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Chapter 1

Posted on 2014-03-07

GARRISON: Senator Zwillick is looking more and more like a sure thing. There's no one else in the Democratic field who can compete in fundraising or endorsements.

WYATT: Yeah, but money and endorsements don't always--

GARRISON: Who would you back to beat him?

WYATT: Just to name a few, Senator Kline, Governor Gardiner--

GARRISON: I'm sorry, who?

CNN, June 23, 2013

Politicians were a superstitious lot by nature. There was so much outside their control that they were worse than baseball players. Just as a pitcher couldn't account for a sudden shift in the wind, even the best political operative couldn't keep a campaign focused forever. It had been a bad month for Gardiner for America, and Will Darcy, the relentlessly logical Will Darcy, was starting to believe they were cursed.

It started when one of their opponents--it didn't matter which, the guy would be gone before the Iowa state fair--leaked the medical records of Margaret Gardiner, only it was some dentist in Seattle, not the candidate for President. Dr. Marge Gardiner in Seattle was probably losing patients left and right now that her frequent stints in rehab were national news, but for two days the Gardiner campaign was forced to deny at the top of their lungs what looked like a candidate with a massive drug problem.

Every few days since had brought more bizarre and uncontrollable twists, somehow made worse by a spokesman with absolutely no idea what he was doing. The campaign was going into a death spiral, and Will's only consolation was that once the Gardiner campaign was out of the picture, it would be some other campaign's turn to deal with an extraordinary string of bad luck.

"We need a new spokesman," Chuck Bingley said, sotto voce, as they walked out of the New Hampshire office. "I hate to say it, but Jake Goulding is just not up for the big leagues."

"I could have told you that two months ago when we hired him," Will muttered. "In fact, I did tell you that two months ago. Why does no one listen to me?"

"Because we'd been at this three months and we still didn't have a spokesperson, man," Chuck reminded him. "You're not allowed to say no to everything."

"Well, that's completely unreasonable."

As they entered the coffee shop, Chuck laughed.

Conveniently, Jake Goulding woke the next morning with laryngitis--actual laryngitis, not excuse laryngitis--and couldn't brief. Two days later Chuck announced that Jane Bennett had found Jake passed out in the hotel restaurant and taken him to the hospital that morning. "Strep throat?" Will said to Jane, when she called to update him. "He's got strep throat?"

"Pretty bad, too," Jane told him. "The doctor says he's going to be fine, but it'll be a few days."

"Oh, that's fantastic."

"Will, it's not the end of the world. Chuck can..."

"No, I'm serious. This is fantastic."

"Will!"

"Look, I'm sorry, but we're heading to Des Moines tonight. We have to have a new spokesperson and this is the perfect excuse to get one."

"So you're just firing Jake."

"No, he can stay here, work media for the northeast. But now we get to find a spokesperson who knows how the mics work."

"You should be nicer, William."

"That doesn't seem very likely, Jane."

"I'm just saying, he works hard and he was hired for a reason."

"He was hired because no one listens to me."

So Will holed up in what passed for his office and emailed his uncle Jim, who to the wider world was known as the senior Senator from California, James Fitzwilliam.

To: jimfitz49 @matlock.com
From: fwdarcy78 @matlock.com
Re: Press question
June 29, 2013 at 8:32 AM

Uncle Jim,

Looks like we need a new spokesperson. I know you're not endorsing for a while, but have you got any recommendations? National experience preferred, but at this stage I'll take someone who can think of the right prepositions on the fly.

Any help would be a godsend.

To: fwdarcy78 @matlock.com
From: jimfitz49 @matlock.com
Re: Press question
June 29, 2013 at 8:49 AM

Elizabeth Bennet. She was a deputy on my last reelection. She filled in for a few days when Juan's wife had the baby, right as the Cencal fiasco was breaking. She's good, very good. I don't think she's worked a national, but I'm surprised one of you yahoos hasn't hired her yet.

Should be some footage of her on the fitzwilliamforCA YouTube account. If you don't hire her, William, you're an idiot.

To: jimfitz49 @matlock.com
From: fwdarcy78 @matlock.com
Re: Press question
June 29, 2013 at 8:55 AM

Thanks. I just watched a couple videos. She's not bad, but I wish there weren't such a dearth of public speaking skills in the Democratic Party.

To: fwdarcy78 @matlock.com
From: jimfitz49 @matlock.com
Re: Press question
June 29, 2013 at 9:06 AM

Just how much of a snob are you, kid? Watch the earliest video on Cencal and tell me she isn't brilliant.

Will couldn't spend all day trading email with his uncle, so he watched the rest of the videos with Elizabeth and sighed at the end. He wrote a quick message to Jim to thank him again. "She'll have to do," he wrote. "I don't have the time to do a lot of soul-searching."

Later he was going to regret his choice of words.

While everyone else was on to Des Moines, Jane booked a flight to California for him. "You're not related to this woman, are you?" he asked her when he got on the road.

"We're only sorority sisters," Jane said. "There were three of us in our pledge class with the same last name, only none of us spelled it the same."

Will was halfway to Boston before he wondered how else you spelled Bennett if it wasn't Bennet.

He hadn't been to California in almost a year, since his aunt Alice's birthday the previous summer. Los Angeles was exactly what he remembered, hot, smog-filled, and overcrowded. Will went to grad school in Berkeley but the Bay Area might as well be another planet. If he never set foot in Southern California again, he would die a happy man.

Elizabeth Bennet worked for a public relations firm, dealing primarily with film and television according to Jane. Will knew he wasn't looking at a dilettante, but he wondered why she hadn't stayed with his uncle's office if she was as good as Jim claimed. When he stepped into the firm's lobby, however, he thought he understood. Even if she was only on a junior level here, she was probably making money hand over fist. The columns in the grand foyer were covered in bronze, a gaudy imitation of the Seagram Building in New York.

Will passed through the lobby to the reception area beyond, where he told a young woman he was there for an appointment. After a quick call, she told him how to get to Ms. Bennet's office and he was off again. The office was a floor up, on the west side of the building. It was a long walk, and when he got to 207, he heard voices within. Surprised, he hung back in the corridor.

He'd heard enough of her voice on the internet to recognize Elizabeth Bennet. "Christopher, it'd be different if he had the next Princess Bride," she was saying. "I can only do so much for frat boy humor. There's a limited segment of the population who actually finds it funny, and I'm not one of them."

"I thought you never declared defeat, Lizzy," said the other person, presumably Christopher.

"Officially I don't," she said. "I'm handing this one off to Ted because I think he's ready for more responsibility."

They both laughed, and Will found himself smiling. The expression was quickly wiped from his face, though, not long after she spoke again. "I've got an appointment coming in any minute now," she said, clearing the man out.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, one of those stupid things you do for an old boss you respect."

Christopher exited and nearly walked into Will, who straightened his spine in deep irritation. He towered over the man, who leaned back into the office and said in a stage whisper, "I think he heard you."

Christopher hurried away, and Will stepped into the doorway, knocking on the jamb. "Ms. Bennet?"

Elizabeth, with cheeks faintly pink, said, "Please, come in." He entered, shutting the door behind him.

They shook hands and Will gave her his card. "I suppose I should be grateful you respect my uncle enough to take this meeting."

"Yeah, sorry," she said. "I was expecting someone younger who was going to spend the next ten minutes filling this conversation with crude innuendo, if we're being honest."

"You've met my cousin Jeff, I take it."

She smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. For his part, Will imagined Jeff would have quite a lot of things to say about the woman in front of him. She was in a plum-colored dress that wrapped around her slim build in a very flattering way. Will wasn't up on women's fashion but it looked expensive. Her dark hair was pulled into a low knot. Her makeup was minimal, letting her creamy skin and brilliant eyes do most of the work. This was a woman who knew how to present herself well. He'd thought her unremarkable on Jim's videos, but he'd been very, very wrong.

Fortunately she missed his blatant scrutiny of her. She was engrossed by his business card. "Is there a typo?" he asked dryly.

She shook her head. "I'm wondering what the F in F. William Darcy stands for."

"Why are you..."

"I imagine it's something innocuous but old-fashioned, like Francis, but I like coming up with worst-case scenarios."

Now he was curious. "Such as?"

"Fortinbras."

"That is actually worse than my real name."

This time her smile was more genuine, and she waved him into a chair while she sat behind her desk. "I imagine you're in the market for a new campaign spokesperson. Where did you get the guy with laryngitis, anyway?"

It was a good sign that she already knew about Jake. "Why don't we say the decision making process was flawed and leave it at that?"

She pursed her lips for a moment and moved on. "Tell me about Governor Gardiner."

"Two-term Governor of Wisconsin, eight years as mayor of Milwaukee," Will said immediately. "Went to college on a Navy scholarship. Strong on education, labor, women's rights."

"All the Democratic hotspots," she said lightly. "Also things I already know."

Will paused for a minute, wondering what she wanted. "She gets the job done. Never afraid of compromise, even when it means angering her own party."

Elizabeth leaned forward, and Will tried not to think about how her posture gave him a tantalizing glimpse down the neck of her dress. "Let me put it to you this way, Mr. Darcy," she said. "I don't work on a campaign unless I really believe in the candidate. If I'm going to sell my soul, it's going to be here, where the money is much, much better. I'm not going to work for a candidate who's running for President like it's the next rung on the pay scale."

"Ms. Bennet, we don't know each other," he replied, mirroring her posture. "You're going to have to take me at my word, but I don't work for stuffed shirts either."

She stared at him, considering, then nodded. "You sure you don't need to do some soul searching before you make me an offer?"

