Beginning, Section II, Next Section
"I'm very glad you like it," the man standing beside her said. "I'm a fan of real art myself."
"Lizzy Bennet, meet Albert Frank, the artist." Lizzy continued to blush as she shook his hand.
"It's beautiful," she said as she took in the large paintings of fruits and vegetables. The artist was enjoying the expression on her face as she struggled with her composure. Within a few minutes, however, they were conversing easily, and he spoke with the two women until he was forced to move on to greet other guests. At that point Olivia turned her attention to the space itself.
"This is an incredible space. Let's go up to the balcony." Lizzy followed Olivia as she wove her way through the crowd and made her way to the upper level. From that vantage point, Lizzy was better able to appreciate the design and layout of the space, in spite of the crush of humanity below her.
"You're right, this is a fabulous space. Is it new?" Olivia nodded.
"Albert said that this was the first show to be held here since the renovation. It used to be some sort of manufacturing facility." The two stood for a few minutes watching the party below. "So?" Lizzy smiled.
"Okay, genius, this was a good idea. Shall we go down and submit to the throng?" Lizzy and Olivia exchanged a nod, and went down to join the party. Will and Richard arrived a short time later. They were greeted by the gallery owner and the artist, both of whom were immensely satisfied with the space. The four chatted for a while, Will glancing around as they spoke. Richard was intrigued by the exhibit--he felt it was really too crowded to get a real sense of the space--so he wandered away to look at the paintings. He discovered one that he thought was extraordinary and returned to the conversation and spoke to Albert about it. Will eventually went in search of something to drink. As he crossed the room to the bar, he spied Olivia standing alone in front of the painting of which Richard was so recently enamored.
"Olivia?" She turned at the sound of Will's voice and smiled up at him.
"Hello, Will."
"I almost didn't recognize you," he said as Olivia looked down at her clothing a bit self-consciously. "Last time I saw you, you were decked out in your...uh--."
"Business attire? I don't usually wear my whites to parties," she replied archly.
"Are you catering this event?"
"No, I generally like more of a challenge than wine and cheese" she countered. "How are you doing?"
"I'm well. How about you?" Olivia smiled.
"Never felt better. So what brings you down to Soho? I see you as a more uptown gallery type." Will smiled at her comment.
"Very perceptive. However, I do like some modern art. I like this stuff," Will said as he gestured toward the painting of peaches behind Olivia.
"Yes, Albert is rather talented."
"You're a friend of the artist?" he asked with interest. Olivia leaned toward him conspiratorially.
"I knew him when he waited tables at Le Chanterelle." Will smiled and nodded.
"So that's why you're here," he concluded.
"Actually, I'm here because of another friend," Olivia said as she scanned the room for any sign of Lizzy. "She went off to use the facilities about ten minutes ago and I haven't seen her since." Will saw the genuine concern in her eyes, and thought it best not to detain her.
"Well, I'd better leave you to find your friend. My friend is around here somewhere, too."
"Maybe they're together!" Olivia grinned.
"I wouldn't be surprised," Will replied knowing Richard's penchant for attracting women. "Good to see you again, Olivia."
"You too, Will." The two separated, Will pausing to look back at Olivia. She was as pretty as he'd remembered and he briefly considered pursuing her and chatting her up some more. But she seemed concerned about finding her friend. Perhaps he'd get a chance later.
Will looked up and spotted Richard on the balcony. He crossed the gallery and mounted the steps to the upper level. When he reached Richard, his friend greeted him with a smile. Richard looked back toward the direction from which Will had come.
"So, what do you think?"
"In a word: lovely," Will replied, assuming that Richard was referring to the woman he had just been speaking with.
"I just bought it," Richard said with satisfaction. "A little pricey, but I really love it and it'll be perfect in my dining room." His face fell when Will frowned at him.
"We aren't talking about the same thing here, are we?"
"I'm talking about that painting," Richard said nodding to the large still life that Olivia had been silhouetted against while she spoke to Will.
"Oh," Will said as he scratched his neck sheepishly. "Nice." Just as the words escaped his lips, he caught sight of a stunning brunette. "Very nice," he murmured as he leaned on the railing and watched Lizzy glide across the floor. As if she was somehow aware of his compliment, she suddenly looked up at him. Their eyes met briefly, and Will smiled back at her. Lizzy looked as though she was about to respond, when she suddenly lowered her head. Will sighed in disappointment. He would have gone downstairs to seek her out but he was suddenly accosted by an acquaintance and became trapped. Lizzy meanwhile, tore her eyes away from the handsome man on the balcony at the sound of Olivia's voice. She spotted Olivia waving at her, and then looked up again. The man had disappeared. She sighed and pushed her way through the crowd to Olivia's side.
"There you are! I was beginning to think I'd never see you again!" Olivia said. She handed Lizzy a glass of wine, but Lizzy was more interested in the platter of canapés that was being offered by a waiter.
"Livy, if I don't get some real food soon, I'm going to faint," she confided as she licked a finger.
"Me, too! I could eat one of these paintings." Lizzy laughed.
"Now I know I'm really hungry, because I agree with you. Let's get out of here." Olivia nodded and the two women began to make their way toward the door, stopping briefly to speak with Albert. From the balcony above, Richard, who'd been only half listening to Will's conversation with a former client, spied Olivia as she reached the door and turned back to wait for Lizzy. He opened his mouth, tempted to shout across the room, but he realized that she probably wouldn't hear him any way. Moreover, he didn't even know her name. Richard made a promise to himself to wake up extra early Monday morning.
When Monday morning came around, Richard got out of bed early and was out of the house in plenty of time to reach Paul's shop by seven. When he arrived, however, he saw no sign of Olivia. He sighed and went to the counter for his daily cookie. The woman behind the counter had it wrapped and ready for him before he even opened his mouth. Richard bestowed a smile upon her and then turned when he heard Olivia's voice. She was speaking with Paul, and Richard waited somewhat impatiently for them to finish their conversation. Olivia said goodbye to Paul and turned to see Richard waiting for her, two cups of coffee in hand. She smiled as she accepted a cup.
"Hope you haven't been holding onto this since Friday," she smiled. Richard returned the smile, making Olivia feel a bit lightheaded.
"Sorry about that. I was detained by a conspiracy of circumstances that made me very late."
"I hope you didn't get into too much trouble." Richard raised his hand and showed his wounded finger.
"Other than this, the worst part of my day was missing you," he said with another heartbreaking smile. The two walked to the front of the store, where Richard paid for his purchases and followed Olivia outside. "Actually, I only missed seeing you in the morning. I saw you Friday night."
"You did? Where?" Olivia asked as she slowly walked toward her car.
"At the Aslanian Gallery. You attended the opening."
"You were there?" she pouted. Richard had predicted correctly. Her pout was all he imagined and more.
"I was up on the balcony when I spotted you from across the room. You were leaving, or I would have come down to say hello."
"I'm sorry I missed you," Olivia said sincerely. She looked down at her watch. "I have to go or I'll be late." She pulled her keys from her pocket and unlocked the door of her car.
"You know, I don't even know your name. If I had tried to catch you Friday night, all I would have been able to do is shout 'hey you!'" Olivia turned back to Richard and smiled.
"Well, what do you think I should be called?" While he wanted to know her real name, her phone number, her favorite color, and how soon he could make her name his, he was intrigued by the notion of continuing their game at another level--for now. He looked deeply into her eyes, reaching up to stroke away a strand of hair that impeded his vision. Olivia swallowed hard.
"Angel," he said finally, and Olivia blinked and released her breath. She wanted to say it was corny, but she found after a second's consideration that she didn't care. If that was how he saw her, then so be it.
"So what am I to be called?" Richard smiled with a hint of challenge.
"Cookie Monster," replied without hesitation. Richard frowned. It wasn't romantic, not that he had any preconceived ideas about what she should call him. He suspected that she'd already christened him with the moniker. And why not; she'd seen him buy at least one cookie every time they'd met. For a fleeting instant, Richard considered giving up his daily treat in order to earn a more respectable pet name, but he realized that (a) he loved his daily cookie, (b) he didn't want to give them up, and (c) his addiction to those cookies was what led him to meet his Angel in the first place. Olivia met his gaze evenly and he calmly accepted his fate. She could call him whatever she wanted to, so long as she continued to smile at him like that and make his day. She blinked again, and opened the car door.
