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Will shook off the memory and tried to concentrate on his work but his mind, more often than not, insisted on worrying about Lizzy. He briefly considered calling Olivia to see if there was any word on Mrs. Bennet's condition, but he figured that Olivia was very likely with Lizzy, and he didn't want to intrude. The remainder of the afternoon went very slowly for Will. When Richard came back from an afternoon meeting in the field, he poked his head in and was surprised to find Will alone.
"What happened to your shadow?"
"Gone. She had a family emergency and had to leave."
"Nothing serious, I hope." Will shook his head.
"I hope so, too." Richard pulled up a chair and sat down.
"What was all that stuff about in the kitchen earlier?" Will felt a wave of guilt wash over him, and he ran a hand through his hair.
"We didn't get off on the right foot. I gave her a pretty rough time of it."
"You? Mr. Smoothie, Treat-a-Woman-Like-a-Goddess Darcy? And I missed it?" he laughed. Will smiled weakly.
"She called your design for the office 'post-modern high-tech industrial crap.'" Richard laughed again. "I let her have it between the eyes with both barrels."
"Defending my honor? What a pal!"
"It wasn't funny, Fitz! She walked right in here and insulted us. She even accused us of surrounding ourselves with a 'stable' of female architects," Will reasoned.
"Why didn't we think of that?" Richard smiled.
"After that, the gloves were off."
"So I take it you did poison her lunch?" Richard asked as he tried to pull himself together.
"Well, no. We actually had a pretty nice conversation over lunch, until the call came."
"Poor kid. So she'll have to come back, I guess." Will shrugged.
"I suppose so. I doubt if she has enough for her story and she was supposed to come with me to class tonight."
"I hope she does come back so I can have a chance to talk to her. I think I like her already."
"I doubt that you'll feel that way after you've spoken with her. She has a pretty big chip on her shoulder."
"Maybe she just doesn't like you, Will." Will sat up in his chair and gaped at his partner. "It's possible. Not everyone has the wherewithal to fall hopelessly in love with you, you know." Will glared at Richard, who laughed again.
"You really think she doesn't like me?"
"What difference does it make if she doesn't? She's just here to do a story. After that you'll probably never have to see her again."
"She's Olivia's roommate."
"Your chef friend? Hey, is there something simmering between you and the chef?" he asked, smiling at his own pun.
"No. Not that I--I mean...she's a really nice--do you really think Lizzy doesn't like me?" Richard studied Will's face for a second.
"Oh, no..." he winced.
"What?"
"Will..."
"Just answer my question!"
"Will, you haven't got good sense God gave geese!"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Will frowned.
"It's one of GB's sayings. Loosely translated, I think it means you're about to run headlong into a wall again."
"Huh?"
"You've fallen for Lizzy Bennet."
"No!" Will answered a bit too quickly.
"And she hates you--."
"You really think she hates me?" Richard shook his head.
"Honestly, Will, I don't know. I didn't have a good chance to observe. When I saw her she seemed to be in a state of shock for some reason," Richard said accusingly.
"Well, try to be here when she comes back, if she comes back," Will said dejectedly. Richard watched him for a few seconds and then silently rose and left the office. Will sighed and returned to his worrying.
When Will arrived at class that evening, he was in poor humor. He sat beside John and steadfastly ignored Caroline and Jennifer's attempts to attract his attention. Olivia entered the classroom looking somewhat somber. She glanced at Will before she began her lecture and when the class separated into teams, Will quickly went over to have a word with her.
"Is there any word on Lizzy's mother?" Olivia smiled for the first time.
"Yes. It turns out that the stroke was a very mild one, and as far as they can tell, there doesn't appear to be any serious damage. Keep your fingers crossed." Will heaved a sigh of relief. "By the way, Lizzy asked me to thank you for your kindness to her today. She said she was in complete shutdown mode and you helped her get started again. Thanks for being such a good friend, Will." He wasn't sure he was deserving of such a compliment, so he merely nodded and went off to work.
Caroline had managed to find a new partner for the second class, and maneuvered things so that she ended up in the space next to Will. He noted this with a sigh, but was too absorbed in his own funk to worry about it. He did the vegetable prep while John put the rice on to boil.
"Vying for the teacher's pet award?" Will looked up at Caroline in total confusion. "The way you're sucking up to Olivia is a bit nauseating." Will stifled his instinctive response and turned back to his work. "Really, Will, she's not your type," Caroline hissed. "She's pretty in the common way, I suppose, but let's face it. She's a cook!"
"Your point is?" he growled.
"Do you really want to become involved with a woman who cooks for a living?"
"Why did you sign up for this class, Caroline?" Will asked innocently. Caroline paled and was silent for the next several minutes. John flicked Will a smile and the two began to discuss a restaurant they were both fond of. When the conversation waned, Will's thoughts returned to Olivia's message from Lizzy.
Maybe she doesn't hate me after all. "Or maybe," Will muttered to himself, "She is just able to separate one thing from another. Still, it's an opening." Will started when Caroline spoke.
"Talking to yourself, Will?" she purred.
"Well, John has gone to the restroom and I was in need of intelligent conversation. Who better to speak to?" His eyes met Olivia's smiling eyes across the counter. Caroline huffed and spent the next twenty minutes fawning over her male partner in an unsuccessful effort to attract Will's attention. When it was time to eat, Will claimed a seat beside Olivia.
"Lizzy will probably call you in a few days to reschedule," Olivia said. "And I hear you made a killer Salade Nicoise."
"I can't claim the credit," Will smiled. "It's Julia Child's recipe."
"But it's the hands of the cook that makes the difference," Olivia replied in teacher mode. "It's not simply a matter of putting together the right ingredients, it's how you put them together that matters." A member of the class asked a question while Will pondered her words. His train of thought was derailed by a light poke in the ribs.
"And who is Lizzy?" Caroline demanded.
"Lizzy is the woman who was here last week with Olivia," Will answered curtly.
"And what does she have to do with you?" Will sighed and explained about the article.
"Why were you chosen for the article? It seems to me that it would make more sense to look at the matter from a woman's point of view." Will rolled his eyes.
"I suppose that's up to the writer," he said, sorry he'd ever discussed the issue with her.
"I'll just bet it is! She just pranced in here and picked out the best looking man in the room. Well, we know what she does to meet men!" she hissed. "Olivia had better watch out. The girl's got competition," she sneered. Will shook his head and hurriedly finished his meal. When it came time to do the clean up, Olivia pulled Will aside.
"You look wiped. Does it have anything to do with your lady friend over there?" she asked knowingly. But Will shook his head.
"It has more to do with events that took place earlier in the day. Lizzy's situation brought to mind the day I learned about my parents..." Olivia put a reassuring arm on Will's shoulder. He had spoken of his parents briefly when she was at his house and she recalled how emotional he had become.