He froze. It could be a coincidence, but not bloody likely. "My uncle spoke to you."

"Yes, yes, he did."

"I suppose it was too much to think he'd put in a good word for me."

"Oh, he did that too, but you know the Senator's favorite stock answer."

"Forewarned is forearmed?"

"Exactly."

She asked him for a few hours to think about it. Will wasn't entirely pleased by the request, but he could already tell Elizabeth was not going to react well if he started making demands. The spokesman situation had him on edge, more so than usual. He had to take a deep breath and relax.

"I'm getting on a plane in a couple hours," he told her. "In fact, I need to get back to the airport. You know Jane Bennett, right? She can get you a flight to wherever we need you."

"Jane? I thought she was just volunteering in Nashua."

"Yeah, we had her in charge of the phone bank, but there was a thing with the barely-out-of-college girl we had setting up travel and hotels."

"A thing?"

"She was checking out a hotel and tried to expense the party she apparently had with some college friends who happened to be there."

"Wow."

"Jane Bennett just took over advance without being asked. It was three weeks before someone thought to put her on payroll."

Elizabeth smiled at that. "Janie always was too good to be true."

"You know how to get in touch with her?"

"Of course."

He stood for a minute and looked at her, trying to divine whether or not he'd convinced her. He was pretty sure she was going to say no. Later he'd kill Jim for repeating the stupid remark he'd made, but at some point Will might admit he deserved it.

"It was good to meet you, Ms. Bennet," he said. "I look forward to hearing from you."

She shook his hand, looking amused at something he couldn't imagine, but it was probably him.

He got an email from her just before getting on his flight from Minneapolis to Des Moines, and he walked straight into a burly man in a leather vest as he read. "Sorry, sorry," he said, pausing to help collect the bag the man dropped, all the while wondering if he was imagining things.

But no, he'd read right. She'd said yes.

Elizabeth arrived the next morning in the middle of the senior staff meeting. Jane sent him a note, and he excused himself to meet her. He found Jane and Elizabeth talking over each other excitedly and wondered how women could communicate that way.

"Ms. Bennet," he said, and Elizabeth turned.

"Which one?"

Jane laughed. "Nobody here calls me anything but Jane. Look, I have to make sure everything is in order for the Governor's speech this afternoon. Do you two promise not to murder each other for now?"

Will smiled. "You know my feelings on murder, Jane. I don't have time to work up a homicidal rage."

"I would have thought the red tape would be the deterrent," Elizabeth said, regarding him coyly.

He shrugged. "If I did murder someone, I suspect I'd have plenty of time for the red tape afterward."

Jane looked between them warily. "I'm going to let you two continue flirting over disturbing subjects on your own, okay? Lizzy, we'll talk tonight."

Elizabeth opened her mouth but said nothing as Jane walked away. Will stood staring at her for a minute, then cleared his throat. "You should come to this meeting," he said. "I'll introduce you to the candidate and senior staff."

She reached for her suitcase but he beat her to it. "We can leave your bags at my desk. I don't know where you'll be yet."

She made a face he couldn't parse but offered no objections. They left her bags behind his desk and went back to the meeting. They stood in the back, Will waiting for an opening in the analysis of the latest Gallup poll, but he was beaten to it when Governor Gardiner looked up and saw them. "Lizzy Bennet!" she said. "Richard said you were coming. Get over here!"

Startled, Will looked at her and saw a fleeting, smug smile directed at him. The others let her through and the Governor kissed Elizabeth's cheek. Meanwhile Richard Fitzwilliam moved to Will's side. "I take it Dad didn't tell you she interned for the Governor."

"She told me she didn't know her."

"Really?"

Will thought back over the conversation in her office and frowned. "I suppose she never came out and said it."

"There you go, making assumptions."

"You could have told me."

"I know, but I'm your boss, Will. There's very little I have to tell you."

By then Elizabeth was asking about the Gardiner family. "Is Dr. Gardiner around somewhere? I'd love to say hello."

"He's in Madison right now, but he's bringing the kids down for the weekend. He'll be thrilled to see you again too." Then the Governor turned to the staff. "I imagine you met Richard Fitzwilliam on his dad's campaign, but he's running the show here, and you've already met Will Darcy, of course. That just leaves Charlotte Lucas and Chuck Bingley. Guys, Elizabeth Bennet, our new spokeswoman."

Elizabeth shook hands with everyone, and the meeting was effectively over. Will went to his desk and got back to work, reviewing the afternoon's speech one more time. A few minutes later, Elizabeth knocked on the cubicle wall and came in. "I'm here for my stuff."

"Right, sure," he said, standing up and feeling like he filled the space more than usual as he towered over her.

He grabbed the duffel bag and passed it over the desk to her, fully intending to help her with the suitcase, but when she could reach it, she took it from him. "I'll take it from here, thanks."

"Elizabeth," he said, and she stopped.

"Yes?"

"You led me to believe you knew nothing about Governor Gardiner."

She hesitated a moment. "I did."

"So your little speech about selling your soul was..."

"Yes. It was about selling my soul to you." She set the suitcase down and sighed. "You're the one I'll be working for. You're the Governor's voice in the campaign. The easiest way to figure out if I could work for you was to figure out what you think about the candidate."

He hated being lied to, even like this, even when he could understand her motives. He'd jumped on board without a second thought when Richard came to him, but he loved his cousin like a brother and would trust him with his life. Elizabeth had only a biased recommendation from his uncle to go on.

"So there's one more thing I don't understand," Will said, watching her pick up the case again. "If you're as good as Jim says, why aren't you still working for him?"

"How is it any of your business?"

"I'm gauging your level of commitment. How am I to know you won't bail on us when the next PR firm comes calling?"

Her nostrils actually flared. "If you must know, the Senator offered, but I wanted to get my master's and I didn't feel like I could give school and that job the attention either needed. Schierson and Clark gave me flexibility, and that let me go to grad school and have health insurance and money for food all at the same time."

"We've really got to do something about the cost of education in this country."

"Don't try to sweet-talk me, Darcy," she retorted, her voice laden with sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes as she left. "Wouldn't dream of it."

"So how's your mom?" Jane asked, after they'd talked over strings of bad dates, Lizzy's idiotic clients, and Jane's sudden rise in the Gardiner campaign.

"She's two years in remission," Elizabeth replied. "Writing again too. Her latest book is due out in a couple weeks, actually."

"That's great," Jane said, smiling. "I know it was rough when she was diagnosed."

"Yeah."

What she'd told Darcy earlier about her career decisions had been true but there was more to it. Her mother was diagnosed with lung cancer in October of the Fitzwilliam campaign. Fran Bennet's book sales had been down for a while and she wasn't covered by her husband David's insurance. If Lizzy hadn't gone to work for Schierson, her mother would have gone bankrupt long before her treatment was over.

She didn't like concealing the truth from anyone, and really, if Darcy hadn't pissed her off with the remark about her commitment, she probably would have told him. But he'd gotten under her skin with that, and she could be petty when annoyed.

"So tell me about these guys," she said. "I know Richard, but he's the only one besides you."

"Charlotte Lucas is Richard's deputy. You'll love her, I imagine. Tough as nails but she's willing to compromise for the greater good."

"And she works for Richard?" Lizzy said, incredulous.

"I take it Richard isn't big on compromise?"

Lizzy contemplated it for a second. "Well, in fairness, he wasn't managing the last campaign I worked on. If Senator Fitzwilliam wanted him to swing for the fences, he'd swing for the fences."

"I'm not sure what that means, but okay."

"Okay. So Chuck Bingley?"

"What about him?"

Lizzy blinked. "Are you ducking the question, Janie?" As Jane blushed, Lizzy swung a pillow at her. "You are!"

"Fine!" Jane said, seizing the pillow. "Okay, okay. He's cute, I like him, and I think if the campaign weren't completely insane..."

"It's not going to get any better if we win, you know."

Jane sighed. "I know."

They fell silent for a minute, until Jane started looking at her closely. "Is there something on my face?"

"You're not going to ask about Will?"

"Will?"

"William Darcy, communications director, your new boss."

"Oh."

Jane laughed. "You were flirting with him this morning."

"No, no, I wasn't. You're confusing flirtation with antagonism."

"He smiled at you, Lizzy. Do you know how long it usually takes him to smile at new people?"

"Jane, it's my first day," Lizzy said, flopping back on the bed theatrically. "Stop trying to set me up with my boss."

Jane got up, tossing the pillow back on Lizzy's stomach. "I'm taking a shower."

"I'm checking the wires."

"Are you going to do what you did in college?"

"Get drunk and accidentally make out with your boyfriend?"

"First, I don't believe it was an accident. Second, it happened twice, which is why I don't believe it was an accident," Jane said, digging through her suitcase. "Third, I was talking about your habit of keeping me up all night."

Lizzy was only half listening, already skimming things on her iPad. "For the record, the first time I didn't realize he was your boyfriend," she said. "The second time... I was mad at you, I think."

"Oh, that's right," Jane said, standing up straight. "He was your boyfriend, he dumped you, I went out with him, and then I found you making out with him." The two women looked at each other, smiles barely suppressed. "I'll give you a pass on that one."

"I love you, Janie," Lizzy sang.

"Shut up, please."

The next morning, Darcy arrived at her desk with a cup of coffee. "Peace offering," he said without any greeting. "I'm not sure we've started off too well."

Elizabeth took the cup, along with the creamer and packs of sugar he offered. "Permission to speak freely?"

"I'm not going to fire you for telling me the truth."