"I thought you worked in the area," Richard remarked, not sure if he was prying beyond the boundaries of their little game.
"I do, sometimes," she said enigmatically as she fastened her seat belt. She looked up at Richard and, recalling Lizzy's warning, decided to say no more for the moment. She gave him a little wave and started the car. Richard stepped back and watched her go, but not before he committed her license plate to memory. He turned and headed for the office. An hour later, Will stopped in the doorway of his office.
"I figured out that if you get here at seven every morning and leave here at six or later every night--."
"Yes?" Richard asked without looking up from the blueprint he was studying.
"If we paid you by the hour we wouldn't be able to afford you." Richard chuckled, but he kept his eyes on the drafting table. "Seriously, Richard, you need to get a life." He finally looked up.
"I had one Friday, remember?" Will smirked.
"It was a start," he said as he came into the office and took a look at the plans of the table. "Is Tineke working with you on this?" Richard nodded.
"She's working out the load tolerances for this," he said, pointing to an archway. "She's a good addition to the team."
"That's why I hired her," Will said smugly. Richard shot him a look.
"You hired her because you wanted a protégée to mold into your own image and you liked her accent. The fact that she's also a competent architectural engineer was an afterthought." Will laughed at the accusation.
"You know, picking a fight won't change the facts. You sorely need a life, my friend." Richard laid aside his pencil and regarded Will for a minute.
"You mean you need a life. Isn't that what this is really about? Aren't you in here worrying over me because in reality you're really worried about yourself?" Will frowned and threw himself into a chair.
"No," he insisted. Richard walked around to his desk and sat down.
"No? And I suppose that petulant look is intended to convince me?" Will glowered back at Richard. "Tell me something: when are you going to get a life? You've been a caged bundle of frustration ever since--well, you know what since," Richard said. "What's eating you?" Will shrugged.
"I guess I am frustrated. I had such hopes for Erin and me, and had the rug pulled out from under me. I find myself torn between wanting to get back on the horse before I get gun shy and wanting to run off and join a monastery." Richard stared at him for a moment before he began to laugh.
"That has got to be the worst mixing of metaphors I've ever heard."
"Forget the metaphors, Fitz!" Will exploded. "My life is coming unhinged and I don't know how to stop it!" Richard frowned in concern.
"What is it you want, Will?" he asked gently.
"I want--I need to do something. My life has been in a terrible rut lately. I had only begun to come out of it before that disastrous date with Erin. Since then I've felt so--."
"Foolish? Taken in? Uncertain? Those are pretty common responses, under the circumstances. She played you like a violin, Will."
"And you let her. You knew she would, didn't you?" he accused. Richard sighed.
"Had I warned you, would you have believed me?" Will pondered the question for a minute and shook his head. "Hey, I had no inkling that things would happen as they did, but I knew that it was only a matter of time before she did something to destroy that 'perfect woman' fantasy of yours. You're too much of a romantic for your own good, Will. You let your heart dictate where your head should rule, or at the very least participate in the negotiation." Will sat silently for a few moments.
"What's wrong with being a romantic?"
"Nothing, Will. But you are in love with the idea of being in love, sometimes so much so that you haven't made wise choices. Need I remind you that you once had a thing for Caroline?"
"I got over it quickly," Will said with a wry smile.
"Yes, and before you lost any blood. You've got to be more careful, Willy boy."
"So what do I do now?" Richard sighed.
"I'm not advocating the monastery. But I think you need to go back out there with your eyes wide open this time. No idealizing every woman you lay your eyes on," Richard warned.
"You make me sound like a lovesick fourteen year-old," Will said crossly. Richard laughed.
"I'm just suggesting that you be more selective."
"Well, I have to agree with that."
"And as for your plaint about needing a life...you're right. We both need to find an outlet. Want to know why I come in so early every morning? To get a glimpse of someone that I saw in a shop a few weeks back. I've seen her every morning but one since then. Go on, laugh! You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"Who is she?" Richard shrugged.
"She's the girl of my dreams. But I intend to keep her there, at least for the time being. No wild fantasies about running off to Paris with her, or picking out names for our six perfect children--."
"Come on, I'm not that bad!" Will said defensively.
"What I need--what we both need, actually--is a real woman to become involved with."
"Your friend at the shop doesn't qualify?"
"Maybe, maybe not. It's too soon to say. But this discussion is about you. You need to get out and mingle with people. Friday night was good practice; you just need to do it more often." Will didn't respond immediately. His mind drifted back to Friday night and the image of the woman he had seen from the balcony. "Earth to Will," Richard called as he waved his hand before Will's eyes. Will caught the hand and pushed it away.
"You're right. You're always right. It's my life that needs help, I've got to get out more, I've got to meet people," Will sighed and rose to his feet. "That leaves one question."
"Which is--?"
"How?" Richard pointed to the door.
"Are you throwing me out?"
"I should. I've got work to do. But what I meant is get out there. Do something! Take in an exhibit at a museum, join a club, take up a new hobby."
"Go into shops and flirt?" Will teased. Richard sat back and smiled.
"Yes, but not on my turf." Will laughed and headed for his own office. He passed Amy's desk and graced her with a smile.
"Some days, they don't even have to pay me to be here," she smiled to herself as she continued to type.
Caroline dropped by the office to drop something off for her brother. According to Will, the one drawback to the new office location was that it was in a very hot shopping district, giving Caroline sufficient excuse to be in the neighborhood far too often for his liking. Indeed, she'd begun visiting the offices even before they were inhabited, touring the site as it underwent extensive renovations until she realized that Will was never there. On this afternoon, Will was just as fortunate. He had gone out to lunch early with a few of the staff, so when Caroline knocked on his door she received no reply.
"Will won't be back until 1:00," Amy informed her.
"I'll just leave him a note then," Caroline said, but instead of waiting for Amy to dig up a pad and pen, she swept into Will's office and sat down at his desk. Amy followed her, slightly alarmed.
"You shouldn't be in here." Caroline waved at the girl dismissively.
"I'll only be a moment. I need a pen." She started to pull open a drawer, but Amy dropped a pen in front of her. Caroline looked up at her, hesitantly, then picked up the pen and reached for the legal pad lying on the desk. She waited for Amy to leave, but the young woman crossed her arms and stood her ground.
"The phone is ringing," Caroline said in a saccharine tone, hoping Amy would take the hint. Amy reached across Will's desk, punched a button and picked up the receiver. She spoke briefly with Will, who had called to tell her that he was making a stop on the way back and would be delayed.
"I'd take my time if I were you," Amy smiled as she hung up the phone and resumed her vigil. Caroline sighed and scribbled out a message. She tore the page off the pad, noting as she did, that there was an open bulletin on the desk, with a cooking course circled in red marker. Caroline noted the page number and the course title and placed the note on top of the bulletin. Then she rose and, without acknowledging Amy, walked out of the office. Amy grit her teeth as she closed the door and returned to her desk. Caroline didn't go back to her brother's office. With a sly smile on her face, she headed straight for the elevators.
"So how many students will you have?" Lizzy asked Olivia as she packed up her cookies several days later.
"Well, the maximum class size is twelve and I think that the class is full," Olivia replied.
"And did your architect friend sign up?"
"I haven't seen the roster yet. I'll find out tonight." Olivia came out of the kitchen and went to stand at Lizzy's elbow.
"You know I can't write when you do that," Lizzy said exasperatedly.
"I haven't bugged you about it for a week, but have you thought anymore about my idea?" Lizzy sighed.
"Yes, I did. In fact, I even spoke to Randy about it and he liked the idea."
"Who's Randy?"
"Randy Peterson; he's the editor of Urban magazine."
"And he liked the idea?" Olivia prodded. Lizzy turned around in her chair.