"We're just about finished here. Why don't you call it a night? We'll finish up and you can do extra KP duty next time." Will smiled gratefully and pulled off his apron. Caroline saw him packing up and rushed to his side.
"Where are you going?"
"Home, Caroline. I've had a very rough day." Caroline began to remove her apron.
"Can you give me a lift?" Will grit his teeth as he put his neatly folded apron into his bag and closed it.
"No, Caroline. I don't have my car and you've still got work to do."
"Well, why do you get to leave early?"
"Caroline, I don't have the energy for this." He sighed, trying to reel in the temper that was dangerously close to being unleashed. "Goodnight. I'll see you next week." He looked over at Olivia and waved. Then he walked out of the building and hailed a cab. He closed his eyes and tried not to think for the few minutes it took to reach his apartment. When he got there, he threw down his bag and pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. He went up to his bedroom and got undressed, not caring where his clothes flew. He lay back on the bed and sipped his beer in the dark room, with thoughts of Lizzy dancing through his head.
Early the next morning, Olivia carried a tray into Lizzy's bedroom and cleared her throat to rouse Lizzy from her slumber. Lizzy had her back turned, and had been awake and staring out the window for some time.
"You consider that a wake up call?" she said.
"You want this or not?" Olivia replied with mock annoyance. Lizzy turned over and Olivia placed the tray across her lap. It contained a mug of coffee, a glass of orange juice, a goat cheese and herb omelet, toast, and homemade hash browns.
"You're an angel, Livy! Thank you," Lizzy said as she lifted the mug to inhale its heady aroma.
"How are you holding up this morning?" Olivia asked, taking a seat on the side of the bed.
"I'm okay. I finally fell asleep around two. It took me that long to unwind, can you believe it?"
"Yes, I can. You were on quite an emotional rollercoaster yesterday."
"Two of them," Lizzy said.
"Huh?" Lizzy sighed and recounted the details of the awkward morning she'd spent with Will.
"That doesn't sound at all like the Will I know!" Olivia exclaimed.
"How well do you know the Will you know?" she countered. "One minute he was gracious and charming, the next he was Don Rickles!"
"Who's that?"
"A comedian who used to--never mind. Suffice to say, the whole morning was a disaster," Lizzy sighed. "And I have to subject myself to it all over again."
"Well, it didn't sound like a complete disaster to me, and I suspect that things might go a lot better next time if you don't say anything incredibly stupid," Olivia said pointedly.
"Me! You should have heard him--."
"Rise to your bait? You set the standard, Lizzy, and it was low. I have never seen one iota of the person you claim to have spent the morning with. Sorry, girl, but you have to take full responsibility for this one."
"But he wouldn't accept my apology!"
"Good for him!" Olivia laughed as she rose. "Hey, I'd love to stay and watch you squirm in remorse, but I have a date with the Cookie Monster."
"Don't you have to make deliveries?" Lizzy asked archly.
"Oh yeah; that too!"
Olivia arrived at the store a bit late that morning. Making Lizzy breakfast had put her slightly behind schedule and she ended up having to park nearly a block away. She nearly collided with Richard as she entered the shop.
"Hi," he said as his face lit up in a brilliant smile. "I was afraid I'd missed you. My whole morning's gone wrong. No cookies, either. Paul said they should be here any second and I've been waiting." Olivia blushed.
"I have the cookies right here," she said, hefting the container in front of her.
"You mean you deliver the cookies every morning?" Richard shook his head. "I should have figured it out."
"I probably should have told you," she replied as she walked to the counter with Richard at her heels. "So what's your choice going to be today? You can't have two cookies every morning; you'd gain twenty pounds before you knew what hit you." Richard took the container from her hands and held it as she carefully offloaded the specified number of cookies onto each plate.
"I love the ginger, but I think I'll stick with my routine."
"Good man," Olivia said solemnly as she handed him an oatmeal cookie.
"Do you want that wrapped?" the woman behind the counter said. Olivia sheepishly took the cookie from Richard and handed it to her. It was returned, neatly wrapped, in seconds. Olivia handed it back to Richard and the pair walked over to the coffee station.
"So I'm beginning to learn some things about you," Richard said as he poured coffee into a cup and handed it to Olivia.
"Really?" she replied archly. Blue eyes met green and smile met smile. "Like what?"
"Like the fact that you deliver cookies for a living." Olivia laughed, and the sound was like music to Richard.
"Mr. Cookie Monster, you think that if it gives you pleasure." And so he did.
Richard sat on his terrace and let the cool evening breeze wash over him. He sipped from a tall glass of iced tea and recalled his conversation from that morning. It had haunted him all day.
"I won't be here tomorrow," the woman he knew only as Angel had said as they walked to her car.
"No cookies?" Richard replied instantly, his face contorted in mock horror. Olivia laughed and reassured him that she had arranged for someone else to make her deliveries. Richard listened to her arrangements, but in reality it wasn't his breakfast he was worried about.
"So Char will make my deliveries, but she's not a coffee drinker."
"It doesn't matter; drinking coffee with her just wouldn't be the same." Richard was pleased to see a blush rise in her cheeks. "Am I allowed to ask why you won't be around tomorrow?"
"You may. I'm going home to visit my dad. He lives in Pennsylvania, where I was born and raised."
"Oh, nice! Just a visit to the old home front, then?"
"Yes. I haven't been home in ages, what with my schedule--."
"Your arduous cookie delivery schedule?" Richard quipped.
"Precisely," Olivia replied in spirit, "Plus, the old geezer misses me." Richard nearly spluttered his coffee across Fifth Avenue.
"Does he know you call him that?" An amused Olivia nodded.
"Yes, and he loves it!"
"Well, have a great time in Pennsylvania," Richard said. "I'll miss you," he added softly.
"I'm very glad to hear that," she returned.
"Why?"
"Because the feeling is mutual. Have a good weekend, Cookie Monster. I'll see you on Monday."
"You, too, Angel."
Richard sighed. How was he supposed to have a good weekend when he felt so incredibly lonely? It was true that he would only be deprived of one day of her company, and he'd survived the separations of four weekends now. But this was different. The one other time he had missed her on a weekday it had been an accident. This time she would be gone. He would not be arriving too late. Angel would not be there at all. He couldn't even look forward to the possibility of a note, couldn't sniff the air in hopes that a whiff of her soft vanilla-scented perfume remained behind. He would be alone tomorrow.