She popped off the lid and poured in the cream and sugar. "For a communications director, you're really bad at communicating."

He smiled, and she tried to forget what Jane said the night before. "Yes, but I'm a big fan of irony."

She couldn't help smiling back, at least until she tasted the coffee. "This stuff is revolting."

His smile turned into a grin, and for a heartbeat or two, all Lizzy could think was that he really was devastatingly handsome. "You ready to talk to some reporters?"

"Yeah," she said, trying to recover her composure. "I'm covering the Governor's push for better tech in rural Wisconsin schools and how a national program would affect Iowa."

"You may also get questions about the Senior Care Act in the Iowa legislature."

"I saw that last night. Something about provisions for palliative care?"

"Right. I've got some talking points prepared if you want to see them."

Lizzy wanted to tell him no, but figured she'd antagonized him enough for one week. "Sure."

He handed over the index cards he'd been holding, but as she flipped through them she could sense he was staring. "Is something wrong?" she asked, glancing up.

"No, I've just got a question you may think is odd."

She looked again, longer this time. "I'll try not to hold it against you."

"Jane and the Governor both called you Lizzy," he said. "I was wondering if you prefer to be called that, or Elizabeth."

She shrugged. "Either is fine. Just don't call me Lizard Breath and you're good."

He tilted his head down, looking at her in surprise. "Lizard Breath?"

"I have two very charming stepbrothers."

"Evidently."

She set aside the coffee, gathering up her tablet and the index cards. "Well, I have to go talk to the press. Thanks for the coffee."

"You called it revolting."

"The gesture, then."

To her surprise, he followed her from her desk. "Are we going in the same direction?"

"Yes."

"No, I'm asking if you've got a meeting in the general vicinity of where I'm going."

"No."

"Okay." There were half a dozen reporters clustered by a vacant desk on the other side of the room. "Well, I'm going to do my thing."

He stopped following her, and Lizzy went up to the reporters alone. Their conversation abruptly stopped, and she smiled. "Hi, I'm Elizabeth Bennet, your new best friend."

They laughed politely, she relaxed a little, and they all got to the point. It had been a while but after a few minutes Lizzy fell into the rhythm of it, questions and answers and follow-ups and jokes. It wasn't until the question of the Senior Care Act came up that the little conference halted.

Lizzy looked at the cards Darcy had given her, and at that moment she realized he had been standing ten feet away the whole time, pretending to read things on his phone. He glanced up when she paused, and she decided to dive in. "You know, my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer about three years ago," she said. "It was a week before my boss was reelected, and the day after the election, I went home to sit with her in an appointment about her treatment options. They weren't sure yet if it would be treatable, so one of the things we talked about was palliative care.

"We went home, Mom called her sister, and I spent the next hour crying, but I am so, so glad her doctors had that conversation with us. When you face a disease like cancer, you need all the information you can get your hands on, and that includes talking about end-of-life options. Not an argument or a debate, just information. And we should help doctors help their patients however we can. The Senior Care Act in front of the Iowa legislature right now is being held up over $500,000 for a pilot program to provide better training to doctors in hospitals to talk to their patients about some of the most difficult decisions any of us will ever have to make. I don't know about you, but when I get that diagnosis, I want my doctor to have all the tools he needs at his disposal, including how to talk to me about death."

The chat wound down after a couple minutes, and Lizzy walked back toward her desk. When she passed Darcy, he trailed in her wake again. "Can I help you?" she asked.

"That was good, but it's not necessary for you to make things so personal," Darcy said to her, keeping his voice down.

"It's health care. It is personal," Lizzy replied. "It's only slightly less personal than God, and possibly guns."

"Please tell me you're for gun control."

"You probably should have asked me that when you were interviewing me."

"Yes, well, it's for the candidate to make things personal," Darcy said, looking like she'd thrown him off. "Your job is presenting the facts."

"Select facts."

"Obviously."

They had reached her desk by then, and she set her things down. "Anything else?"

He leaned against the high cubicle wall. "The thing about your mother," he said. "That's why you didn't keep working for Jim."

"It was part of it," she admitted. "I'd already interviewed for Schierson by then, but it added urgency."

"Lung cancer?"

"Never smoked a day in her life. You said you like irony."

"Not that kind of irony."

"Well, that's a relief."

He was watching her again as if there was something else he wanted to ask. "Well?" she prompted.

"I don't think there's a good way to ask what I want to ask."

"Somehow I don't think that's ever stopped you before." She sat down at her desk and sighed. "She's been in remission for two years."

"I'm glad."

"Thanks."

"Senior staff in ten."

With a nod he was off, and Lizzy stared at his retreating form. What was wrong with that man?

Chapter 2

Posted on 2014-03-10

It doesn't really surprise me that Iowa became a national focus in primary politics. People in Iowa know how to throw a state fair. I mean, have you seen the butter cow?

Andrew Jefferson, aka The Purple Politic, August 9, 2013

"Our state fair is a great state fair..."

"Chuck, if I murder her, a judge will see it as justifiable homicide, right?"

"I barely passed crim pro, Will."

"Between that and your sister, I'm beginning to wonder why I hired you."

Lizzy stopped singing long enough to frown at Jane. "Who is Chuck's sister?"

"Representative Caroline Bingley-Anderson," Jane said quietly.

"Oh," Lizzy said, as though she understood.

"Will was engaged to her for about twenty minutes," Chuck said, which earned him a shove from Darcy.

Lizzy jumped ahead several steps to take Chuck's place, while they walked past a booth of quilts. "I have to ask."

"I don't have to tell," Darcy said tersely.

"Then you know where this leads, Fortinbras."

He sighed and stopped, turning to her while Lizzy stopped too. "I don't like talking about myself."

"In six weeks I've figured this out."

With something like a growl, Darcy headed down the path again and Elizabeth followed. They were leaving Jane and Bingley behind but she kept her mouth closed, waiting for him to speak. "I was in grad school, she was in law school. I proposed, and two weeks later I found her in bed with my roommate."

Lizzy blinked. "Wow. That's like something out of a soap opera."

"Yes. I'm assuming you live in a musical."

"Yeah, but a forties or fifties musical, not like Rent or Les Misérables."

"There are different kinds of musicals?"

Lizzy was no longer listening. "Oh, look, corn on the cob!"

She grabbed Darcy's arm and pulled him toward the stand and into line. "What are we doing?" he asked.

"You're at a fair, Darcy. Act like it."

"Only if you swear to stop singing."

She didn't agree, but she didn't argue either. For a couple minutes they moved forward in line silently, his tension increasing measurably. He cracked when they were about five feet from the long table. "Why do you do that?"

"Why do I sing?"

"Why do you call me Darcy?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Everyone else calls you Will, but it doesn't really suit you."

"And my last name does?"

"It's--I don't know, it's more dignified."

"You call me Darcy because it's more dignified, but you're force-feeding me corn on the cob that's been dipped in a giant vat of butter."

"When in Rome, Darcy. Oh, but speaking of butter, we have to see the butter cow."

"I'm firing you for this."

"I'd like to see you try."

They'd officially lost Jane and Bingley a while back, so Lizzy was the only witness to the indignity of Darcy and fair food. "You're not big on this kind of thing, are you?" she asked him as they were leaving the line.

"It doesn't thrill my soul, if that's what you're asking." He looked at his watch and added, "We should find the Governor."

They found the Governor in the building with the butter sculptures, so Lizzy got to drag Darcy around to all of them anyway. Governor Gardiner was there with her husband and their kids, and it wasn't long before Lizzy was carrying the two-year-old and Darcy had the five-year-old hoisted onto his shoulders. She'd seen him around the little Gardiners a few times, and it still surprised her to see his ease with them. They were sweet kids but full of energy, and when they were around the campaign, they were so excited to see their mom they could be a little overwhelming.

Not to Darcy, though. For all that Darcy had no patience with adults, he had plenty of it for kids. The Gardiner children adored him, and he'd never even resorted to giving them candy behind their parents' backs. It was very strange.

The Governor walked next to Lizzy as they exited the building en masse, Jack still on Darcy's shoulders. She noticed where Lizzy's attention was and laughed quietly. "For the record, Lizzy, I don't get it either," she said. "As much as he scares adults, kids seem to love him. And he's teaching Jack all kinds of new words."

Lizzy smiled. "You're probably going to regret that."

"Probably."

"You ready to speak today, ma'am?"

"I have to speak today?"

Lizzy rolled her eyes and shifted little Hannah to her other side. "I have to go talk to some reporters," she said. "Mind if I take Hannah with me as a blatant ploy for sympathy?"

Governor Gardiner laughed. "Go."

"What do you think, Hannah?" she asked of the child. "Want to charm the media?"

Hannah grinned behind her pacifier and Lizzy walked off with her.

The Gardiner for America booth was being manned by volunteers, a couple from Wisconsin but mostly local activists. Lizzy was pleased by the size of the crowd, and even more by how many had signed up for the email newsletter. She wasn't privy to the financial state of the campaign, but she'd never been involved in a campaign that didn't want cash in a bad way.

They'd been rising in the polls lately. The six reporters she'd started briefing had grown to fifteen or so. It was early yet and Lizzy wouldn't bank on it, but it was encouraging. Better than the alternative, at any rate.

"Hi, guys," Lizzy said. "Hannah and I are here to answer your questions."

"Hannah, are you enjoying the fair?" Kevin from the Des Moines paper asked.

She giggled at him and pretended to be shy. "No one's buying that, sweetie," Lizzy said. "Hey, let's show them our game. High five?"

"No!" Hannah said, shaking her head vigorously.

"High five or I get your belly."