"I was going to tell you about it later, but yes. He wants me to do a series on hobbies and activities for singles. He suggested that I actually go to the class, meet a single and follow him or her."
"What?" Olivia frowned. "What does that have to do with my class?"
"That's why I put off telling you. He thinks that the emphasis should be on the singles, rather than the activity itself. He has no problem with me giving your class a good plug, but he felt that it would be more interesting to read about how a single person uses your cooking class to meet people."
"Well, I guess that's better than nothing," Olivia sighed.
"There is some good news," Lizzy added.
"What's that?"
"He wants this as a major article, not just as part of my column. That means that there'll be photographs and much more space to devote to this story. He's really sold on this idea."
"Well, that's something. And it sounds like you've made nice points with your boss."
"I couldn't have done it without your help," Lizzy admitted.
"Well, you can make it up to me by saying lovely things about the class. Oh! So that means that you'll be coming to class with me." Lizzy nodded.
"Guess I'll have to. I'm afraid I might actually learn something, though."
"What the heck does that mean?"
"Well, I might learn how to cook something."
"What's wrong with that? That's the whole point of a cooking class, you know," Olivia laughed.
"Yes, but if I learn how to cook--." Lizzy pouted. Olivia laughed.
"It's okay, Lizzy. I'll still cook for you. Promise." Lizzy rose to her feet and hugged Olivia dramatically. "I've got to get going," Olivia said as she pulled away from Lizzy and went to the door where her cache of cookies awaited.
"Hmm. Was that perfume I smelled on your neck just now? And blush in addition to the usual lipgloss? Getting a little duded up for just delivering cookies aren't you?" Olivia smiled, but said nothing as she opened the front door and wheeled her cart into the hall. "You and your cookie man!" Lizzy shook her head disparagingly.
"Cookie Monster!"
"Do me a favor, Livy. Don't let your axe murderer friend get to you before I finish my story. I have a career at stake, you know," Lizzy said archly from her place in the doorway.
"Oh, he's a very considerate axe murderer. I'm sure he'll give you all the time you need before he drags me off into the woods and strikes me down."
"Good man!" Lizzy laughed as the elevator doors opened and Olivia disappeared. Lizzy turned and went into the apartment. She locked the door and returned to her desk. "Good man: exactly what I need." Her mind traveled back to a week earlier when she had seen that handsome man smile at her from the balcony in the gallery. She shook off the hazy image and tried to focus on her work.
Will arrived at the classroom/kitchen early, and took a seat to one side of the room. It looked different than he expected. In his mind's eye he had envisioned something akin to the home economics kitchen set up at his high school, a large room with six working galleys. This room was one large kitchen, with a huge counter down its middle. In addition, there were six ovens and two sinks. Will rose from his seat and removed his jacket. He went to hang it up on a hook near the door. On his way back, he heard his name being called. He froze in his tracks afraid of what he'd see when he turned around. But she would not be ignored.
"This is a pleasant surprise, Will," Caroline said as she followed him to his seat. As she approached, a tall blond woman placed her bag on the stool next to Will's. He audibly sighed in relief, but Caroline wasn't listening. "I was going to sit there!" she cried. The woman turned around in surprise.
"Sorry, but I got here first."
"But I was going to sit with my friend," Caroline persisted. The woman looked up at Will for the first time and smiled.
"Too bad." Infuriated, Caroline grabbed Will by the arm and turned away.
"Let's find some other place to sit." But Will wasn't interested in changing his seat. Nor was he particularly interested in sitting next to the blond, who was now ogling him as though he were dessert. He wisely kept silent, and was relieved to see that there were no other spaces that would accommodate two. "Bring your stool, Will." He started to protest, but was cut off before the words left his lips.
"It's not as though you're going to be sitting down that much," Olivia said as she entered the room wearing a crisp white jacket and an amused smile. "Why don't you take whatever seat is available and you can talk to your friend later." Will closed his eyes in silent thanks as Caroline released his wrist. When he opened them again he noticed Olivia's smile, which seemed to be mocking him. He smiled back, blandly, and returned to his seat. He nearly leapt out of it a minute later, when Lizzy entered the room carrying a stool of her own. She placed it a short distance from the counter around which the others sat. Will couldn't believe his luck. And to think he'd signed up for the course just to get himself out of the house!
He barely heard Olivia's introduction as she distributed aprons and materials to the group. He'd previously heard all about her background anyway. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the woman who sat diagonally across from him. Olivia said something about the woman, but she was done by the time Will came out of his reverie. The woman looked up and smiled and returned to her task. She seemed to be taking notes. Will's neighbor tapped his arm.
"It looks like we're going to be in a magazine. I love the idea of seeing my name in print." Will looked at her. He had no idea what she was talking about. The woman seemed to expect a reply, but Will turned his attention back to Olivia, who had stopped speaking as soon as the woman had begun. Olivia began to discuss safety rules and the woman nudged him again. "This should be fun." Will nodded almost imperceptibly. "Have you ever taken a cooking class before?"
Olivia sighed and turned toward the woman and cleared her throat. Her eyes met Will's and she had to suppress the smile that was elicited by the "help me" look in his eyes. Olivia calmly asked the woman--directly this time--to refrain from speaking until they were underway.
"In fact, I will ask that you all refrain from speaking while I lecture or give specific instructions. While you're working, of course, you can chat your heads off!" The class began with a discussion about the tools they'd be using. Olivia pulled out a lethal looking set of knifes and began to discuss the uses of each one. Then she laid them aside and suggested that the class get "suited up."
"The best way to learn is by doing. Let's begin by slicing, dicing, and chopping our vegetables. Then we'll move onto the meat." Will rose to his feet and went to wash his hands, as did the others. When he got back to his place, he found Caroline jockeying for position next to the blond, who seemed put out by the intrusion.
"Will?" Will looked up and saw Olivia's gesture to join him on her side of the counter, along with three other students. Caroline quickly began to follow, a look of triumph on her face. But Olivia stopped her with a stern look that immediately made Will envious.
"You're to work in pairs, and since there eight of you on that side now, stay," she said in a tone that did not invite rebuttal. Will joined his partner, a mature gentleman who, like Will, was completely at ease in a kitchen.
"Well, at least I'll be able to look at you this way," Caroline purred.
"Amen," said the other woman.
"Oh, brother," said Lizzy. Will turned to look at her. She looked up; a flicker of recognition lit up her eyes, and then she looked down again. Will didn't know quite what to make of her reaction.
"Will, I want you to meet my roommate, Lizzy Bennet. Lizzy, this is Will Darcy." She said the name with just enough inflection so as to make Lizzy aware that he was the architect in question. Lizzy took a moment to size him up as he extended a hand. He was the man she'd seen at the party a week earlier.
Good thing we didn't run into him. He was probably with one of those two bimbos, Lizzy concluded. You sure can pick 'em, mister! She shook hands with him and then made a show of wiping her hand on her pants. Will was miffed by her action. His hand was damp from just being washed but she'd reacted as though it was covered in filth. He turned his back on her and began chopping vegetables. Olivia was busy, moving from pair to pair to check techniques and to answer questions. When she came back around the counter she stopped where Will and his partner, John, were far ahead of the class.
"I already know you two have knife skills," Olivia smiled as she recalled the pleasant afternoon she had spent with Will acting as her sous chef. "Come here for a second, Will," Olivia said as she wiped her hands on a towel and walked a short distance away from the counter. He followed her, confused as to what she was about.
"As I said earlier, my friend Lizzy is writing about this class for a magazine, but her actual purpose is to write about a young single and his or her hobbies, if you get my drift."
"I don't get your drift." Olivia sighed patiently and explained the story concept.
"I was hoping you'd be willing to volunteer to be Lizzy's POV for this class. She needs to write about this class from the perspective of a student."
"POV?"
"Point of view. Think about it, will you? You don't have to, but I thought since I knew you..." Olivia gestured awkwardly. "Well, think about it." She went back to the counter, but Will stood for a moment, his eyes on Lizzy.