Those cookies, the thing that made him visit Paul's shop initially, had at some point begun to pale in comparison to the allure of a few stolen minutes of pleasure with a complete stranger. It suddenly occurred to Richard how much he'd come to depend upon those few minutes to make his day. Richard rose to his feet and leaned on the railing to take in the view. Perhaps it was time to stop playing games and move on to the next step. He wanted to know more of her. He wanted to know everything about her. He would have settled, for the moment, for just learning her real name. Angel seemed somewhat evasive earlier in the week when Richard has asked whether she delivered cookies all day. Did she have something to hide? Was she already involved with someone else and just view her morning chats with Richard as a harmless flirtation?
The lack of answers frustrated Richard. He missed the green eyes and endearing smile of a woman he could not even accurately identify. Worse, she was consuming his every waking thought, something Richard deemed unfair. She isn't somewhere in Pennsylvania pining over me, I'll wager. Not that I'd mind... Richard drained the last of his glass and turned to go back inside the apartment.
"Whoever said 'absence makes the heart grow fonder' was a genius. A sadistic genius."
Will walked outside and sat in the large Adirondack chair that afforded him a view of the garden. He took a sip of his Merlot and sighed. He was ready for a quiet, relaxing evening, and he had all the necessary components at hand: a glass of wine, a Schumann concerto playing in the background, and a good read on his lap. He opened the book and located the page where he'd left off and was just settling comfortably when the telephone rang. Will decided to ignore it, but after a few rings he cursed under his breath and rose to get it. Before he reached the phone he heard Lizzy's voice when the answering machine kicked in and accelerated his pace.
"Hello, Lizzy. How are you?"
"Hello, Will. I'm fine."
"And your mother? Olivia said you had gotten some good news when I spoke to her."
"Yes, my mother is doing very well. She had a mild stroke and there doesn't seem to be any serious damage to her motor skills or brain functions, although she's not quite herself yet."
"Well, that's to be expected, I suppose."
"So the doctors say. But they do expect her to make a full recovery."
"I'm very happy to hear it." Lizzy paused a moment before she continued.
"Will, I want to thank you for helping me the other day."
"There's no need. You looked a bit shell-shocked and I just thought I should get you moving."
"I had already worn out my welcome anyway," Lizzy said with an uneasy laugh.
"Not at all. In fact, I should apologize--."
"No, Will. I think you were right the other day. There's no point--not that I wouldn't forgive you-- but maybe we should just try and move on."
"I thought we'd begun to move on very nicely until that call came," Will admitted. Lizzy smiled and felt a great burden being lifted from her shoulders.
"I'm glad you feel that way. We do have to continue the interview, I'm afraid." It was Will's turn to smile. He was actually looking forward to seeing her again, although he'd been denying that fact to himself all week.
"Monday?"
"Uh, no. Monday will be a problem. My mother will be getting out of the hospital on Monday, gods willing, and--."
"You'll be needed at home, of course," he finished for her.
"Yes; that's why I was wondering...I know it's very short notice...would you object to my coming back tomorrow instead?"
"Tomorrow?" Will reached for his appointment book and flipped to Friday. "Would you mind sitting through an hour-long staff meeting? Actually, you wouldn't have to sit through it. You could go out for a break or something, but you might want to stay because I generally cook for staff meetings."
"For the whole staff?"
"I cooked for the staff for one meeting. A few others have volunteered to cook, so tomorrow's meal is potluck."
"And what are you making?"
"I haven't decided yet, but since everyone's bringing something from his or her cultural heritage, I suppose I'll have to bring something British-American."
"Sounds scary," Lizzy said before she could stop herself. She placed her hand over her mouth and silently cursed her sharp tongue.
"I was just thinking the same thing," Will laughed. "That sounds dreadful. But I could always make an apple pie. You Americans think you invented that, but it's really British, you know." Lizzy smiled at his indignant tone.
"Do you make a good apple pie?" she asked.
"You'll find out tomorrow."
"I look forward to it." Will's grin lit up the room as he hung up the phone and returned to the garden. He had no sooner sat down than he realized something.
"Blast!" He rose and collected his book and wine glass. "I suppose if I'm going to make an apple pie I'd better go out and buy some bloody apples." He grabbed his keys and headed for the door.
When he arrived at the office the following morning shortly before eight, Will was surprised to discover that Richard had yet to arrive. He smiled to himself, suspecting that Richard was with his lady friend, having succumbed to his fantasy. Perhaps, he thought, he had persuaded her to go to breakfast with him. But by 8:30, Will grew somewhat concerned when there was no sign of him. When Amy came in he asked her to check his calendar, but Richard had no off site appointments that day. Will was dialing Richard's cell phone number when he heard a slight commotion outside his office. He looked out and saw Lizzy, who smiled at him and stepped around his clearly annoyed secretary.
"Good morning," Lizzy said as she put down her bags.
"Good morning," Will replied, casting Amy a reproachful glance as he closed his door. "You have to forgive Amy; she gets a bit territorial."
"You mean jealous?" Lizzy said bluntly. "I noticed." Will shook his head.
"Have a seat."
"Thank you. How did your pie come out?"
"Well, I found some lovely berries at the market last night and decided to make a grunt instead."
"Excuse me?"
"A grunt."
"What on earth is a grunt?"
"It's a British pudding," Will replied. "You'll taste it at lunch."
"I can't wait. I love pudding." Will tried to suppress a smile as Lizzy dug into one of her two bags for something.
"Speaking of taste, I brought something of my own for you to try." Will raised his eyebrows as Lizzy placed a Pyrex casserole on his desk. "Consider it a peace offering." Will leaned forward and inhaled the aroma that wafted from the warm vessel.
"Shall I get us a couple of bowls and spoons?" Lizzy nodded. "Coffee?" She nodded again. Will opened the door and headed for the kitchen. Lizzy briefly considered following him, but decided against facing the young woman who was already glaring at her through the open door. Lizzy could feel the eyes boring into her back and wondered if every woman who entered Will's office received such treatment. Will returned momentarily with two bowls and two spoons, and a mug of coffee. He handed the mug to Lizzy and went to check to see if Richard had come in. Seeing that Richard's office was still dark, he checked his watch and returned to his office.
"Problem?" Lizzy asked as she saw Will's worried expression.
"Probably not. It's just unlike Richard to come in this late." He shook off the disturbing thoughts that had begun to creep into his consciousness and sat down. "Now let's see what you've brought me. He reached for the lid, only to have Lizzy block his progress.
"You have to promise not to tell anyone what you're about to see."
"What am I about to see?" Will asked in a tone dripping with implication. Lizzy blushed.
"I'm serious. You have to swear not to tell Livy about this."
"Livy?"
"Olivia!"
"Oh! Does that mean--?" Lizzy started to move her hand, but then blocked Will's attempt to lift the lid once more.
"You didn't promise."
"I promise." He crossed his heart with the tip of his spoon and Lizzy relented. Will lifted the lid and smiled at the bowl of rice pudding as the sweet scent assaulted his senses. He spooned a bit into a bowl and handed it to Lizzy.