"No five!"

Lizzy tickled without mercy and the reporters laughed as Hannah shrieked.

After a minute they all calmed down and got to business. "Can you give us a preview of the Governor's speech this afternoon, Lizzy?" a reporter asked.

"It has nouns, verbs, a semicolon or two, and of course, Will Darcy is an old-fashioned guy, so you'll hear some adverbs now and then. I hear he's even a fan of the Oxford comma."

Darcy walked up to them while she spoke, Jack still riding on his shoulders. "I hope you're enjoying yourself, Elizabeth," he said, glaring at her.

"I always do. You do like the Oxford comma, don't you?"

"Bingley and I have an ongoing argument about it."

One of the younger reporters raised his hand. "If you're going to ask what's an Oxford comma, you should go back to your alma mater and demand a refund," Lizzy said.

She was surprised when Darcy chuckled. He leaned down and said, "Carry on."

His baritone voice was low in her ear, and for a second it was the only thing she could sense. He was already probably the most handsome man she knew; it was really unfair that he could send her into sensory overload with two words. She only hoped she wasn't blushing.

"Walk," Hannah said, tugging at Lizzy's necklace. "Bee walk."

"Bee?" one of the reporters said.

"This is not for the record, but Dr. Gardiner still calls me Lizzy B.," she said, while removing Hannah's grip on her jewelry. "I was in his intro to poli sci class at Wisconsin with three other girls named Elizabeth. He had to differentiate us somehow."

Kevin had turned away during this, and Lizzy raised a brow at him. "Did you see a hot girl, Kevin?"

"Do you know if it's supposed to rain?" he asked out of the blue.

"I get mistaken for the weather girl from one of the Davenport stations, but I'm not actually a meteorologist, Kev."

"Look over there," he said, pointing to the west with one hand while fiddling with his phone. "It looks like it's going to rain."

"Looks like wain," Hannah agreed.

"Jack, I need my phone," he said, holding his hand up for it.

The boy had been playing Angry Birds but he complied immediately. Will called Ed Gardiner as soon as he had phone in hand. "Ed, it's Will. Are you and the Governor outside?"

"We're heading inside," Ed told him, almost before Will was done speaking. "Is Lizzy with you?"

"No, but I'll grab her and Hannah. What building are you in?"

A couple minutes later, Will spotted Lizzy and Hannah nearby with a gaggle of reporters. She was looking worriedly at her phone. "Elizabeth!" he called. When she turned to him, he saw Hannah struggling with her. Will got Jack down from his shoulders and said, "Buddy, I need you to take Lizzy's hand, okay? Elizabeth, the Gardiners are heading back to where the butter sculptures were."

Without asking, he took Hannah from her, and Elizabeth looked up at him, rubbing her shoulder for a minute. "Thanks. She was about to take my arm off."

"Jack-Jack, take Lizzy's hand," Will said, looking around for the boy. "Now. I mean it."

Jack looked like he wanted to object but after making eye contact with Will, he grabbed her hand like a lifeline. "I got him, Will," she said. "Let's go."

The crowd, which had been huge and unmanageable all day, was now restless and unnerving. Hannah, unhappy and not at all shy about it, strained against him but Will was undeterred. He could be an immovable object when he needed to be.

He could see over the people around them but he kept looking back, making sure Lizzy and Jack were still with him as they pressed ahead to the building. Finally he reached with his free hand to grab Lizzy's, pulling her forward to walk beside him. "We're still here," she said over the noise.

"I want to keep it that way."

Will hadn't seen any lightning but thunder rolled over them the minute the words were out of his mouth. Hannah screamed and stopped fighting him, clinging to his neck instead. "We're okay, Hannah," he said. "We're going inside, we're finding Mom and Dad."

He was curiously aware, though, of Lizzy on his other side. Her hand was much smaller than his, but her grip was firm as the crowd jostled them. When they got into the building and spotted the Gardiners, he was strangely reluctant to let her go.

He was less reluctant to give Hannah back to her parents. More thunder made her more upset, and nothing but her mother was going to calm her. "Thank you, Lizzy, Will," Ed said, gripping Will's arm briefly. "They weren't too much trouble?"

"No, they were fine," Will replied.

He felt a tug on his hand, and he looked down to see Jack standing between him and Lizzy. "Can I play Angry Birds now, Will?" he asked.

"Depends," Will said."Are you going to beat all my high scores?"

While Jack deliberated, Lizzy laughed. Will looked up and gave her a small smile.

Their trek into the building turned out to be an abundance of caution. It never even rained at the fairgrounds. After a few minutes they went back outside, where the storm was much further north.

Will stayed several feet back from the Gardiners with Lizzy, but her attention was distracted by something on her phone. "Elizabeth, what is it?" he asked, laying his hand against her lower back for a moment.

"There's reports of a tornado," Lizzy said, scrolling the screen rapidly. "A huge tornado in Donovan."

Their eyes met and Will felt the horror he saw on her face. Donovan was a town of about three thousand. They'd done a town hall forum there the last time they were in Iowa, or maybe the time before.

"How long until the Governor speaks?" Will asked.

She looked at her watch. "About an hour, if things don't get moved."

"She can't talk about education being the great equalizer when we don't know if people are dead ten miles from here."

"I know."

Later, one or both of them would realize they should have called Chuck, since writing speeches was his job, but Lizzy just pulled her tablet from her purse and they started composing some sort of text as they walked. She might not ever be a brilliant speech writer herself, but she had a good ear, as it were. She helped him avoid anything cliché or overblown, and together they came up with something the Governor could say while everything was so uncertain, before going to the section of the stump speech on a vision for America.

Twenty minutes after the storm passed, the whole staff was gathered in the campaign bus, along with the Gardiner family. An exhausted Hannah was conked out on a seat, while Jack watched a movie with headphones on. The Governor was on the phone with the Governor of Iowa, and the rest were waiting rather anxiously to hear the news.

"There's six dead in Donovan," she announced when she hung up. Will heard Lizzy let out a little pained sound. "To make matters worse, the elementary school is pretty much destroyed. The school year hasn't started yet, of course, but this is going to be a real hardship for them."

Lizzy held out her iPad for the Governor. "Darcy and I jotted down some remarks."

Governor Gardiner read it quickly, then handed the tablet back. "It's very good, but the speeches have been postponed until tomorrow. We have a little more time to finesse the speech. In the meantime I think you can use some variation on that as a statement to the press, Lizzy."

She nodded. "Thank you, Governor."

Jane went to work changing their travel plans, while Chuck and Charlotte began brainstorming some sort of donation drive they could run while they remained in the state. With everyone else occupied, Will stepped back from the group, along with his cousin. "These are good ideas," Richard said. "Good politics too."

"I wasn't objecting," Will replied. "I just don't have much to add. Not my area."

He felt Richard watching him for a minute and Will finally broke. "Your dad does this, you know."

"Where do you think I learned it?"

"What do you want, Richard?"

"You wrote that statement with Lizzy, huh?"

"I happened to be with her. Don't read anything into it."

"Why would I do that? It's not like you've been serious about a woman since..."

"Don't say it."

"Fine, she-who-must-not-be-named. Don't you think you've been brooding about that long enough?"

Will let out a growl, and Richard held his hands up. "I'm just saying, most women aren't like Lady Voldemort. And Lizzy Bennet is as good as they come."

Will wanted to ask why Richard wasn't chasing her. Then again, maybe he didn't want to know.

The death count was revised down to five within an hour, and they decided it was time for Lizzy to talk to the press. Will watched from ten feet away. There was a camera from one of the local stations, and as soon as Lizzy stepped up to speak, Will knew he was going to be seeing this on television for days. She was somehow poised and emotionally charged at once. It was an arresting combination.

"Will Darcy and I were trying to figure out when we were in Donovan," she said. "I finally remembered, it was during my first trip to Iowa, about six weeks ago. I slept that night in Dave and Lorrie Anders' guest room. I'd never met them before in my life, but they had me in their house and fed me breakfast the next morning."

A few of the reporters laughed quietly, and Lizzy gave a wistful smile. "Political campaigns are a disruption to any town, but everyone we met in Donovan was incredibly kind. We can't imagine what they're going through now, but I think we can know they are helping each other, and will help each other as long as it's needed.

"Now is the time for us to repay the kindness Donovan showed to us. We were strangers and they welcomed us without question or complaint. But the great thing about this country is we never have to be told to step up when there's an event like this. For those of you in the area, we want to encourage you to give blood if you can. In the next few days, we're going to hear about how the rest of us can help, whether it's in the form of food or money or time. There are moments bigger than any one of us, but they're not bigger than all of us together. We hope the people of Donovan remember that in days to come, and that all of us step up to do what we can."

She opened for questions, and Will honestly couldn't take his eyes off her. How had he ever thought she was just adequate? She was a virtuoso. And Richard wasn't wrong. She was more than articulate, which was all he'd hoped for in a spokesperson. She was charming, witty, quick on her feet, and as intelligent as anyone he'd ever known.

Richard wasn't entirely right, though. He'd had serious relationships since Caroline, but her brand of betrayal had made her hard to forget. Always a cautious man, the experience left him guarded. Whether he thought about it or not, he always looked for Caroline in the women who intrigued him, knowing he was never going to put himself through that again.

Lizzy didn't remind him of Caroline in any way, though. Even physically they were very different. Caroline was tall and fair; Lizzy was small and dark. Lizzy was also honest and vibrant and transparent, everything Caroline was not.