Think about it? You've got to be kidding! It's a no-brainer! I'd be insane to pass up such an opportunity. Lizzy looked up and listened for a moment to the conversation between Caroline and the blond, who'd been forced to team up and work together. Whatever they said made her turn and look at Will dubiously. Maybe I'd better subject her to the Richard test before I get too excited about this.
As the class went on, Lizzy rose and walked around the room, looking at each group's progress. She took a moment to look at each student to get a sense of his or her suitability for her article. She immediately discounted the two couples in the class, and John, who didn't fit the image of a young single. He was in fact a middle-aged widower with two teenaged sons. There were four women and three men in the class who fell into the category. However, she felt that the editor would think a gay person an inappropriate subject for her story. That narrowed the number down to six. Four, actually, Lizzy thought; no way was she going to work with either of the two women fawning over Will Darcy!
She looked at Will appraisingly. He caught her at it, and smiled to himself as he expertly cut up his chicken. Lizzy fumed at the smugness she saw implied in his look. If he's waiting for me to swoon he can hold his breath until Christmas!
Will's thoughts were very different, however. He was considering the possibilities that lie ahead. If she's not a single-minded, self-absorbed, man-eating, she-devil, like every other woman I've met lately. Except for Olivia, he thought as he looked at her admiringly. Lizzy saw his eyes wander to her best friend and shook her head.
"I think you're better off with your axe murderer, girl," Lizzy muttered to herself. But after a little while, she was forced to agree with Olivia's judgment. Will was the best subject for her story. The two women looked as though they weren't into the singles scene, and the other man was a bit nerdy looking. It wouldn't do to promote a geek as the archetypal single in the magazine. Will was young, obviously upwardly mobile, and very, very...photogenic. In fact, the more she looked at him, the more attractive she found him. Whoa, girl! Where's that professional objectivity they taught us about in journalism school? Don't get your hormones in an uproar! Have you forgotten that behind those huge brown eyes is an ego to match? Lizzy took a deep breath and returned to her stool. She found her proximity to Will distracting, even though he didn't seem to pay any further attention to her.
Lizzy watched Will from behind, however, impressed by his graceful movement, his easy banter with John and Olivia, and the way he gently resisted the almost constant attentions of nearly every woman in the room, including the married ones. Perhaps he wasn't so bad after all. But just as she arrived at that conclusion, she overheard a brief exchange with Olivia.
"Have you given any thought to what we discussed?"
"I have. It sounds like it might be a bit tedious, having a woman shackled to me for a whole day. But if you think it would be helpful, I'd be happy to help you out." Lizzy was incensed at his remark. Obviously, it wasn't meant for her ears but it stung nonetheless. She decided to give Will wide berth for the remainder of the evening. But when the students were done preparing their meal, and sat down at tables to feast upon the fruits of the labors, Olivia waved Lizzy over to her table. Lizzy was less than thrilled to take the only remaining seat between Will and John. The others at her table, in addition to Olivia, were the two women who had spent the better part of the evening attempting to gain Will's attention, and one of the married couples.
When Lizzy was seated, Will poured a glass of wine for her, and offered her some of the food he and John had prepared. It was delicious. Olivia did not stay seated for very long. She went around to each of the pairs at the two long tables and sampled each group's preparations. She returned to her seat satisfied.
"This is the social aspect of the cooking class," she explained to Lizzy. "After an hour or so of hard work--depending on what we're making that night--we get to sit and relax. The class turns into a dinner party...until it's time to clean up."
"This is my favorite part of the class," John said, echoing his teacher's sentiment, "Getting to sit with my classmates and enjoy a good meal." Lizzy smiled. She liked John from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him.
"When I'm lucky, I get the benefits of a good meal without any of the hard work that precedes it," Lizzy admitted. "It pays to choose one's roommate wisely."
"Like you had a choice!" Olivia retorted. "We planned this move to New York together since we were children."
"Don't you cook at all, Ms. Bennet?" Will asked, startling her. She had almost succeeded in forgetting he was beside her. She turned and looked at him, and immediately felt all the warmth that two chocolate brown eyes could convey. She also felt the cold stares coming from across the table. Lizzy opened her mouth to respond but was immediately cut off by a request for more wine from Caroline.
"Lizzy is a great cook," Olivia said. "Unfortunately, she's a better eater, and I'm far too willing to indulge her." Will smiled at Lizzy's slight blush.
"What do you like to cook, Ms. Bennet?"
"It's Lizzy," she said, not quite sure why she wanted to her him call her by her given name, "And I make a lot of things."
"Her rice pudding is to die for. But she only makes that on my birthday, unless I develop a fever higher than 103," Olivia quipped. Lizzy shot her a glare.
"I made it last month!" Lizzy replied.
"On my birthday," Olivia repeated. "It's sublime, folks. The creamiest, richest, most decadent rice pudding you'll ever experience."
"Sounds wonderful," Will said. "I'm a rice pudding fan from way back."
"When's your birthday?" John teased.
"Better yet, when will you be at death's door?" Lizzy added perversely. But Will smiled.
"My birthday, I hope, will come first," he said with a smile that made Lizzy lose her grip on her fork. She cleared her throat as Caroline interrupted. She welcomed the distraction. How the heck was she going to survive a whole day in this man's company? Oh, yes, she recalled. He was the typical handsome bachelor, fully aware of his attractiveness over women and all too eager to exploit it. Oh yes, and he had lousy taste in women. Any man who would surround himself with the likes of those two--she looked across the table at the blond, who seemed about ready to launch herself across the table and attack her. What on earth is wrong with this woman? Lizzy thought to herself. She glanced at the man on her right and understood. Will was still smiling at her, saying something. Lizzy hoped that he hadn't been speaking to her. But why else would he be looking at her like that? Olivia came to her rescue.
"It's useless trying to negotiate with Lizzy, Will. I've been trying for years to get her to work out some sort of deal for a rice pudding exchange. She won't even do it for a chocolate cake."
"If I made rice pudding whenever she asked, we'd both weigh 300 pounds," Lizzy said. "I'm doing her a favor by refusing to make it."
"Well, if I asked you to make it only once..." Will left the sentence unfinished. Please, Mr. Darcy! Do you really get away with that? I suppose you do, don't you? I imagine you get away with quite a bit. Lizzy smiled noncommittally.
"I'm telling you, Will, you're wasting your time. And if you do manage to wrest a bowl of rice pudding out of her where I failed, I'm changing the locks on the door," Olivia said with a pointed look at her friend.
"You can rest assured, Livy. Your friend here isn't going to talk me into anything," she said with a glance in his direction. His eyes seemed to take her remark as a challenge, and Lizzy was suddenly unsure that she'd be able to keep the promise she had just made. Will Darcy struck her as the kind of man who could easily make a woman forget any promise she'd made, and that thought disturbed her greatly.
"So, when are you and Will going to get together?" Olivia asked as she pulled dishes from the dishwasher and put them away.
"You make it sound like a date, Livy!" Lizzy said as she reached for a dish and began to help. "And the last thing I'd want to do is go out with that man." Olivia paused and stared at her.
"Are you kidding? He's the nicest guy I've met in ages."
"Nicer than your axe murderer?"
"Too soon to tell. And I do wish you'd stop calling him that."
"Has he told you his name yet?" Olivia was forced to admit that he hadn't, and Lizzy wasn't impressed by Olivia's decision to use pet names. "I'm sure he readily agreed to it. Makes him harder to trace later." Olivia rolled her eyes and reached for another plate.
"Getting back to my original point, Will's a great guy. I'm sure you'll discover that when you've spent more time with him." Lizzy eyed Olivia carefully.
"You like him, don't you?"
"Sure. Why?"
"I don't understand you. If you're interested in Will, why are you wasting time with the axe murderer?" Lizzy felt a damp sponge bounce off her shoulder.
"Lizzy!"
"Tell me about him." Olivia closed the dishwasher and hopped up on the counter.
"He's tall, blondish, with gorgeous blue eyes and a very nice build--."
"I meant Will!"
"Oh," Olivia said, a bit surprised by Lizzy's sudden interest. She seemed to have a low opinion of Will after their first meeting, and Olivia had been concerned that Lizzy's dislike might interfere with the story. But, Olivia noted, she had brought up his name on at least three occasions since then. Perhaps she liked him more than she realized.