"Go ahead. I want to see if you like it." Will didn't argue. He eagerly tasted the delectable pudding and smiled.
"Olivia was right. It is perfect." Lizzy beamed as she dug into the casserole and filled her bowl. "Tell me," Will asked after a minute. "Why can't Olivia know about this?"
"She's not getting any."
"Why not?"
"Well, for one thing, she's out of the state for the weekend, and secondly, she wasn't subjected to my abominable behavior on Monday."
"Well, her loss is my gain. I'd forgive you just about anything for this. It's incredibly good. Too bad Richard isn't here. He loves rice pudding."
Richard arrived at the shop shortly before 9:00 and went to the bakery counter.
"You're late," the counter woman said.
"I know. I couldn't get up this morning for some reason," he said.
"Well, this ought to put a smile on your face." The woman handed Richard an envelope along with his cookie, which had already been wrapped and set aside. Richard thanked her and headed for the coffee station. By the time he arrived at his office he was in considerably better spirits. He sat down at his desk and opened his coffee before he peered into the envelope. He pulled out a card bearing a picture of the Sesame Street character that had become his namesake and inhaled the familiar vanilla scent. Unwrapping his cookie with his free hand, he read the card.
Dear Cookie Monster
I didn't want to leave the city without seeing to it that your Friday got off to a proper start, so I stopped by the shop and left this card on my way out of town this morning. I hand delivered your cookie myself, and herewith will attempt to hold up my end of our conversation.Good morning.
Nice shirt! I like the way the blue sets off the color of your eyes.
Thank you. (blush deleted)
Yep! I'm off to Elverson, Pennsylvania.
It's about an hour west of Philadelphia.
Just my dad. My mom died when I was ten.
Only a brother. Rob (or Robbie, if you're feeling brave) is a music teacher in Philadelphia. He's bringing his wife and daughter out for the weekend, too.
Yes, it will be. So, do you have any plans for the weekend?
Wow! I had no idea you were into--check all that apply: opera, hang gliding, medieval armor, collecting baseball cards, antiquing, hockey, golf, club hopping, the WWF, science fiction, cross dressing, taxidermy, hiking, mushroom growing, making jam, flirting with delivery women (wait, I knew about that!), other ____________.
Well, I hope you--circle the appropriate response: have a blast, don't get hurt, find something interesting, get to see it, enjoy yourself.
Thanks, I know I'll have a great time. It should be a lot of fun being with the family.
Yes, I'll be back on my usual route on Monday.
(Big smile) See you in our usual place at our usual time.
You too, Cookie Monster.
Bye.
Richard stared at the card, reading and rereading it, pausing to look down at the blue thread that made up half the tattersall check on his shirt. She had been there this morning. He laughed at her humorous list, which ironically included several things he was fond of (hockey, science fiction, hiking, and flirting with delivery women--not necessarily in that order). He finally closed the card and pinned it on his bulletin board just as Will poked his head in the door
"Hey, Fitz! I was beginning to worry about you. Is everything okay?" Richard smiled.
"Everything is fine."
"Well, I have a treat for you." He disappeared for a moment and returned with a bowl and spoon. "Here, try this." Richard peered into the bowl and smiled.
"Where did this come from?" He tasted the pudding and closed his eyes in an unabashed display of bliss.
"I'd like to answer that, but I've been sworn to secrecy."
"What?"
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you. Honest." Richard eyed him suspiciously, but another taste of the rice pudding made him forget all about Will's remark. Will waited to see the smile that almost immediately suffused Richard's face and pulled the door closed.
On this day, things went very differently for Lizzy and Will. They had an excellent interview. Lizzy gleaned a great deal of information about the single male in New York, although she was once again forced to concede that Will Darcy was no ordinary male. He was a talented, witty intellectual who was loaded with charm, and certifiably gorgeous to boot. He also had a unique talent for getting under Lizzy's skin and setting off all the wrong fireworks. On more than one occasion, Lizzy had to bite her tongue to keep from blurting out a response to Will's comment. And to make matters worse, Lizzy was certain that Will was aware of his power to provoke her. His smile seemed to issue a challenge, but she steadfastly refused to rise to his bait.
She observed Will as he went down the hall to speak with one of the staff and decided that he liked watching her squirm. She concluded that he was one of those men who got his jollies by manipulating women. But she was determined not to let him win at his game. A half hour later, she had grudgingly decided that she liked Will in spite of himself. He had a certain energy, a joie de vivre, a sense of humor that was very reminiscent of her best friend. In fact, Lizzy determined, as she sat beside Will at lunch with the rest of the staff, he was perfect for Olivia. Attractive as Will was, Lizzy knew that he and she were like oil and water. No, she concluded, Olivia had seen him first and he seemed to think the world of her. Lizzy noticed that he seemed to bring Olivia's name into the conversation frequently.
Will placed a portion of his grunt in front of her and explained that in his homeland, a pudding is a generic term for dessert, and that a grunt was a dessert of fruit topped with biscuit dough and baked. The term "grunt," he explained, was a reference to the bubbling noise the dessert made as it was baked. Lizzy eyed him doubtfully, but she thought the dessert was delicious.
Lizzy left the conference room after lunch, just before the staff meeting was to begin in earnest. She'd collected a great deal of information and that, combined with what she'd learned at the first meeting seemed to be sufficient to start things rolling. She wanted nothing more than to get back to her computer while the ideas that she'd had during the interview were still fresh in her head. She was putting things into her bag when Will appeared with her casserole.
"Here, you wouldn't want to forget this," he said as he handed Lizzy the bowl. She looked up in surprise.
"Don't you want the rest of it?"
"I gave the last of it to Richard. He's something of a rice pudding fiend, so I knew he'd enjoy it," Will explained.
"Oh."
"I didn't tell him my source," he assured her with an impish smile, as she placed the casserole, still warm from the dishwasher, into her tote bag.
"I knew I could trust you," she quipped. Richard knocked on the door.
"We're going to take a break. Morgan got that conference call he'd been waiting all morning for." He noticed Lizzy and stepped into the office. "You're not leaving so soon, are you? We've hardly had a chance to visit." Lizzy smiled at Richard and wondered how two such good friends could be so different from one another. She set her bag aside, which Richard took as sufficient invitation to sit down and join her. "How's the story coming?"
"Very well, thank you. I was going home to start writing up my notes."
"So you're done with your visit here."
"Probably...unless, of course, I'm invited back," she said before she could stop herself. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Will start.
"I hear you're not into post modern industrial design," Richard said so easily that it didn't register right away that he was referring to her insult to the décor. "You should have had the interview at Will's apartment, or better yet, his new house. Then you could really get to see the real man."