He put all those thoughts out of his mind now as he watched Elizabeth Bennet talking about a disaster and holding her audience captive as long as she wanted them. He remembered holding her hand earlier, just to keep them from getting separated. It lingered in his psyche, and for a brief moment, he let himself acknowledge Richard was right about other things too.

Lizzy Bennet was fascinating, and Will Darcy was, to his own astonishment, spellbound.

Chapter 3

Posted on 2014-03-17

None of the Presidential debates are looking all that promising.

On the Republican side, the debates are highlighting a rather alarming problem in the party. Listen to next week's debate, and I mean listen. Close your eyes and listen. You won't be able to tell them apart. The base of the party has the candidates in lockstep. As a conservative, I find this troubling. Without substantive differences among the candidates, how are voters to choose one? Either it will become a matter of cult of personality, or voters won't have any passion for the nominee. Neither option looks like it leads to a win in the general election.

The Democrats present a contrast, to put it mildly. There's plenty of disagreement among their candidates. In fact, there's so much discord that it's hard to imagine how they'll pull out any kind of party unity when the dust has settled.

David Kerr, the New York Times, October 1, 2013

Sometime on the third day of debate prep, Will was resisting the urge to run screaming from the room. He'd worked plenty of campaigns before and even a national, but never this early, with so many primary candidates. He was swiftly learning elections at this level were insane.

Lizzy approached the desk and crouched down beside him. "Should I get you a pillow?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Why?"

"You look like you're about to start banging your head on the desk," she answered quietly. "I have to have you on television tomorrow night and I'd rather you didn't look like Richard took a swing at you with a baseball bat."

"That's sweet of you."

She laughed quietly, which drew Charlotte's attention, but Will decided not to care. "This is preposterous, you know," Lizzy said.

"Yes, but apparently it's what we do."

"I mean, eight candidates on a stage for ninety minutes. If we're lucky she gets to talk for ten minutes total. There's no way anything good comes from it."

"It's a threshing floor, I suppose. Winnowing the chaff."

"And if it turns out we're the chaff?"

"Then you go back to Schierson and Richard takes me camping." She raised a brow and he sighed. "You make me talk too much."

She gave him a mischievous smile. "I'll just ask Richard."

She stood and headed off before Will could say anything else. The Governor and Charlotte were talking, and Will let his eyes follow Lizzy as she walked to them. She was the only one aside from himself not dressed very casually today. Neither of them were inclined to dress down, now that he thought about it. Will always felt when he was working he should look the part; he suspected Lizzy dressed as she did because she was often on camera.

The debate went well for them the next night, even if it was a ridiculous exercise and the Governor only spoke for eleven minutes. Fortunately all the train wrecks involved other people. There was a particularly painful exchange between the junior Senator from Colorado and the former Governor of Delaware that had Will thinking this circus would sink the party someday, but at least Margaret Gardiner came out looking like she knew what she was talking about.

Nine days later, the circus happened again in Florida, this time for a Spanish-language network. There was a bit of a to-do over the number of Republicans waffling on attending the GOP debate the next night, but Will didn't want to consider the other side of the aisle until he was more sure they would survive the primaries. Right now no one had cast a vote for either side.

The morning before the debate, Will was just pulling his shirt on when there was a knock on the door of his hotel room. Chuck had a habit of getting up early to edit, so Will answered it without seeing who it was. To his surprise, Lizzy was on the other side, holding coffee cups in a carrier and a paper bag. "Elizabeth," he said, his fingers suddenly fumbling the buttons of his shirt.

She looked amused. "You'll just open the door in your undershirt for anyone?"

"I assumed you were Chuck."

"I'm flattered."

"What do you need, Elizabeth?"

"I brought breakfast."

He held the door open with his foot to let her in while he finished buttoning his shirt. "What do you need?" he repeated.

"You don't want to see what I brought for breakfast?"

"I can do two things at once."

She set the bag down on the desk and handed him a cup of coffee. "I brought pie."

"For breakfast?"

"It was that or carrot cake."

"Well, I'd say no, but I make it a point never to pass up pie."

She smiled, the coy look that made him feel fifteen again. "I know."

She'd brought him a slice of lemon meringue and black coffee from someone who knew what they were doing on both counts. "So what do you need?" he asked for a third time, after swallowing his first bite.

Lizzy was leaning against the television cabinet while she drank her coffee. "Have you heard something about a tape?"

"A tape?"

"A video of some sort. Jill from the Orlando Sentinel asked me yesterday morning, and last night it was Jill and one of the Kevins and the new guy from the Chicago Tribune."

"We've got someone from the Trib now?"

"Yeah. Anyway, will you let me know if you hear something?"

"Of course. You should talk to Charlotte, though. She hears everything."

"Okay. Thanks."

"You're not going to eat something?"

"I had a scone earlier."

"All right."

She left him with his pie and coffee, and when the door was firmly shut behind her, he let out a long breath.

A month ago, after the Iowa state fair, the Gardiner campaign organized a drive to collect books for Donovan's elementary school, both for the destroyed library and the classrooms. It was Lizzy's idea toward the end of a late-night brainstorming session, while she fought with Will over the last slice of French silk pie. He'd given in mostly because when she looked at him like that, her eyes full of laughter, he could hardly think straight, let alone tell her no. He was spending too much time looking at her, thinking about her, but he couldn't seem to help himself.

At least he understood how much trouble he was in.

In the Orlando office, Lizzy went about her usual work, distributing the wires with her notes to the staff and covering the highlights in the morning meeting. Afterward, she followed Charlotte and Richard into the back room. "Darcy told me to bring this to you," she told them. "I'm hearing chatter about a video."

"What kind of video?" Richard asked.

She shrugged. "No one seems to know."

"If you had to guess," he said.

"Gun to my head? Someone's made a nasty ad and it's gotten loose."

"Well, it's not us," Charlotte said. "We don't have the money to make an ad and put it in a drawer."

Richard laughed. "She makes a good point."

"The only campaign with that kind of money is Zwillick," Lizzy said. "Jameson might be stupid enough, but he doesn't have the money."

"Keep on it, Lizzy," Richard told her. "We're going to see all these people tonight, so you might do some recon at the debate."

She frowned. "How do you expect me to do that?"

"You're a pretty girl."

She burst out laughing. "Charlotte, do you believe this?"

"Hardly ever," Charlotte replied. "Richard, you know this is harassment, right?"

"What? It's true!" Richard said, holding up his hands. "Look, I'm a guy. If you came to me asking for information, I'd put out."

"Gross, Richard," Charlotte said.

Lizzy herself was unfazed. "What if I just want to cuddle?" she asked with a wink.

"Wow," he said. "I don't even know what to say."

While Charlotte laughed, Lizzy patted Richard's chest. "I guess all those rumors about Big Rick were unfounded."

As she left the room, he called, "Hey! I didn't say that!"

She was still smiling when she nearly walked into Will just outside. "Oh, hi, Darcy," she said, nearly dropping her phone.

"Good morning."

"Do you make a habit of lurking outside rooms I'm in?"

"I do seem to have impeccable timing."

He was stiff and detached now. He'd been flustered in his hotel room, but she thought he was just tired and surprised to see her there. His behavior now didn't make much sense. "Is something wrong?"

"No," he said tersely. "What you do is none of my business."

She felt her cheeks warming. He'd heard her talking to Richard, which for some reason bothered her. This campaign was fairly loose about the line between professional and personal relationships--Richard and Will were cousins, for heaven's sake--but she could imagine he disapproved of romantic entanglements among the troops.

"Darcy, it was nothing," she said. "He's a huge flirt. It's meaningless."

He relaxed marginally but still looked annoyed. "All right."

He walked off, leaving Lizzy wondering what just happened, but she had too much work to do to obsess over it.

Governor Gardiner had another meeting with senior staff over lunch. This was apparently Charlotte's doing, and Lizzy had a suspicion she just wanted to order from the deli they'd discovered the last time they were in Miami. "I don't think I could live here," Lizzy said, gathering up a Cuban and a can of soda, "but I think I could eat this sandwich every day."

"You're from Los Angeles," Charlotte said, "and you don't think you could live here?"

"I'm not from Los Angeles," Lizzy corrected. "I'm from Chicago. Mostly."

"Mostly?" Will asked. "How are you mostly from somewhere?"

"I was born in Geneva, and not the one in Illinois. Meyrin, Switzerland, technically."

Jane and the Governor were the only ones there who knew that, and the others were certainly surprised. "You're Swiss?" Chuck said.

"I have dual citizenship. My father is Swiss, Mom's American."

"Why have I heard of Meyrin?" Will asked.

"CERN. My father is a physicist. He met my mother when he was working at Fermilab, outside Chicago."

"We'll get into more of Lizzy's family tree after lunch," the Governor said, ending that line of conversation. "Let's get down to business. Charlotte?"

"Right," Charlotte said. "I was talking with our tech support guys last night, and I think it's pretty obvious our setup is not really adequate for what's coming. We're collecting data on voters but it's not usable for those of us who can't program."

"I assume you're talking about something more than a website," Governor Gardiner said.

"Yes, ma'am," Charlotte replied. "We need a more modern get-out-the-vote operation. It's not enough to know where the voters are anymore. I think we need to look at smartphone apps for our volunteers to use to help organize door-to-door and phone banking and to collate all the data they gather."

"Do we have the money for that?" Richard asked.

"Well, we can't afford a rock star, but we've got some money that could go to this," Charlotte replied. "It's worth it, though. New Hampshire is going to be our battle with Zwillick, and this kind of tool is going to go a long way."

"Because New Hampshire is retail politics," Chuck finished.

"Have you got someone in mind?" Lizzy asked.