"Will is the kind of man you wished you were involved with whenever you had to bring a guy home to meet your parents. He's handsome, charming, well mannered, knowledgeable, cultured, and accomplished. He tells polite jokes, makes people feel welcome and comfortable in his presence...and he likes to laugh."
"Sounds dreamy. So why does he spend his time with bimbos like Caroline and Jennifer, not to mention that Erin?"
"They were just part of the class, Lizzy. I don't think he actually brought a harem with him."
"I heard Caroline says something about meeting him at the office before the next class." Olivia shrugged.
"I didn't hear that. But I'm more interested in the time you're planning to spend with him."
"Jealous?" Lizzy asked without hesitation.
"Jealous? Of what?" Lizzy smiled and opened the refrigerator for a bottle of water. She went into the living room, Olivia following after helping herself to a ginger beer. "So, will you call him to set something up, or will he call you?"
"I don't have his number," Lizzy said. "He said that you had it." Olivia swallowed a mouthful of her fizzy soda and went to the laptop that lay on the coffee table. She gently pushed Squeaks aside and opened it. She brought up Outlook and scanned her address book for Will's contact information. She turned the computer toward Lizzy, who jotted down several phone numbers. "I see you have his home address," Lizzy said teasingly.
"I went to his house to cook for him, remember?" Lizzy's smile faded.
"Oh, right. So, is there anything else I should know about him?"
"I thought the idea of your spending time with him was for you to get information about him," Olivia countered.
"It is, but I'd like to know what I'm dealing with."
"A man, Lizzy; a very nice man."
Olivia's curiosity was aroused one morning when Richard appeared with a large tube-shaped case slung over his back. She resisted the temptation to ask about it, and instead indulged her imagination as she headed uptown in her car. He might be a graphic designer. She had noticed his hands; the long graceful fingers seemed to indicate an artistic bent. She had thought he might be a musician, but she had never met a musician who went to work at that hour. He wasn't on his way home, either. He'd mentioned something about being late getting out of the house. Besides, he always smelled like he'd recently showered. There was always a fresh, citrusy, lemongrassy, somethingy scent about him that Olivia looked forward to every day. Yes, perhaps he was a graphic artist. He definitely didn't have the hands of an axe murderer.
Richard bounded into his office full of nervous energy. He was in excellent spirits as he put a container of milk into the refrigerator and began to grind beans to make coffee. He went to his office to engage in his morning ritual. He scanned The New York Times and sipped his coffee, occasionally nibbling on his daily cookie. He looked up when he heard Will come in a half-hour later. Will's arms were filled with grocery bags. Richard rose to assist him.
"Cooking again?" he asked as he took a bag from Will's arms.
"We're having a staff meeting this afternoon," Will said. "I thought I'd make macaroni and cheese, maybe a little salad to go with it," he smiled as he followed Richard to the kitchen. Will put his bags on the counter next to the one Richard had deposited there and poured a cup of coffee before he began to sort through his purchases. He put a couple of bunches of bananas on the counter, and bags of grapes into the refrigerator. Then he took a quart of milk and three different kinds of cheese from another bag.
"I bought milk," Richard said.
"Yes, but I'll need more to cook with," Will said at he washed his hands. He unwrapped the chunk of cheddar and opened the cabinet looking for a grater.
"Whoa! You're making lunch now?" Richard asked.
"Yes, I'll put it together now and bake it just before the meeting." Richard sat on the counter and watched Will work. At first the banter was about meaningless things, but as the minutes went by, talk turned to business. When Tineke came in, she joined the men in the kitchen and the trio talked their way through a problem that had been plaguing Richard's project for a week. When they emerged from the kitchen, Richard had a smile on his face.
"I have to give it to you, Will. The kitchen was a great idea. That 'meeting' kind of reminded me of late night talks with my dad. We used to sit at the table with a cup of cocoa and solve all the problems of the world," he said nostalgically. Will grinned and headed for his office, where he began the day's work in earnest. About a half hour before the staff meeting, Amy knocked on Will's door.
"Will? You asked me to let you know when it was 12:30." He looked up and thanked her. He ambled down to the kitchen and turned on the oven. He placed his casserole inside and went to the refrigerator for salad greens. He looked up when he heard Amy at the door. "What are you up to?"
"I'm making us lunch."
"Get out!" Will smiled.
"Really! Look!" Amy went into the kitchen and Will opened the oven.
"So let me get this straight," she said. She started to tick something off on her fingers, but thought better of reciting her list aloud. Will glanced up at her, waiting for her to say something. "...And you cook, too?" She heaved a dramatic sigh and went back to her desk. Will shook his head and resumed his chore.
Will left the conference room and went into his office to answer the phone. He picked up the receiver and overheard a female voice muttering something about the male ego.
"Hello, Lizzy," he said with an amused smile. He swore he could hear her blush, as she stammered a hasty reply.
"I was calling to arrange a date for me to interview you," Lizzy said as she quickly regained her composure. Will reached for his desk appointment book and flipped a page.
"I assume you want to do it Monday. That's the day of our next class--unless you want to see me sooner."
"Yeah, right," Lizzy murmured. "Uh, no...Monday will be perfect. I just need to know where to meet you and what time."
"That depends on where you'd like to start. Would you like to come to my apartment or start at the office?"
"Let's just start at your office, shall we?" Lizzy rolled her eyes. "I can get the thrill of seeing your personal habitat another time." Will chuckled to himself as he gave her the address of the office.
"I look forward to seeing you on Monday, Lizzy."
"I can hardly wait," she drawled. Will held the phone for several seconds after the line went dead. Charles came to stand in the doorway.
"Are you all right, Will?"
"Fine," he smiled and shook himself out of his reverie and hung up the phone. Monday is going to be very interesting. I was afraid that Lizzy Bennet would turn out to be as insufferable as Caroline, but she is proving to be a very different kind of woman; sassy, quick-witted as well as beautiful, with a sense of humor to boot. Yes, Monday should be very interesting, indeed. Will rose to his feet and went to the door. "Fitz?" he shouted, giving Charles an apologetic look when he winced at the noise.
"Yo!" came Richard's crisp reply.
"Are you in the office Monday?" Richard glanced at his desk calendar.
"Yeah, pretty much all day."
"Terrific!" Richard would be around to meet Lizzy. Will could hardly wait.
An interesting dilemma confronted Richard when he reached the bakery counter Monday morning. There were not one, but two, cake plates stacked high with cookies. One held his familiar oatmeal; the other was a batch of spicy-scented ginger cookies. He stood at the counter, stumped. Olivia emerged from Paul's office and walked over to the counter, where she peered at his confused expression.
"Good morning," she assayed.
"Yeah," he replied absently. Olivia frowned.
"Are you all right?" Richard nodded.
"Just trying to make a choice." Olivia bit her lip to hide her smile.
"Live dangerously. Try the ginger cookie." Richard's head spun around to look at her.
"You think? Well, they are really good."
"Oh? You've tasted them before?" Richard nodded.
"They're awesome," he said. "But I'm kind of a traditionalist..." He suddenly brightened. "Would you care to have breakfast with me? I'll get one of each and we can have the best of both worlds." Before Olivia could answer, Richard placed his order. Olivia shook her head and retreated to the coffee station and poured two cups of coffee. Richard went to the counter to pay, and the pair walked to her car.
"I don't have a lot of time, but we can eat in the car." Olivia opened the doors and she and Richard got in.
"Should I break them in half, or would you prefer to rough it?" he asked with a disarming smile.
"Let's rough it," Olivia said, knowing that she wouldn't be eating much of either one. She put her coffee into the cup holder and broke off a piece of ginger cookie.
"We should have done this sooner," Richard said as he opened his coffee. "Have breakfast together, I mean." Olivia smiled.
"Given our respective schedules, I wouldn't have thought of it. We're both running off to work."
"Not exactly. You have somewhere to get to, but I don't technically have to be in the office for another hour and a half, at least." Olivia's mouth fell open.