"That's precisely why I thought it might be safer to interview him at his office," Lizzy smiled.
"Madam, I'm shocked at what you're implying! Will's a perfect gentleman." Will strode out of the office with a look that screamed just pretend I'm not here, why don't you?
"No one's perfect, Richard." He conceded her point with a nod.
"How is your mother doing, by the way? Will told me about her stroke."
"She's doing very well, thank you for asking," she said, liking Richard better every minute. They made small talk until Will returned to tell Richard that Morgan was off the phone. Lizzy looked at her watch. "I'd better get going. Thank you for your time, Will. Richard, it was a pleasure seeing you again.'
"The pleasure was all mine, Lizzy," he smiled as he shook her hand. Will walked Lizzy to the elevator. She shook hands with him before she disappeared behind the closing doors. Will went back to the meeting with a smile on his face. For the rest of the afternoon he was forced to field inquiries about the woman in his office and the nature of their relationship.
Lizzy enjoyed having the apartment to herself for the weekend. It wasn't that she disliked having a roommate, but being able to spread her stuff out across the dining table and to drop kick her towel into the laundry pile without having to worry about offending Olivia was a rare luxury.
"Now, if I could just get you to take a vacation, Squeaks, I'd be in hog heaven!" Lizzy said as she pushed the cat off of the page she was trying to read. She was working on a draft of her interview with Will on a lazy Saturday morning. She'd treated herself to a full breakfast of pancakes, courtesy of Olivia's homemade pancake mix, and with a second mugful of coffee in hand she was ready to read over the notes she'd typed up a day earlier. Lizzy had just booted up her computer, retrieved the print out from under the cat/paperweight and sat back to read when the phone rang. She reached for it absently as she scanned the page in front of her.
"Good morning, Lizzy." She nearly choked on her coffee when she heard Will's voice.
"Will?" she managed. "Hello...uh, Livy is away for the weekend--."
"Yes, I remember your mentioning that yesterday. But I wasn't calling her. I wanted to speak with you."
"Me?"
"Yes. What made you think I was calling Olivia?"
"Uh...force of habit, I guess. Men are always...I mean, a lot of her clients--." She heard Will laughing softly and it annoyed her, quickly erasing her confusion. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" she said with a voice that sounded less than pleased. Lizzy hadn't meant to imply that men were constantly calling Olivia, although such was often the case.
"I just was wondering if I will I get to see your story before it's published." Lizzy was silent for a moment.
"No," she said somewhat coolly. "Most magazines do not give right of first refusal to their interviewees, and I'm sure Urban is no exception."
"Well, can you check that out for me?" Lizzy's blood turned to ice.
"No," she said with an air of finality. "Even if it's not the magazine's policy, it is my own. Why would you want to read it first, anyway? You don't think I'm going to defame you or anything, do you?"
"No, I just..."
"Look, I'm a professional, as you so kindly pointed out at our first interview. You can rest assured that the interview will be honest and fair and will portray you in a favorable light."
"If that's the case, why would you object to my reading it?" Will challenged.
"Why do you feel the need to? Don't you trust me to write a competent essay on--?"
"This is not a personal attack, Lizzy--."
"Isn't it? You're questioning my journalistic integrity."
"I'm doing no such thing! I just wanted to see what you've written, that's all," Will replied, mystified by her reaction. "Why do you insist on making snap judgments about my motives all the time?"
"I do not make 'snap judgments' about you!"
"No? As I recall, less than a week ago you accused me of surrounding myself with an all-female staff and of promulgating 'post-modern high-tech industrial crap'!"
"I--."
"And just when I'd decided that you'd gotten over your initial prejudices about me, your pride kicks in and turns a simple request into a--!"
"My pride?'
"Admit it! You took my inquiry as a challenge to your abilities as a writer. Your ego was wounded by it."
"It was not!" she hissed through gritted teeth.
"Look, just forget I asked, okay?"
"Fine!"
"Enjoy the rest of your weekend," he said evenly. Lizzy returned the compliment and hung up, livid. The man had just done it to her again. And it troubled her. She knew that Olivia liked Will, and that he liked her. The last thing Lizzy wanted to do was stand in the way of a potential relationship between them. She decided that he was right--she had taken his request as an insult. She went into Olivia's bedroom, opened her laptop and brought up Outlook. She scanned the address book for Will's address and returned to her workspace. She moved the cat once more, ignoring its loud protests, and read over her interview notes, making a few marks and notations. Then she opened the file on her computer and began editing. An hour and a half later, she had most of the interview finished. She printed it out and put it into an envelope and went to take a shower.
"Why don't you meet me there? That way you can drop by your grandmother's house on the way and I can pick up my supplies. If we're lucky we'll arrive at the house around the same time." Richard agreed to the scheme and Will hung up the phone. He jogged up the stairs and slipped off his robe. He dug out a pair of jeans and began to dress. He was looking for an old tee shirt when he heard the doorbell. Frowning, he went back downstairs and buzzed the visitor inside.
"Fitz! I thought you were going to--." He opened the door and froze in the doorway. He wasn't face to face with his friend. His unexpected visitor was Lizzy Bennet, who was staring at his naked chest. "Lizzy! Come on through." He stepped aside and she entered his apartment. She was immediately intrigued by the décor. It was not at all modern or industrial. Rather, the apartment was decorated in an eclectic style that seemed ideally suited to Will's quixotic personality.
"Lizzy?" She turned around and stared at his chest again. "Would you excuse me for a moment? Make yourself comfortable." He raced upstairs in search of that tee, suddenly empathetic with many women of his acquaintance who'd complained about men not knowing the color of their eyes. He pulled on the tee and a denim work shirt for good measure before descending the stairs.
"I hope I haven't come at a bad time," Lizzy said awkwardly as she rose to her feet.
"Not at all, but I was planning to leave in a few minutes."
"Oh, then I won't keep you."
"You aren't keeping me. I'm just headed for the house. I'll be meeting Fitz there, but he has the keys."
"The house?"
"My house. I told you about it, I think."
"Oh, the house!" Lizzy said, feeling like an idiot. She hoped that she wasn't blushing as much as she thought.
"Yes," Will replied, smiling at Lizzy's discomfort in spite of himself. "Do you have some time? I'd like to show it to you."
"Uh...yes. I have no plans for this afternoon. In fact, I just came over to--." Her next words seemed to stick in her throat.
"To..." Will prompted.
"...To give you this." She decided to skip the apology; she was having enough trouble forming whole sentences without the added mortification such an effort would elicit. She approached Will and handed him a manila folder. He took it from her but seemed to have no interest in reading its contents.
"Thank you. Shall we go?"
"Go?"