Charlotte looked a little surprised. "I've got a list, but do you know someone?"

"Yes, actually. Jane and I went to school with the founder and former CEO of Verity."

"Verity?" Chuck repeated. "Don't they do sports analysis or something?"

"It's one of the things they do," Lizzy said. "Mary sold her shares about a month ago. She said she wants a small project she can really sink her teeth into."

"I'm not sure I like being a small project," the Governor remarked with a smile.

"Oh, don't worry, ma'am. As soon as we're a big project she'll remember she likes being a petty dictator."

Everyone at the table laughed, and the question was settled. Jane would make the arrangements. "Can we go back to interrogating Lizzy now?" Chuck asked.

"I have no objections," the Governor replied.

"What if I object?" Lizzy asked.

"I've decided I don't care, and I'm the petty dictator here."

While the others laughed, Lizzy grabbed another soda.

That evening she was the first from Gardiner for America to arrive at the site, wanting to scout the press room before it was too crowded. The only others there yet were from Zwillick's staff; they were few and far between. Lizzy's clicking heels echoed in the vacant gym, where they'd be spinning during and after the debate. The sound of one of the doors opening startled her so badly she jumped.

"I'm so sorry," said the man who came in. He was tall, impeccably dressed in a blue suit and red tie, not a hair out of place. "I thought this would be empty."

"No, it's all right," she told him. "I was just in here getting a sense of the room."

"Sure."

She expected him to go, but instead he came up to her and extended his hand. "George Wickham. I'm with the Zwillick campaign."

She shook hands with him. "Lizzy Bennet."

"You're Governor Gardiner's spokesperson," Wickham said. "Good to meet you."

"Yeah, you too."

"Hey, are you the one looking for a tape?"

Lizzy blinked. "How did you-"

"We've got a tape," he said. "It was sent to me, and we don't know where it came from."

"Well, it wasn't us," she told him, figuring that much was safe.

"I know. It's about your candidate."

She couldn't imagine what they were being tagged with or who was doing it, but she would have to talk to her bosses before she could talk about it. She glanced at her watch. "Well, thanks for the information," she said, diving into her purse.

Wickham grabbed her arm. She didn't appreciate it but she didn't say anything, just looked at him. "I'm sure you're going to be busy soon, but maybe we could talk about this after? Probably around midnight?"

"I'll have to check with my people," she said cautiously. "I'm not sure what the schedule looks like once our press obligations are through."

"Of course." Wickham released her arm and drew his phone from inside his jacket. "Why don't I meet you at your hotel around midnight? Gardiner's folks are at the Robinson, right?" He must have seen something in her expression, because he held up his free hand. "We can meet in the lobby. Nothing shady."

Lizzy didn't want to commit to anything. Something was wrong. "I'll find you after the debate and let you know. I wasn't lying when I said I had to check."

"All right. I'll see you later, Lizzy Bennet."

"Oh, let's hope not," she muttered when he was gone.

It wasn't until the candidates' opening statements that she had a minute to talk to anyone. Will Darcy was unoccupied, so she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him away from people. "Elizabeth, are you having a crisis?" he whispered urgently.

"The tape," she said breathlessly. "I found out who has it, and maybe what it is."

"And?"

"Zwillick's got it. It's about Governor Gardiner."

"You're kidding me," Will said. "You're--no, this can't be real. Who told you this?"

"A guy named George Wickham."

Will's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed. "George Wickham?"

"You know him?"

He sighed, his gaze darting around the room. "Caroline knew him better."

Lizzy frowned for a minute before she got it. "Oh. Wow. Okay. We should make sure you don't run into him."

He seemed to shake it off, although to Lizzy he still seemed abnormally tense. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to talk to me about it after the debate. I told him I had to look at a schedule."

Will nodded. "Don't go by yourself."

"I'm going to ask Jane to come with me. She can observe discreetly."

"It'd be better if you took a man with you."

"He's coming to our hotel. We'll just be in the lobby. It'll be fine, Darcy."

Will didn't look like he believed it would be fine, but he dropped the subject. "If he offers you the video, don't take it," he said. "If they don't know where it came from, we don't want it."

Lizzy nodded, and they went back to work.

Debate spin was an exhausting job, requiring almost as much preparation and skill as actually debating. They spent the entire debate and most of an hour afterward expounding upon some answers and deconstructing others. Lizzy had to admit the Gardiner team was better than most at it. Chuck was charming on camera, Charlotte was laser-focused, and Will and Richard had clearly grown up doing stuff like this.

It was half past midnight when she and Jane made it back to the hotel, and despite the fact that Lizzy never managed to talk to Wickham again at the debate site, he was waiting for her in the lobby. Lizzy nodded to Jane, who separated but stayed in the far corner of the lobby. Meanwhile Lizzy went up to Wickham and nodded. "Sorry I didn't catch you before."

"It's all right. Governor Gardiner did well tonight, I thought."

"Yeah, we were pretty pleased."

"She's going to be Zwillick's biggest competition," Wickham said, gesturing her to a nearby armchair. They sat down, and Wickham got to business. "So this tape..."

"Look, I've talked to my people," she said. "We don't want it."

"You don't want to see it?"

"We'll see it when everyone else sees it. You don't know where it came from, so we're not interested."

Wickham smiled. "That's what my boss thought you'd say."

Lizzy felt like the room had suddenly turned upside down. "I beg your pardon?"

"My boss thought you'd pass on it."

"Did you start this rumor about a tape?" she asked, incredulous.

"No, there's a tape," he said. "I think it's pretty amateur, but it exists. But my boss wanted to know how you'd react."

"Why?"

"Because you, Lizzy Bennet, are something else." He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I don't know where Governor Gardiner found you, but Senator Zwillick wants you on his team. As spokesperson and senior advisor."

Lizzy's jaw dropped, and for the first time in ages she was speechless.

Will had seen Wickham at various times in the last few months, when their respective campaigns crossed paths. He never imagined he'd have to deal with Wickham even tangentially. Will did get some primitive satisfaction from seeing the nose he'd broken years ago, but mostly he kept to himself.

Once in his hotel room he propped the door open with his suitcase and sat out of view of the doorway, knowing his room was between the elevators and Lizzy's. The post-debate high wore off fairly quickly for the staff, as most of them were heading for New Hampshire bright and early in the morning. It was nearly one o'clock before he heard Lizzy's voice coming from the elevator, along with Jane's laughter. There was no man's voice with them, so in some relief, he went to close the door.

It was almost shut when the women got close enough for him to understand what they were talking about. "He offered you a job," Jane said, breathless. "I still can't believe it."

"I know! This whole thing was a poaching expedition!"

Will froze, holding the door just barely open. He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop on them, but Wickham had been there to offer Lizzy a job? She was an amazing spokesperson and they were lucky to have her, but Will hadn't expected another campaign to attempt to steal her. Then again, maybe he should have expected it. If they lost the primary, he imagined Zwillick or whoever beat them would hire her before any of the rest.

The voices were moving down the hall, and instead of closing the door, Will opened it a little wider. "It doesn't matter that the money's better," Lizzy was saying. "If I didn't believe in Margaret Gardiner, I wouldn't have come here in the first place. Not even Will Darcy is that persuasive."

"But he's a little persuasive?" Jane asked, while Will's heart was suddenly pounding in his ears.

"A little," Lizzy agreed. "Maybe more than a little."

The women started laughing again and Will closed the door. For several moments he leaned against it, wondering what exactly she meant, what it meant for him, and definitely not thinking about Wickham anymore.

Chapter 4

Posted on 2014-03-24

We're six weeks away from the Iowa caucuses and nearly a year away from the general election, so it's time for everybody's favorite kind of statistical analysis: reckless!

Conventional wisdom has Zwillick wrapping up the Democratic nomination by South Carolina, but I just don't buy it. The latest Quinnipiac poll doesn't look good for him, and it's not the only one. You heard it here first: the trends are looking better and better for the Governor of Wisconsin, Margaret Gardiner.

Hal Preston, www.twoseventy.com, November 25, 2013

Despite his neutral accent and his liberal politics, Will Darcy was in some ways still a Southern boy. He hadn't spent a Thanksgiving in Pemberley, North Carolina in ten years and part of him missed it desperately. There were reasons the family avoided the town and the Darcy homestead around the holidays, but he wished they would exorcise the demons and have done with it.

Instead, he was in Matlock, California, a continent away from his old home. After the months of one hotel room after another, it was strange to be in his aunt and uncle's house, in a room he knew well. In recent months, it had become the people and not the surroundings that were more or less constant. He was used to Chuck knocking on his door early to ask his opinion on a passage, Jane's quiet and unyielding competence, the Governor's uncanny ability to change his mind, and Lizzy, always ready for a challenge, even if the next challenge was him.

His uncle and aunt's vineyard was like a monastery in comparison. It was probably what he needed, even if it put him a little on edge to be cut off from the campaign. He wasn't even all that cut off; Richard was here too. But he needed the break, the quiet. They all did.

Matlock Vineyard was peaceful this time of year, even with his cousins' children underfoot. Will spent a lot of time wandering the grounds, sometimes writing in his head but usually just trying to reconnect to something more permanent than politics. Of course, what loomed across the verdant valley from the house made it difficult for him to keep his head out of the clouds.

His grandfather's Presidential library stood on the next hill, like a Greek temple. Will was born in the middle of his grandfather's first campaign, and some of his earliest memories were of the White House. When he went to school he thought he would become a teacher, teach kids to write, but somewhere along the way his ambition changed. After his parents died, he felt the pull to follow in his mother's footsteps. He was too much like his father to want to run for office like Anne Darcy, but he wanted to serve the public. Anne and George Darcy both would have approved.