"Then why are you always here so early?" Richard colored slightly.
"Force of habit, I guess. For a while, when some work was being done in our offices, I actually had to be in early to oversee the site." Afraid that he'd sound like a complete flake if he told her the complete truth, he said no more. He had no way of knowing that Olivia silently hoped that she'd influenced his decision to continue coming in early. "Hey! The scent of this cookie has permeated the whole car," Richard said as he inhaled deeply. Olivia smiled. How could he know that there were sixty more cookies identical to the one in his hand in the carton on the back seat? Olivia sipped her coffee and simply enjoyed his presence beside her. The two chatted easily, about the weather, their favorite music, and their mutual love of comfort food. Because Richard's praise of her cookies made her blush, she steered the conversation elsewhere.
"My best friend makes the world's greatest rice pudding," Olivia said, regretting not confessing her responsibility for the cookies earlier.
"Sorry, but I beg to differ. My grandmother makes the world's best rice pudding," Richard gently insisted. "I should know. I was raised on the stuff."
"Really?" Olivia challenged. "Is it light as a feather, yet rich and creamy? Does she plump her raisins in a bit of rum?"
"Madeira, actually. And she serves hers warm."
"Is there any other way to eat it?" Olivia asked as though any alternative was unthinkable. Richard looked at her for a moment.
"Are you best friends with my grandmother?" Olivia laughed at the suggestion.
"If my roommate were your grandmother I think I would have noticed sooner." Richard laughed, but he noticed Olivia's quick glance at her watch and suggested that it was time he got going.
"I'm sorry I can't stay longer," she replied apologetically.
"It's okay. I have to make a long distance call to Europe, anyway, and this is actually the ideal time to do it." He carefully wrapped up the remaining chunks of the two cookies and offered them to her. Olivia declined, saying that she had to watch her figure. "Oh, I'd be happy to do that for you," he winked as he closed the car door. Olivia blushed becomingly, and Richard stood at the side of the car for a few seconds to watch the color suffuse her cheeks. He finally backed away from the car to let her drive off. Olivia waved goodbye as she started the engine.
"See you tomorrow, Cookie Monster."
"Bye, Angel," he said softly.
Will entered the office carrying a small shopping bag along with his briefcase. He dropped the case on his desk and headed for the kitchen. Richard heard him arrive and followed him down the hall.
"Morning," he said as he reached for the coffee. Will grunted a response and raised a cup to Richard, who filled both cups as he glanced at the bag. "Now what--petit fours for tea?" Will shot him a withering glance.
"Actually," he replied, "I'm making lunch...for two." Richard frowned.
"Come again?"
"I told you about our visitor today," Will said as he put groceries into the refrigerator on a shelf that was reserved for his exclusive use. "I thought I'd make her lunch."
"Trying to impress the lady, or poison her if things don't go well?" Richard quipped. Will sighed and pushed Richard aside as he went to the pantry for a small container. Richard watched in amusement as Will filled the container with water and stuffed bunches of herbs into it. "Flowers too? Will, you sly devil!" Will's glare looked slightly dangerous, so Richard grabbed his mug and evacuated the room. He caught a glimpse of Will a short time later, pacing the space in front of his office.
"Will?" Will looked up. "What are you doing? You're going to drive Amy insane doing that."
"He could do that standing still," Amy deadpanned. Will glanced at the secretary and went into his office. Richard pursued him as he sat down and ran a hand through his hair.
"Don't tell me you're nervous?" Richard said incredulously. Will's eyes shot up, and he knew that denial would be futile.
"It's silly, I know, but I'd really like to make a good impression." Richard nodded.
"A word of advice, then," he said as a slow smile spread across his face. "Get rid of that cow lick you just made." He went back to his office grinning broadly. Will leapt out of his seat and made a beeline to the men's room. When he returned, Lizzy was sitting in his office waiting for him. He saw her legs first. She had just crossed them and the gesture made Will stop in his tracks. He took a deep breath and continued to the door.
"Good morning," he said as he entered the room. He walked around to his side of the desk and extended his hand. Lizzy took it as she eyed him coolly.
"Nice office," Lizzy said. "I didn't realize that you were one of the owners."
"A principal."
"Excuse me?"
"A partner in an architectural firm is called a principal," Will gently corrected. He noticed that Lizzy wasn't writing anything; she hadn't even taken out a pad. He briefly wondered at that. Perhaps she wanted to just chat a bit before the interview began in earnest.
"How long have you been in business?"
"We've been in business for three years now, but we moved into this space only a month ago." Lizzy looked around.
"And you specialize in this post-modern, high-tech industrial...crap?" Lizzy finished lamely, at a loss for a better word. Will bristled at the remark.
"Exactly what is that supposed to mean?"
"This," Lizzy gestured at her surroundings. "This kind of stuff--."
"You mean this 'stuff' you just said was a nice office?" he retorted, incensed at her hypocrisy. Where does this woman get off walking in here and insulting me like that? "And no," he continued, making his displeasure plain, "We don't specialize in 'post-modern, high-tech industrial crap.' We specialize in giving our clients what they want and need. Palladian windows and hand painted murals on the ceilings seemed a little out of place in a business office." Lizzy paled, stunned by his outburst. For his part, all Will's nervousness was gone, and he sat back and waited for Lizzy to pick up the gauntlet.
"Ceiling murals would be way over the top in this space," she said playfully after the briefest of pauses, her eyes focused upward. "Not to mention pricey. I always thought they were a bit pretentious, anyway," she countered gamely. Will smiled.
"Unless the building in question is over a hundred years old, of course."
"Of course," Lizzy said, bringing her eyes down to met Will's, relieved that she seemed to have recovered from her slip of the tongue. But Will wanted to make it clear that he wasn't about to let her off the hook too easily.
"Well, since you hate the décor, I'll spare you a tour," he said archly. Lizzy started and Will felt a twinge of satisfaction. "So, how shall we do this? Do you want to just sit there and observe or would you rather have a formal interview?" He raised his eyebrows and awaited a reply. Lizzy cleared her throat and reached into her bag and pulled out a pad.
"Why don't we start with an observation? I really don't want to be intrusive; why don't you try and forget that I'm here?"
Fat chance, lady! Lizzy rose and went to look at the art on the wall as Will turned to answer the phone. He found that he couldn't keep his eyes off of her, and he stared at her unabashedly as he spoke with a contractor. Lizzy could almost feel his eyes on her back as she tried to concentrate on the image before her. She wanted to turn around and say something. No, she wanted to turn around and slap his undoubtedly smug little face, but in deference to the fact that he was on the phone, she restrained herself.
The art on the walls surprised her. It wasn't the abstract modern art she would have expected. There were three paintings in the office, two of which were easily a hundred years old, if not earlier. The third painting was a rather naïve but charming watercolor that was signed "Darcy." Lizzy turned her attention to the objects on the shelves below. There were boxes--hand-carved wooden boxes--everywhere, interspersed between books and a few small bronzes.
"It's outsider art," Will said as he hung up the phone. Lizzy spun around and Will pointed at the box she had her finger on. "It's also known as folk art. I've been collecting boxes since I was a boy. I must have at least fifty or sixty by now."
"Oh." Will shrugged and turned back to his desk. He brought up a file on screen and began to manipulate an image of a building under construction, looking for the elevation that had prompted the contractor's call. "What's that?" Lizzy asked curiously.
"These are the schematics for a building I designed. It's currently under construction in New Jersey." Lizzy pulled her chair over and sat down to watch. Will worked in silence for a few minutes until he found the trouble spot. He picked up the phone and dialed a number. "Okay, Roger, I've brought up the elevation. Let's see if we can work this thing out." Lizzy backed her chair off a few feet, and crossed her arms. She'd gotten off to a rather rough start with Will courtesy of the foot she'd placed in her own mouth at her earliest opportunity.
Why do I always do that? I go spouting off my mouth before I even have a chance to consider the impact that my words might have. I didn't mean to call it crap, even though it is crap. And anyway, I am hard-pressed to believe that a man with his taste in art could seriously say he doesn't think this stuff isn't crap! Will glanced at her and frowned at the odd expression on her face. Lizzy quickly buried her face in her notes and pretended to write.