"To the house; that is, if you'd like to see it." He smiled encouragingly and Lizzy finally relaxed and smiled back.
"I'd love to." He ushered her out to his car and in minutes they were headed out of the city. "Where is it?"
"The house? It's not so far out of the city that I couldn't commute if I wanted to. That was one of the primary factors in my choosing the house that I did," Will explained as they turned onto the FDR Drive. He glanced at her sidelong before he spoke again. "So, what made you change your mind?"
"Excuse me?"
"That was a copy of the interview you brought to my place, wasn't it?"
"Oh. Yes, it was...I decided that you were right. I was insulted," Lizzy confessed, and she smiled so becomingly that Will's triumphant comeback died on his lips. He satisfied himself with stealing glances at her as she stared out the window at the scenery whizzing by.
"So where is Olivia this weekend?"
"She's in Pennsylvania visiting her family."
"Are you from Pennsylvania, too?"
"Nope. I was born in Brooklyn, U.S.A.," she said proudly. "Livy and I met at summer camp about a dozen years ago. We've been best friends ever since."
"Where did you study?" Will asked, enjoying the look in Lizzy's eyes as she spoke of anything that didn't concern the two of them.
"I went to New York University. Livy went to the French Culinary Institute, which is located just a few blocks away from NYU. We found an apartment together in Chelsea and have been roomies since then."
"Did you always want to write?"
"No. For the longest time I wanted to be a musician. But then I got over my crush on Livy's big brother and looked for an alternative career." Will looked at her doubtfully. "All right, I have wanted to be a writer since I won my first essay contest at the age of ten. I did have a huge crush on Robbie, though."
"And what of Olivia? Did she have a crush on any of your siblings?"
"I certainly hope not! They're both girls."
"And are they as pretty as their elder sister?" Will asked.
"How do you know I'm the oldest?" Lizzy said as her cheeks grew hot.
"Did I say you were? Just a guess," he smiled. He wasn't about to spoil her good humor by pointing out that she had all the classic personality traits of a firstborn.
"Well, Mary is two years younger than me, and she's currently studying environmental science at Cornell. My younger sister, Lydia is still in high school."
"You didn't answer my question," he teased.
"Well, I haven't an opinion on the subject," Lizzy blushed.
"Not even Robbie's?"
"He never met my sisters, so his opinion would be somewhat biased...and he never paid me much attention, anyway," she admitted with a hint of lingering disappointment. Will smiled to himself and continued to drive. They reached a mall, and Will pulled off the road.
"I have to make a stop," he said as he parked near the entrance to the home center. "This shouldn't take very long."
"Saturday at a Home Depot?" Lizzy intoned as she followed. As she predicted, the store was very crowded. After nearly losing her twice, Will took hold of her hand and headed for the paint aisle. He found what he wanted and spatulas, bins, and tarps went into his cart along with a huge tub of joint compound.
"Here, you can help me choose colors," Will said as he led Lizzy to the paint display. "I'm looking for colors for the master bedroom and the first floor." He began pulling down a copy of each paint company's brochure as Lizzy perused the paint chips before her.
"What did you have in mind?"
"Maybe a pale blue or green for the bedroom, and white for the downstairs spaces."
"White? How boring!" Will raised an eyebrow and pointed at the rack.
"See that? There are over sixty shades of white right in front of you. It need not be boring. It need not even be white, come to think of it, but I want to start there."
"Well, then why not think about other colors as well? If you're going to live in a Victorian, why not think like one? I've never seen a Victorian with white walls. Not a real one, anyway," she muttered as she began to pull color chips off the display. Will smiled and let her choose as many colors as amused her. He confined most of his choices to whites and creams, however. When they had done, Will bought a quart of paint for the lavatory on the first floor. Lizzy approved of the strong tomato red shade he selected, much to his amusement.
Will stopped at a supermarket in the mall to pick up drinks and snacks before he got back onto the highway. A short time later, he pulled the car to a stop before a beautiful, old Victorian house, whose graceful lines had been eroded by time. He grabbed the tub of joint compound and led Lizzy into the house.
"Richard's already here," Will said when he noticed his car out front. He mounted the steps to the porch and held the door open for Lizzy, who stopped to admire the gingerbread trim on the porch overhang. She smiled and followed him inside, where she saw Richard atop a ladder in the parlor working on the molding around the mirror over the mantle.
"Hello, Bright Eyes," he said when he saw Lizzy.
"Hello, Richard. How are you?"
"Just ducky," he said as he tried to wipe the dust out of his eyes without smudging his face with wood stain. Lizzy pulled out a tissue and handed it to him. "Thank you," he smiled. They chatted for a few minutes while Will went to get the rest of the supplies from the car. Will then took Lizzy on a tour of the house, starting with the kitchen. It lacked appliances, save for an old refrigerator that was mainly used to keep food and drinks on hand for Will and his volunteer laborers.
"Is this all new?"
"Yes. We tried to make it look as authentic as possible but make it functional for the twenty-first century." Lizzy was very impressed and ran her hands over the cherry wood cabinets and soapstone counters in awe. Will smiled as he led her through the butler's pantry and into the dining room, which was lit by a huge bay window topped with panels of stained glass. Lizzy wandered back into the parlor and fully took in the surroundings before Will led her upstairs.
"This is the master bedroom," he said. Lizzy walked into the room and headed straight for the doors that led onto a sleeping porch.
"Oh, this is magnificent!" She looked around the room, wandering into and out of the adjoining bathroom. "I hope you have some really nice old pieces to furnish the room with," she said.
"A few; I've been collecting for this for some time," Will replied as he leaned against the doorframe and watched Lizzy as she walked from room to room. Finally, she peered up the stairs leading to the upper floor.
"What's up there?"
"Come see." Will led Lizzy upstairs to the third floor, where what had been a warren of small rooms had been merged into one spacious area. "This is my office," Will said.
Lizzy looked around at the only room in the house that was finished and completely furnished. There was a massive oak desk at one end of the room, anchoring a large Persian rug. Two leather chairs faced the desk. On the opposite end of the room, built in shelves filled with books on architecture and folk art lined the walls. Lizzy scanned the shelves as Will sat down at his desk. He became lost in a reverie as Lizzy sat on the floor and opened a book.
Lizzy sat on the floor reading in front of the bookcases while Will worked at his laptop. He glanced over at her.
"Why don't you turn on the lamp? You're going to ruin your eyes in the dark." Lizzy looked up and smiled.
"I should go downstairs anyway. The boys will be home soon. I should make them something; you know how hungry they always are when they get home from school. They're very much like their father in that regard." She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around Will's shoulders. "Can I fix you something, too?"
"I could do with some coffee," he said as Lizzy bent to kiss his brow. "And I've never claimed to be hungry for food when I came home. That's just always been your interpretation of things," Will added cheekily. Lizzy feigned a look of shock as she released him and headed for the stairs.