As he looked over the valley between the house and the library, his aunt approached and laid a gentle hand on his back. "Thinking about the Gardiner Presidential library?" she asked.

"Bite your tongue," he said. "I leave confidence to Richard."

"You two always did make an odd pair," Alice remarked. "So how is it going, really? I know better than to take Richard's account at face value."

"Honestly, it's going better than I expected," he told her as they walked away from the large glass doors. "Governor Gardiner is a good campaigner, but Richard and I are still a little worried that some of the interest in her is just interest in a female candidate."

"She's great in the debates."

Will nodded. "Yeah, much as I hate those debates, they've taken us up to the top tier. We're going to school after Thanksgiving, though. Time to make sure she can talk foreign policy."

"I'm surprised you haven't done that already."

"Well, domestic issues have been taking up enough time the last few months."

"When does Jim finally endorse?"

"Good question."

They walked along in silence for a second, until Alice suddenly said, "Oh, I've been meaning to ask, how's Lizzy?"

Will felt like he nearly tripped. "Lizzy Bennet?"

"What other Lizzy would I be asking about?"

"She's fine," he said in a voice he didn't quite recognize as his own.

Alice nodded, and for a minute Will thought he'd dodged a bullet. But his aunt was nothing if not perceptive. "You know, I've thought for a while you'd be perfect for her."

That time, Will really did trip. If his aunt noticed, she was good enough not to say anything.

Endorsement was the subject when they joined the others in the living room. "The thing is, I don't think your endorsement is going to stop the news cycle," Richard was saying. "If you endorsed someone else, sure, but your favorite son is running this campaign."

For that he got a slap to the back of his head from his twin brother Andrew. "I beg your pardon."

"How do you know I'm not thinking of Will, boys?" Jim said, amused. "He's like a son."

Will sat down with his sister and rested his arm on the back of the couch, behind Georgiana. "Are they boring you?" he asked.

"No, it's interesting," she said, completely unconvincing. "But you won't mind if Aunt Alice and I start talking about shopping plans for Friday?"

He pretended to go for a choke hold but the damage was done. "Georgie, we have to get some color in your wardrobe," Alice said. "Don't you get bored with all that black?"

"I'm a sign interpreter!" Gigi said, laughing. "People have to be able to read my hands!"

"Yes, but you don't work all the time."

"I'm trying to imagine a universe where I have two whole wardrobes."

"Gigi, I've seen your shoe collection," Will said, which earned him an elbow to the stomach.

A couple minutes later, the conversation had moved on to when Rachel, her husband and their kids would be there. Will's phone buzzed in his pocket. He murmured an excuse and headed out of the room while he answered it. "What can I do for you, Elizabeth?" He could feel the eyes of all his relatives boring into him as he left.

"Hey, Darcy," Lizzy was saying. "There's a small problem."

"Actually small, or are you trying to placate me?"

"I leave placating to Jane. We all have strengths; it's important to play to them."

"So what's the small problem?"

"The photographer you hired about ten days ago," she said. "Gina from the... Post-Intelligencer says she recognizes him. He used to take less highbrow pictures."

"You mean pictures of scantily clad girls."

"Not really clad at all, and women, we're hoping."

"And this is going to be above the fold in Seattle tomorrow?" When she didn't say anything immediately, Will frowned. "Wait, what's-her-name recognized him?"

"Took you long enough," Lizzy said, and he could tell she was smiling. "Gina wants fifteen minutes with the Governor when we swing through the Pacific Northwest after Super Tuesday."

"I'm confused."

"Well, she doesn't want to run that this guy used to take nudie pictures because then someone finds the pictures of her, but she thinks she's giving us a freebie by warning us and she's right."

"Right." Will ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Fire the guy. I'll run the other by Richard, but he'll be okay with it."

"Okay. Should I look at hiring a new photographer?"

"No, you should enjoy your Thanksgiving tomorrow, Lizzy."

"You too, Will."

He hung up and went back into the living room, where silence fell upon his entrance. "So, how is Lizzy?" Jim asked, while all eyes were on Will.

"Lizzy?" Gigi repeated. "What have I missed?"

"You're about to miss Pie Night," he told her.

"You can't cancel Pie Night," Alice said. "Your grandfather enacted this. I think it would take an act of Congress to cancel it."

"I'm not talking about canceling. I'm talking about eating all the pie myself."

As he expected, the outrage that followed quickly distracted them.

That night, after Rachel's family arrived and they all indulged themselves on pie as a pre-Thanksgiving ritual, he caught Gigi before she went to bed. "Something wrong, Will?" she asked. "You've been a little distracted."

"The campaign is crazy, but that's to be expected," he said, pulling her into the alcove at the end of the hall. "There's something we should talk about, Gigi. I've been thinking a lot about Pemberley. Maybe going there for Christmas."

"Really?" Her eyes were wide. "I mean, that'd be great, but I had no idea we'd ever..."

"I know."

Their last Christmas in Pemberley was spent storing decorations and opening the last presents they would get from their parents. Gigi was only twelve when George and Anne Darcy were killed by a drunk driver, and it was all Will could do to hold himself together for his sister. They'd both lived in North Carolina off and on since, but during the holidays, they avoided Pemberley and its environs religiously. There was just too much memory there.

But that was twelve years ago. It was time, past time.

Gigi was smiling tentatively. "Are we going to have everyone there?"

"I don't know. We've got time to make plans."

She hugged him abruptly, and Will held her tightly for a while. "Love you, Gigi," he whispered.

She let go of him, looking up as she stepped back. "Yeah, I'm pretty awesome." Will threw up his hands in mock disgust, and she signed to him, "I love you."

Will used what little sign language he knew to tell her to go to bed already.

"So how was your Thanksgiving, Jane?" Richard asked her, when the campaign finally caught up to her again, two weeks after the holiday.

"Oh, it was great," she said. "Most of the family was there, so it was hectic, but it was fun."

"You have fun everywhere," he teased.

"I suppose."

He smiled back at her. "Nice work in Portland, by the way. That money should let us hire someone to help out with scheduling and advance."

"I just showed up at the fundraiser and took their money, Richard."

"The people I talked to were very impressed."

Uncomfortable with the praise, Jane merely nodded.

They were camped out in New Hampshire now, in what used to be a real estate office. The volunteers were on the ground floor, senior staff in the loft above. With their cups of coffee, Jane and Richard moved to his desk. They were going to review the schedule for the rest of December as it stood now.

Jane and Richard were distracted by the other end of the loft, where Lizzy and Will were talking, although that was a generous description. Judging by the level of gesticulation, they were coming to the point where passersby would call it an argument. "Are they fighting about pie?" Richard asked, sounding incredulous.

"Unless that's code for something," Jane said. She thought she heard Will accusing Lizzy of arguing just to argue with him.

"One of these days they're going to snap, and either kill each other or jump each other."

"Let's hope it's not the former. Can you imagine the scandal?"

Richard laughed, and Jane smiled. "There's something kind of sweet about it, though," she added.

"About the possibility of a bizarre double homicide?"

"About inspiring that kind of passion in someone. I don't think I've ever done that."

He cast a glance toward the stairs, where Chuck Bingley was taking the steps two at a time. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," Richard said lowly, and Jane blushed. She'd had the occasional thought about Chuck, and even a couple fantasies. They didn't really know each other very well, though, so she was pretty sure Richard was off his rocker.

They finished their conversation about the schedule for the next couple weeks, and Jane went back to her desk. She was only in Nashua until the next afternoon, when she was off for another tour of rally sites and hotel ballrooms, trying to get everything for Iowa, New Hampshire, and South Carolina nailed down before Christmas. She hoped Richard was right, and there would be enough in the bank soon to hire another advance person. She really preferred flying with the team.

Chuck came to her desk a while later, as she was going over the details of the expense report for the campaign's last swing through Florida. "Hey, Jane," he said. "I thought you were off to South Carolina today."

"Tomorrow. It was going to be today, but there's a storm coming through tonight and I'm pretty sure the flight will be cancelled," she told him. "You need something? Juan's luggage got sent to Düsseldorf, so I'm going ten rounds with the airline on that."

"No, I've got all my... Düsseldorf?" Chuck said, laughing. "How'd that happen?"

"I have no idea, but I suspect this story is going to end with somebody going to Düsseldorf."

"I hear Düsseldorf is nice this time of year."

"Really?"

"Christmas in Germany?" he said. "Sure. I bet it's great."

"Maybe next year, then."

"Yeah."

Chuck was bouncing a bit on the balls of his feet. This wasn't unusual for him--he was generally a bundle of energy--but something seemed different. "You okay, Chuck?"

"Yeah, I just..." He looked around quickly, and spoke just as fast. "I just thought, if you don't have plans tonight, maybe you could get coffee or dinner or something with me."

Jane's hand froze in midair as she reached for a stack of receipts. "Really?"

He gave her a tentative smile. "Really."

"Oh," she blurted out. "I mean--yeah, that--that sounds great."

"Great!" he said, a little too loud. He seemed to startle himself. "That's... That's great." He stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. His open, friendly look had the girls down among the volunteers drooling over him. "Will's going to have my head on a platter if I don't have notes back to him on the new stump speech by the end of business, so let's say 7:30?"

"That'd be great," Jane said, knowing she sounded completely inane but she couldn't really help it.

"Great," he said, and they laughed together over the demise of their collective vocabulary.