Richard sat in his office going over a new client's blueprints when the telephone rang. He absently picked it up and said his name absently.
"Are you sure?" Richard quickly snapped into focus.
"Uh, hello," he managed as he abruptly swallowed his gum.
"Oh, dear. You don't sound at all well."
"I'm fine, I assure you. I--."
"Perhaps I ought to be the judge of that. Noon? Usual place?"
"Yes, ma'am!" Richard smiled and hung up the phone.
An hour passed in relative silence. Will was almost able to forget Lizzy's presence, save for an occasional question. She found his work to be far more interesting than she had expected to and found Will to be very enthusiastic and willing to talk about it. They got on fairly well, the initial tension forgotten as they fell into discussion about architecture. After a time, Will remembered his manners and offered Lizzy a cup of coffee. She said she'd love some and to Will's surprise, when he rose to go to the kitchen Lizzy followed.
"So how many architects do you have working here?" she asked as she looked around the kitchen Olivia had told her about.
"Six," Will said as he reached for the milk. "There's Richard and myself, Anne, Morgan, Danielle, and Tineke." Lizzy made a face.
"Tineke? What kind of name is that?"
"She's Belgian," Will replied. Lizzy smirked.
"So, in other words, you and your partner have surrounded yourselves with a stable of female architects," she surmised.
"My partner and I hired ourselves a stable of competent architects, some of whom happen to be female."
"Some?"
"Morgan is a father of two." Lizzy had the good sense to color as Will put the milk away. "What is your point?" he asked. Lizzy shook her head. "I thought you were here to do an interview, not to provide a running critique of me and my business."
"I..."
"You what? Look, I'm sorry if you find this assignment less than scintillating. I'm sure you'd rather be somewhere else writing the great American novel, but you aren't. You agreed to spend this day, at least, writing an article about my role in your friend's cooking class. I should think that you'd be professional enough to set aside whatever prejudices you have against me for the moment to do your job! Why don't we just get on with it so we can get it over with as quickly as possible, hmm?" Lizzy's mouth fell open. Will stood there, palms on the counter, glowering at her. He hadn't raised his voice one decibel, but the words cut through her as easily as if he had shouted at the top of his lungs.
"I...I--." Lizzy was too shocked to respond. Will immediately lowered his head and shook it.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Olivia was rather excited at the prospect of the article and very proud of the fact that her best friend was going to get to write it and her newest friend was going to be in it. Right now, neither of us is being of much use to her." Lizzy was disarmed by his last remarks, appealing to Olivia's concerns rather than his own. Whatever words of anger had sprung to her lips as he spoke all faded away and she stood there, speechless. Will sighed and unbuttoned his cuffs. He walked over to the sink as Lizzy watched in confusion. "Are you hungry?" he asked tiredly, as he rolled back his cuffs and washed his hands.
"Uh...a little," she managed. Will dried his hands on a towel and opened the refrigerator. He began to pull things out and place them on the counter. "Do you always make your own lunch here?" Lizzy asked, taking care to speak in a neutral tone.
"Sometimes," Will replied. "But I thought, given the nature of your visit, I'd make us lunch today." Lizzy went to the sink and washed her hands. Will glanced up at her in surprise, but when she turned around he casually tossed her the towel and continued to work.
"So what are we having?"
"Olivia said you liked tuna, so I thought I'd make a Salade Nicoise." Lizzy smiled in spite of herself.
"You asked Livy what kind of food I like?"
"What else should I have done?" he asked reasonably. Lizzy shrugged. Things were suddenly very weird; the man who'd been chastising her a few moments ago was standing before her making lunch. He'd even gone so far as to call Livy to find out what she liked! Will Darcy was not the man she'd expected him to be. "Did you wash your hands so you could help, or are you just watching to see if I'm going to poison your helping?" he asked after a moment.
"I wouldn't blame you if you did," Lizzy sighed. Will shook his head.
"Too easy." Lizzy looked up sharply, but relaxed a bit when she saw his easy smile.
"What do you want me to do?"
"Olivia said you'd make the vinaigrette." Will went to the cupboard and pulled out the oil, mustard, and vinegar, then went to the refrigerator for the herbs. He gave Lizzy a bowl and a whisk and then returned to his own chores.
"I don't suppose we could start over..."Lizzy assayed after a few minutes of silence.
"Not a chance."
"I see."
"I'm not trying to be difficult," Will explained. There just isn't any point. Neither of us is likely to forget what happened, are we?"
"No," Lizzy was forced to admit.
"And neither of us is really interested in hearing your half-hearted apology, correct?" Will asked as he reached for two plates and began composing the salad.
"What? I...no," Lizzy conceded.
"So let's just move on, shall we? Anchovies?"
"Love them," Lizzy said dully.
"Good woman!" Will said enthusiastically. Once again, Lizzy looked up at Will and tried to figure him out. "Caper berries?"
"Can't have too many, in my book," she replied automatically.
"So what's it going to be about?" Will asked, as he sliced tomatoes with an ease Lizzy had only known Olivia to manage. She was caught off guard by the question, and frowned in confusion. "The novel you hope to write," he said with a slight smile. Lizzy felt she was being mocked, so she responded in kind.
"A romance, naturally."
"Loosely based upon your own fantasy life, right?" Will persisted, as he arranged the tomato slices on the plates.
"Yeah, right. I was thinking about using you as the model for the jerk the heroine gets involved with before she meets the man of her dreams." Lizzy instantly regretted the remark, but Will's smile did not alter.
"You mean the one she pines for after the man of her dreams turns out to be a colossal disappointment?" Lizzy's mouth fell open, but her expression quickly turned into a smile.
"Maybe."
"Maybe he's not so much of a jerk after all," Will said mildly.
"Or maybe she has a thing for jerks," Lizzy heard herself say. Where did that come from?
"I certainly hope so. We jerks need the love of a good woman as much as any man. I take it your heroine is a good woman?" Lizzy suddenly felt very warm.
"I...I never said you were a jerk."
"But you did use me as the prototype for one," Will accused gently. Lizzy blushed.
"Well...you wouldn't want to be the man of her dreams, would you? He'd end up all alone, in your scenario."
"But it's your story. You could improve on it. After all, I'm not the writer here." Lizzy nearly drowned in Will's amused gaze. He had rendered her speechless and she knew he was enjoying watching her squirm. She turned her attention to her own task, but she had difficulty concentrating.
"So, is keeping women off balance a regular part of your courtship technique?" Lizzy asked. Will looked up, surprised by her comment. "I am here to talk about your bachelor life," she said, grateful for the chance to see Will unbalanced for a moment. He opened his mouth to reply, but was distracted when Richard entered the kitchen. He snagged an olive from Will's fingers as he headed for the refrigerator for a bottle of juice.
"Oh, Richard. Allow me to introduce Lizzy Bennet. Lizzy, this is Richard Fitzwilliam, my partner in the firm and my best friend in life," Will said. Richard wiped his hand on a towel and extended it to Lizzy.
"How do you do?" she smiled.
"Terrific! How's the interview coming along?" he asked conversationally. Before Lizzy could form a polite reply, Will answered.
"Horribly." Lizzy glared at him. "Fitz and I have no secrets," he explained.
"I...I thought we had begun to get on a bit better," Lizzy said hopefully.
"You think so?" Will asked as he completed the salad composition and stood back to admire his handiwork. "I must not be paying attention." Richard looked from one person to the other and decided that he'd best make himself scarce. Whatever was going on, it'd probably go better without him.
"If you want lunch, there's plenty left over. I could make you up a plate," Will offered.
"Thanks, but I'm off to take lunch with GB. In fact, I'd best get going. She doesn't like it when I'm late." Richard backed out of the kitchen and disappeared.
"GB?"