"I'll be back in a little while," she smiled. "And you have work to do."
"Don't you have some work to do?" Richard asked, his voice piercing through Will's daydream like a dart. "I thought when I came up here I was helping you out--the operative word being 'helping.'" Will abruptly stood up and Lizzy started.
"Sorry, I was just showing Lizzy the house. You're right. I really should get to work," Will said, feeling a bit guilty.
"What can I do?" Lizzy said enthusiastically. Will turned to look at her. "Well, I'm here; I may as well do something," she reasoned.
"I can always use an extra volunteer," Will smiled. He led the way back downstairs as Richard warned Lizzy that she might reconsider when she saw the tasks on the punch list for the day. Lizzy was undaunted by the list. She volunteered to tackle painting the lavatory, freeing Will to patch the plaster in the hallway. Will did the taping and cutting in at the ceiling of the tiny washroom first, since there was no way Lizzy could reach the nine-foot ceiling, even on the step stool he had provided. Before he left her to her task, he insisted that Lizzy wear his work shirt so as not to ruin her own top. Lizzy watched him go with a mixture of curiosity and admiration.
What a strange man! Well, Livy, he's all yours. I don't have the energy to keep up with the surprises he constantly throws my way.
The work in the lavatory went quickly, and Lizzy emerged from the room pulling off her gloves just as she saw a car pull into the driveway behind Will's. The two men were apparently upstairs somewhere, from the sound of their voices, so she stepped out onto the porch to greet the newcomer, who drew a small cooler from the back seat and approached the house.
"Hello," she said to the attractive mature woman who she assumed was somehow related to Richard. Her resemblance to him was uncanny.
"Hello, dear, I'm Bess. Is my grandson inside?"
"Your grandson? Richard Fitzwilliam is your grandson?" Bess smiled impishly, her face a perfect imitation of the smile Lizzy had already come to recognize. "Come inside." She held the door open for Bess, who walked straight through to the kitchen, much to Lizzy's surprise. "Richard!" she called. "Your grandmother is here." Moments later, both Richard and Will came flying down the stairs.
"Where is she?" Richard asked. Lizzy pointed to the kitchen and then followed the two men out into the backyard, where Bess had begun to set up lunch on a picnic table in the shade of an old oak.
"Will Darcy, you grow more handsome every time I see you," Bess said as they embraced warmly and he gave her a kiss on each cheek.
"Have you met Lizzy, Bess?" Will asked.
"We haven't been formally introduced. Hello, Lizzy." Lizzy smiled and said hello. "I brought the boys a bit of sustenance. There's plenty for a fourth if you're hungry."
"Thanks, Bess, I'm famished." The foursome sat down to a meal of hearty sandwiches, potato chips, and soft drinks, followed by huge slices of freshly baked lemon pound cake.
"Grandma Bess lives about three miles from here, Lizzy. One of the perks of doing slave labor for Will is that she comes by and feeds us very well," Richard volunteered.
"I can also scrape the paint out of trim like nobody's business," Bess revealed with a wink. "Lord knows I've had an opportunity to perfect my technique in this old relic."
"What do you think of the house, Lizzy?" Richard asked.
"I think it's awesome," she said. "I love old houses. I grew up in a Victorian-era brownstone full of details like this one has. And the kitchen is fantastic! Livy would love it."
"Livy?" Richard and Bess asked simultaneously.
"Olivia Crenshaw. I told you about her," Will said to Richard.
"Oh, your little chef friend," Richard replied. "She must be quite a woman: pretty and a great cook."
"That is a sexist remark, Fizz!" Bess retorted.
"Oh, I don't know; I've heard pretty much the same thing said of Will more times than I care to think about," he smiled. Will rolled his eyes, but Lizzy laughed.
"He is kind of pretty, isn't he?" Bess said with another wink. "What have you three been working on today?" she asked as Richard packed up the picnic.
"Fitz and I have been working on the walls in the hallways. Lizzy was kind enough to paint the lavatory," Will said.
"Why don't you show me your handiwork, Lizzy? I'd like to see it." Bess disappeared with Lizzy into the house.
"I take back what I said earlier. She doesn't hate you," Richard said as he watched them go.
"You don't think so?" Will said.
"After observing her yesterday and today, I'd say her feelings about you could be summed up as a cross between morbid curiosity and complete confusion."
"What?"
"I think your unique brand of charm is somewhat lost on the girl."
"Oh...what do you think I ought to do about it?"
"What do you want to do about it?" Will gazed toward the house for a moment before he spoke.
"I want her."
"Not an operationalizable strategy, Darce."
"Eh?"
I asked what you wanted to do about her, not how you felt." Will sighed.
"Any suggestions?" Richard nearly doubled over laughing.
"That's your strategy, asking me for help? No wonder your love life is so hopeless!" Richard stopped laughing abruptly and regarded Will. "All right, my friend. I'll try and come up with something." Richard smiled enigmatically and carried the cooler into the house. Will followed, somewhat doubtful that things would soon improve.
Bess and Lizzy were in the kitchen admiring the cabinetry when Richard entered the house. He asked Lizzy if she'd like to help him finish staining the woodwork in the parlor. She readily assented to the idea. Richard looked pointedly at Will on his way out of the room and after a moment's hesitation he got the message and asked Bess to look at paint chips.
"She's very nice," Bess said as Will laid out the chips across the counter.
"Huh?" he replied absently.
"Will, 'gorgeous' and 'dumb' only work in conjunction if you're blond," Bess drawled, but Will continued to stare at her blankly. Bess rolled her eyes. "I'll start over: Lizzy seems to be a very nice girl."
"Uh, yes, yes she is," Will fumbled. Bess had a way of unnerving him at times and this was definitely one of them. She was up to something and he knew it. But, he figured, having Bess on his side couldn't hurt.
"So, Lizzy, are you into working with your hands, or are you just here to impress Will?" Lizzy's mouth fell open.
"Do I look like that kind of girl, Richard?" He laughed softly as he laid stain on the dado rail.
"Ms. Bennet, I wouldn't answer a question like that if you threatened to dig my heart out with a spoon." Disarmed, Lizzy laughed as well.
"I'll have you know that I came here today only because Will invited me."
"Oh, then he was trying to impress you." Lizzy's mouth fell open again, but she had no answer for him. Richard let his statement sink in for a moment before he continued. "You ought to be flattered. You're the first woman he's brought here, and believe me, he could give tours and pay off the mortgage in a year if he had a mind to exploit the opportunity."
"I don't doubt it. I take it Will is quite the heartbreaker."
"Perhaps, but not in the way you're probably thinking." Lizzy looked up and confronted Richard's steady blue-eyed gaze.
