."
"Okay, then. I'll be ready."
"How about we take a break for lunch? Sound good?" Georgiana rose to stretch and yawn.
"Sounds delightful."
Elisa gathered her papers and shuffled them into the correct order. The other designers rose to leave the conference room, each buzzing excitedly with the others. It was just announced than the whole design team of Añya was invited to the annual Pediatric AIDS Foundation Fashion Show held early the next year. It was a great honor to be invited to participate in such a prestigious fundraiser, one that annually raised nearly a million dollars for research in the prevention and treatment of pediatric AIDS. Last year, only several designers had been invited, but this year the whole team was invited to showcase their pieces. That meant each of the 12 designers at Añya would be able to pick and choose their best work to be shown and auctioned off for a good cause.
"This whole charity fashion show sounds amazing." Elisa stated. "I didn't know such things existed."
"Of course!" Georgiana smiled. "It's always a great honor to be invited. And think of raising all that money for the foundation. It makes me nervous already! I'll have to work extra hard this month if I am going to create a piece worthy of the cause."
"But your designs are always so lovely, Ana! You needn't worry at all."
The pair walked back to the studio office, where Richard was waiting patiently for their return.
"Are you ready?" He asked.
"For what?" Elisa replied, confused.
"For lunch, of course. Didn't Georgiana tell you we're going out today?"
"No, she didn't." Elisa turned to Georgiana, who was looking down guiltily at her desk. She had only been at Pemberley for a week or so, but she felt as if she knew all the people all along, like they had been friends in a past lifetime. And what she did notice was that Georgiana rarely left work for lunch, that she always had it delivered from a deli down the street. "Are you guys up to something?"
"No, nothing at all." Richard replied. "Come on now, we'll never beat the lunch crowd if you don't hurry."
"Fine, then..."
"Oh wait!" Richard cried suddenly. "I've forgotten my wallet in my office."
"We'll just wait here for you, then." Elisa said.
"No... why don't you two walk down first and hold a table? And then I'll catch up with you there." Richard suggested, somewhat slyly.
"Okay..." Elisa looked at him suspiciously. What was he up to?
"Great."
He pushed them towards the elevator and watched as they got on and descended. After a good minute, when he was certain that Elisa hadn't just waited for the doors to close before opening them up again to check up on him, Richard ran up one flight of stairs to the top floor. Hannah greeted him accordingly.
"Mr. Darcy said he would - "
But Darcy interrupted her as he stepped out of his office. "I'm ready, Richard. I didn't think you were going to join us."
"Georgiana invited me along. You don't mind now, do you cousin?" He asked playfully.
"Why would I mind? You hardly eat and you amuse me greatly. I must say, you're a great investment. Deciding to keep you was probably one of my best decisions yet." Darcy prodded, regaining a little of the humorous side of himself that had been waning these past few weeks.
Richard feigned being hurt. "Oh, I'm glad I finally find out what you think of me, cousin. I'm nothing more than an investment to you! A pet kept for your amusement!"
"Don't worry about it Richard." Darcy clapped him happily on the back. "I dare say, if you amuse me long enough, I might even let you sleep inside the house!"