"His grandmother. GB is short for Grandma Bess. Shall we move into the conference room?" Will reached for a tray and placed the plates, forks and napkins on it. "What would you care to drink? Take a peek in the fridge." Lizzy sighed and turned to the refrigerator. Inside she found an assortment of juices, bottled water, and sodas. Lizzy turned around to ask a question and found that Will had disappeared. She shut the refrigerator and started to go looking for him. When she reached the door she collided with Will's chest. He instinctively reached out and caught her by the arms.
"I'm sorry," he said catching her before she could fall backward. "Are you all right?"
"Fairly good, considering I've just collided with the living equivalent of a stone wall," Lizzy said. Will chuckled softly as he released her and went to the refrigerator.
"Did you choose something?"
"Bottled water."
"I should have guessed," he said. "Women always choose bottled water." He reached in and grabbed a bottle. From an upper cabinet, he retrieved two glasses.
"Well, you don't have any diet soda," Lizzy complained.
"You don't need diet soda," Will said as he led the way down the hall. Lizzy wondered whether that was meant as an insult or a compliment and decided that she wanted to know which it was.
"Do you like women with fat hips, Mr. Darcy?" she asked as she entered the tastefully appointed conference room and sat down at the seat Will held out for her, much to her astonishment.
"What does the size of a woman's hips have to do with anything? Why do women always obsess about the size of their hips?"
"Answer the question," she challenged, as she unfolded her napkin. Will had not only brought in the food, he had set the table! If keeping women off balance was his technique, Lizzy imagined that he used it very successfully.
"I like women with definable hips." He paused to consider. "I like women who like their own hips. Do you love your hips, Lizzy?" She gaped at him, her forkful of tuna momentarily forgotten.
"I..." The look in his eyes seemed to intensify. "I have a love-hate relationship with my hips. It's not easy living with a chef, you know." Will clucked at her reproachfully and dug into his salad. "I suppose you love your hips."
"I love all of me. In fact, I am completely satisfied with myself--and before you misinterpret that remark, I mean that I am completely comfortable in my own skin. Well, most of the time, anyway," he amended. "Things could stand a bit of improvement." He looked at Lizzy, half expecting a caustic reply. But she was rather pensive.
"And you think that if I were to do what I really wanted to do--write books--I wouldn't worry so much about my hips." Will smiled at her, the first smile Lizzy felt comfortable with all day.
"That's a gross oversimplification, but I wouldn't argue with it."
"Thanks." The two ate in silence for a while. "You never answered my earlier question." Will raised his eyebrows. "This salad is marvelous, by the way."
"Thank you," Will replied, as he opened the bottle of water and filled Lizzy's glass. "What was the question?"
"Do you make it a habit to keep women off balance?"
"No," he smiled impishly. "But if you think it works for me I might add it to my repertoire." Lizzy rolled her eyes.
"Oh, you needn't switch your techniques on my account. Would you mind if I grabbed my recorder and taped this conversation?" Will had no objection, but as Lizzy left the room and returned with the small machine, he wondered aloud why she was interested in taping their lunchtime discussion. "I thought, since we seem to have arrived at the topic, we might continue to talk about your personal life. Do you mind?"
"Not at all," Will said, suddenly feeling a bit nervous as to what she might ask. But he reminded himself that his personal life was exactly what Lizzy was there to investigate.
"Do you have any other hobbies, aside from cooking and collecting boxes?"
"Several. I am currently restoring a house--."
"Isn't that a professional endeavor?" Will shook his head.
"It's my own house and I work on it on my own time. I'm doing all the work myself, with Fitz's occasional assistance."
"What kind of house is it?" Will smiled smugly as he described the ten-room Victorian handyman's special he had purchased on a whim two years earlier.
"Why did you buy a wreck?" Will smiled at her naïve question.
"I like fixing things. As a kid I got a set of Lincoln Logs and never got over it. That's why I became an architect, I guess."
"They had Lincoln Logs in England?"
"My Aunt Catherine sent them to me from America."
"How long have you been in the United States?"
"About fifteen years. My sister and I came to the United States after my parents died in an accident. We came to live with my mother's sister. That's where I met Richard. He was living with his grandmother. He'd lost both his parents, too, so we had a lot in common when we met." Lizzy was moved by his story, but realized that she had strayed from the subject. Nonetheless, she couldn't resist asking one question.
"Where is your sister now?"
"She's back in England. She met her husband there when we went back to visit several years ago. Georgiana is a happily married mother of two. She's also an artist. I have one of her early works in my office," Will said proudly. Lizzy smiled.
"Let's get back to the subject--your hobbies and interests. I can't imagine that renovating a house is the ideal way to meet women. But have you ever met anyone at a flea market?" Will thought for a moment.
"You mean have I ever deliberately gone to a flea market to meet women? I can't say that I ever thought of it."
"Aha, but have you met any?" Will's eyes opened wide.
"Well, yes, but I've never gone out with any of them. Most of the time they only speak to me to try to sweet-talk me out of something I've already laid claim to."
"And you've never flirted with a woman at a flea market to get a bargain?" Lizzy asked, intrigued.
"I never thought of it." Probably don't have to, either; I bet women just offer you all kinds of deals, Lizzy thought as she savored an olive.
"So you've never thought of a flea market or an auction as a place to meet the opposite sex?" Will shook his head. "Had you considered that a cooking class might be a good place to meet women?"
"Well, to tell you the truth..." Lizzy looked at him in anticipation. "Well, I signed up for this class because of Olivia. When she came to cook for me, I was so impressed with her I thought her class might prove interesting." Lizzy read a great deal into his comment. She smiled as she continued to eat. Lizzy asked about his cooking experience with Olivia and Will recounted his pleasant afternoon spent preparing the meal for the worst date of his life. He assumed that Lizzy knew about it, and so he had no qualms about talking about the evening and how it made him decide to get out and do something fun without the pressure of the social scene. Will had arrived at precisely the topic Lizzy had hoped to elicit from him. She was delighted--she'd just about given up all hope of a successful interview prior to lunch. There was a knock on the door. Amy appeared and glared at Lizzy.
"I hate to interrupt," she lied, "but your cell phone has been ringing continuously for five minutes now." Lizzy excused herself and leapt from her seat. She returned from Will's office a few minutes later, ashen-faced.
"What on earth is the matter?" Will blurted out when he saw her face.
"I...I have to leave. My mother is ill; they think she may have had a stroke. I'm sorry, Will. I have to--." Will rose, took Lizzy by the arm and gently led her back to his office. He picked up her bag and handed it to her. Lizzy took it from him numbly. Will walked her to the elevator and when the door opened, she turned to say goodbye but he stepped into it beside her.
"Where are you going?" she asked.
"To get you a cab," he said. They stepped outside and Will went to the curb and immediately flagged down a cab. "Where are you headed?" Lizzy named the hospital and Will helped her into the car. "I hope everything turns out well for your mother," he said simply.
"Thank you," Lizzy said absently. "I'll have to call you--."
"Don't worry about that now. Your mother needs you." He stepped away from the car, gracing her with a compassionate smile and watched as the cab took Lizzy away. She turned and looked back at him for as long as she could. A thousand thoughts ran rampant through her mind--her mother's welfare being her most prominent concern. But amid thoughts of her mother, her sisters, and her estranged father, Lizzy found a second to ponder her morning's experience. She headed uptown convinced that Will Darcy was the most extraordinary man she'd ever met.
Richard entered the restaurant and paused for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. He spied his grandmother at her usual table and nodded to the hostess as he strode past her. He reached the table and bent to kiss his grandmother's cheek.
"Hello, gorgeous," he said cheekily as he slid into a chair.
"Impertinent scamp!" Bess said as she handed him a menu. "What was that all about on the telephone earlier?"
"Oh. I was absorbed in something when you rang. You just caught me off guard."
"Then everything is all right?"
"Couldn't be better."
"How's Will?" Richard made a slight face.
"Now him you should worry about," he chuckled.
"Why?"
"Last time I saw him, he was making lunch for a beautiful woman, but he looked as though he'd just as soon be dangling her out the window by her feet."
"Is he still making a fool of himself over women?"
"This time it's business," Richard smiled.
"What sort of business?" Bess asked. Richard grinned.
"You can never tell with Will."