That evening, as she was shutting down her computer and packing up for the night, Richard dropped by. "I hear you and Chuck are going out tonight."

Mortified, Jane froze. "People know about this already?"

"Relax, Jane. He told me himself. He didn't want to get you in any trouble for 'interoffice romance.'"

"I hadn't even thought about that."

Richard grinned behind his coffee mug. "Don't worry about it. I'm just wondering what it is with the women around here and speechwriters."

"You really think Lizzy and Will..." She trailed off, not knowing how to articulate it.

He shrugged. "I wouldn't have thought she was his type, but it's hard to ignore the possibility."

Jane frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Watch him sometime when she's in the room. He can't look away from her." He paused, looking at the assortment of papers she was gathering up. "What about Lizzy? Is Will her type?"

Jane bit her lip for a minute. "I don't know," she said, truthfully. "When we were in college, the guys she went out with weren't normally so... challenging."

Richard laughed. "I can believe that." He rapped her desk with his knuckles twice. "Have fun tonight, Jane."

"Thanks, Richard."

There was half an inch of snow on the ground when Lizzy arrived in Geneva, Illinois, where her mother lived, not Switzerland. Grass was poking up through the snow, actually, a look she'd always found slightly unnerving. She hated the interim, hated waiting for things to happen. The primaries were probably going to kill her.

Her mother was the same way, if she was honest. Inside the seventies ranch house, Fran was spinning all sorts of horror stories for how Lizzy's trip had gone wrong, all of which Lizzy heard about in her first three minutes in the door. She loved her mother, though, and knew all this wild concern was out of love. After the divorce, Fran and Lizzy were on their own for several years. Lizzy was still in contact with Thomas Bennet and on good terms, but he was more like a distant uncle than a real father.

Once Fran was done hugging her and incorrectly prophesying her demise, Lizzy hugged her stepfather, David, who was rolling his eyes. "Good to see you, Princess," he said quietly, kissing her cheek. "Your flight okay?"

"Which one?" Lizzy replied, laughing. "They all start to blend together after a while."

"Oh, Lizzy, sweetheart, Veronica Long says she saw you on the news last night," Fran said. "She thinks you're not eating well enough."

"Well, I'm probably not, but I don't think Veronica Long can diagnose me on B-roll."

"Dinner's ready," David said, intervening. "Caleb and Joe are..."

"Liz!" squealed a little girl in footie pajamas as she raced into the front room.

David knew when to get out of the way, and Lizzy was pretty sure his granddaughter ruled the kingdom whenever she was around. "Julie!" Lizzy said, scooping her niece off the ground when she was close enough. Julie's mouth was covered in chocolate, so Lizzy raised a brow. "Have you been a good girl?"

Julie shook her head, blonde curls swinging as she laughed.

Lizzy carried the toddler back to the kitchen, following after her mother and stepfather. Her stepbrothers were there, along with Caleb's wife Joanna. Julie squirmed to be let down while Lizzy was hugging everyone. "I'm sorry this has to be such a fast trip," she said as they were sitting down at the kitchen table. "We're ten days to the Iowa caucuses and fourteen to the New Hampshire primary. It's kind of remarkable Richard let anyone go home for two days."

Fran looked a little displeased, but Lizzy didn't confront her over it. She only had forty-eight hours here. Getting into a snit with her mother was a waste of time. "David, what kind of pizza have you made this year?" she asked instead.

"Dates and feta," David deadpanned.

"Really?" Joe asked, which made his father laugh.

"I've made good pizza, kids," David said, heading over to the kitchen counters to get it. "Now let's eat."

Joanna brought the conversation back a little. "Lizzy, what's the difference between a primary and a caucus?" she asked.

"A primary looks a lot like a general election, only your ballot is party-specific," Lizzy replied, going for the pizza with mushrooms and sausage. "You get your ballot, go into a booth, vote, and no one knows how you voted unless you tell."

"Right, so a caucus is...?"

"Completely different. Everyone in your precinct meets in a big room, where there are areas set up for each candidate. You stand over in the area for the guy you're supporting or in the undecided area, and then for half an hour you're allowed to try to persuade other people to join your candidate, whether from other candidates or the uncommitted group."

"This sounds intense," David said. "No big state does this, right?"

"No, no," Lizzy replied. "So they count after that half hour. Your candidate has to get fifteen percent, I think, to be considered viable. If any candidates aren't viable, their supporters either go to the undecided group or to another candidate. And you know, I said no big state does this, but in Texas the Democrats have a primary and a caucus."

"That's crazy," Joe said.

"That's Texas," Lizzy corrected, and they all laughed.

After supper was finished and the dishes were washed, they moved to the living room, where Julie played on the floor with her cars and Lizzy told stories of the campaign. Fran asked all the predictable questions about the men Lizzy was working with, and Lizzy was once again faced with the temptation to come home with a girlfriend next time, just to see how her mom would react.

An hour or two later, it was just the two of them sitting in the living room, lit only by the colorful lights on the Christmas tree. "I just want you to be happy, Lizzy," her mother said. "When you were in L.A., you went out with friends and did normal social stuff. You're twenty-eight years old, and now all you talk about is work."

"Mom, it's important work," Lizzy replied. "You know I wasn't really happy with my job in Los Angeles. This is an amazing opportunity to make a real difference."

Fran was noncommittal but let the subject drop. This, Lizzy suspected, was one of the ways in which she was like her father. She didn't imagine it was comfortable for Fran to see that trait reflected in her daughter.

Lizzy stopped talking about work so much the next day. There were plenty of other conversations to be had. Julie had a mountain of presents to open, and there were lots of family stories to be shared. Lizzy talked with her mother off and on all through the day, of little things and big things, trying to find a way to assure her that she was happy with her life right now, even if she didn't have a boyfriend and was living out of a garment bag.

The holiday was over far too soon, but with Iowa only eight days away, she couldn't spend any more time away from the campaign. As it was, she spent a few minutes every hour answering email from reporters or coworkers. The day after Christmas her stepbrother Joe drove her up to Madison, where she joined up with the Gardiners for a two-day trip to New Hampshire, followed swiftly by six days in Iowa.

They spent New Year's Eve in Davenport, and Lizzy spent most of it wishing she had driven home to spend the night there. It was only a couple hours away, after all, and it felt strange not to have made the effort. She called her mother a few minutes before midnight to wish her a happy new year. Fran sounded tired, but wished her luck in the coming caucuses.

Lizzy made the call outside. The staff was having a bit of a party in the Davenport office, making it too loud for a phone call. She stood outside in the quiet for a minute, even though it had started to snow. The door of the office creaked open, and she saw Will coming outside. "Is something wrong?" he asked. "It's too cold for you to be out here."

"It's not that bad."

"I'm from North Carolina. It is that bad," he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I don't understand why people stayed here after the first winter."

"Well, a lot of them came from similar climates in Europe," she pointed out. "And I've never understood why people stayed in the South after the first summer. Especially when you consider how much clothing they wore back then."

He chuckled quietly. "You have a point."

They stood in silence for a minute, breathing in the cold air. Lizzy always thought this was when snow was at its prettiest, before civilization got at it and it was still sparkling white. The world seemed very quiet, too, even when Will spoke again.

"So what are you doing out here?"

Lizzy sighed. "I was calling my mother. Too loud in there."

"Is she okay?"

"Yeah," she said, not having considered it much. "Still, I... I wish I'd driven over there to see her tonight. I could have come back in the morning."

"You don't want to drive that far on New Year's Eve," he said soberly. "Too many drunk drivers out."

"I hadn't thought of that."

She couldn't comprehend the look on his face, but it was too serious for her liking. "So are you going to stay out here as long as me to prove your manhood or something?"

"I can't be out here to keep you company?"

"Now I think you're just arguing with me for the sake of arguing."

He laughed outright, a rare thing for him, at the reminder of their argument a few weeks ago. He'd been right then, and she suspected she was right now. There was something astounding about this man and their ability to draw each other out. She'd never been so quick to argue with anyone else, nor so prone to enjoy it.

Inside there was a cheer; they both checked their watches and saw it was midnight. "Happy New Year," she said to the man beside her.

He smiled, and her breath caught in her throat for a moment. He was always handsome, but his smile made him more alive somehow, more real.

"Happy New Year, Lizzy," he replied. They looked at each other. For a second she tried to remember the last time she had a boyfriend to kiss her at midnight of the New Year but the thought was too depressing. Besides, she couldn't concentrate with Will looking at her, blue eyes searching her face. His fingers brushed her hair back from her cheek and Lizzy thought she was going to melt right then and there.

They moved toward each other, Will cupping the back of her head and wrapping his other arm around her waist while Lizzy held onto his shoulders. His lips were cold at first, and so were hers, but neither of them was deterred. Instead, Will held her a little tighter and she went up on her toes, shifting her body against his, trying to get closer.

He kissed her slowly, almost tentatively at first, like this was just a kiss to ring in the New Year. But it didn't feel that way, not at all. She gave him every encouragement, sliding one hand to the back of his neck, and he jumped a little at her cold fingers. Their lips separated for a moment as they laughed, but laughter turned to breathless little kisses until finally he coaxed her lips to part. Lizzy moaned quietly into his mouth when his tongue brushed against hers.

The sound of a car door opening startled them out of their embrace, and Lizzy felt her cheeks grow hot as she glanced around in case some one had seen them. Will was looking about restlessly too, at anything but her. She understood the feeling. For a second she wondered if she'd lost her mind, but deep down she knew it would take very little provocation to throw herself at him.

He was handsome, single, her boss, and a very good kisser.

There was no way this was going to end with her dignity intact.