"And what am I thinking?"
"You're thinking that Will is a love 'em and leave 'em, use women up like paper towels type, correct?"
"Who writes your dialogue?" Lizzy laughed. "And I suppose that you're going to tell me--?"
"That Will's actually your basic nice guy. He usually disappoints women by not throwing himself at them."
"I'm glad to hear it, because women apparently throw themselves at him often enough." Richard looked at Lizzy suspiciously for a moment.
"I suppose your roommate told you about the date from hell."
"Yes. But if Will plays his cards right, his luck with women ought to improve significantly in the near future," Lizzy said with a smile that aroused Richard's curiosity.
"Oh?"
"Yes," she replied as she moved to catch the drip that was about to mar the newly painted wall below the dado. "Will and Olivia really hit it off well and I happen to think that they are ideally suited to one another."
"Will and Olivia," Richard repeated, trying to keep the incredulity out of his voice.
"I think you'd agree if you met her," Lizzy said as she moved along the baseboard applying stain.
"Would I? Tell me about her."
"Well, Livy is the kind of woman that men spontaneously propose to. She has this really sunny personality, and she's sweet and funny, and really smart, too." A wry smile formed on Richard's lips.
"I think I would like to meet this woman."
"Sorry, but she's already destined for Will." Richard smiled.
"And is she as pretty as you?" Lizzy rolled her eyes.
"It's not for me to judge."
"You know, just once I'd like to see a woman answer that question honestly."
"Such as?"
"Such as, 'No, she's a real dog'," he grinned.
"But she's not a dog! Livy is extremely pretty. She's been my best friend for years and I have yet to find a flaw in her."
"A woman without faults," Richard teased. "She sounds too good for Will."
"Why?" Lizzy demanded.
"Let's face it, we guys talk a lot about finding a perfect woman, but when it comes right down to it, we don't want to live with one. Perfect women are very intimidating, not to mention, they probably have no interest in normal guys like me and Will."
"You consider yourself and Will 'normal'?" Lizzy gasped.
"Yes, we're as normal as we can get," Richard said defensively. "We've both already gotten past the goddess worship stage--well, Will was a little slow to learn that lesson, hence the Erin debacle," he said with a shake of his head. "But we've now reached the stage of development where real women are far more likely to hold our interest than Pamela Anderson or some other starlet." Lizzy raised a dubious eyebrow.
"So, you would say no if one of them asked you out?" she challenged.
"I would, yes. I'd prefer someone with a smaller ego, who requires less maintenance and has more genuine..."
"...Parts?" Lizzy quipped.
"Uh, yeah, though I was thinking of personality," Richard smiled. "I want a real woman, not the product of a schoolboy fantasy. I want someone I can talk to, laugh with...someone I can totally be myself with," he said with a faraway look in his eye. Lizzy wondered who he was thinking of.
"It sounds as though you already have your eye on someone." Richard cocked his head to one side thoughtfully.
"Maybe I do." Lizzy sized him up for a moment.
"If I confess that Livy isn't as perfect as I made her seem, will you help me out?"
"Help you out with what?"
"With getting Livy and Will together," she cried with an exasperated roll of her eyes.
"Mind if I ask you a personal question?" Lizzy shrugged. "Why Will and Livy? Why not Lizzy and Will?" Lizzy rolled her eyes again.
"No thanks," she said hastily. "Granted, he's a nice guy and he's got a lot going for him, but we're like oil and water--not a good idea."
"Ever heard of an emulsion?"
"Yes--they invariably separate after a time, don't they?" she replied archly.
"If they're not periodically shaken, they do. I suspect you and Will shake each other up quite frequently."
"Is that what you call it? I think of it as pushing each other's buttons."
"That can also be very interesting," Richard smiled as he reached for a clean rag.
"It can be infuriating, too. I'm sure you know how things went that first day."
"Tell me you weren't intrigued, stimulated in spite of yourself..."
"And ready to throttle him at least once," Lizzy amended. Richard laughed.
"You'd never have a dull moment."
"I kind of like dull moments," Lizzy said with a pout. "Look, Will and I will never be anything more than friends."
"Pity--I think you'd be great together. And I know he thinks very well of you," Richard said carefully. Lizzy was clearly surprised by his revelation, but she wouldn't relent.
"Thanks, but I'll pass. Will happens to think the world of Livy, and she saw him first, anyway."
"Is she interested in him at all, or is this just some wild notion of yours?" Lizzy frowned.
"I know she likes him and he likes her; they're always talking about each other."
"I talk about the president all the time and I happen to think he's a--."
"Look, I know what of I speak. I was hoping to persuade you to help me out on this," she said pleadingly. Richard smiled at her and she felt a sudden desire to cheer. With his help, she knew that the plan that had been forming in her head since the previous day would not fail.
Will came out of the kitchen with Lizzy's cell phone in his hand. Richard and Lizzy had already finished their discussion about Will and were talking about architectural detail.
"Lizzy, your phone is ringing," Will said as he handed it to her.
"Thanks," she said as she opened it. "Hello, Livy! How's life in the country?" she asked with a pointed look at first Richard and then Will. Richard followed Lizzy's gaze toward Will and saw that he was looking on with mild interest, but not wanting to be rude he backed away and began to look at the work Richard and Lizzy had accomplished.
"It's great. Where are you? I tried to reach you at home a couple of times. You said you were staying in to write today."
"Change of plans--long story short, I'm at Will's house."
"Oh? It's fabulous, isn't it?" Olivia said enthusiastically.
"Yes, his place in the city is very nice. But I'm somewhere in the sticks at the moment at the house he bought and is fixing up."
"How'd that come about?"
"Later. How's your gorgeous brother?"
"He's fine. He actually asked for you," Olivia smiled.
"Yeah, but he's still married to what's her face, isn't he?" Lizzy sighed dramatically, and Will turned to gape at her. Richard covered his eyes with a hand and shook his head. He rose from where he was wiping down the last of the trim and suggested that he and Will go and get something to drink.
"She's still got the hots for Robbie," Will grumbled as Richard hustled him into the kitchen. Bess looked up curiously.
"Look, I don't know who Robbie is, but you're eavesdropping, my friend, and that is dangerous and foolish."
"And you weren't listening?"
"I did hear a few things, yes. But I'm not emotionally involved, am I? You're standing there staring at the woman with your heart on your sleeve like a--."
"Fizz, leave the poor thing alone," Bess commanded softly. She opened a Thermos bottle and poured out a cup of coffee. "Here, Will, just the way you like it." Will smiled and gratefully accepted the offering. "Now, what's going on?"
"I must ask Will to invite you out here," Lizzy continued. "You'd love the kitchen!"
"Uh huh," Olivia said thoughtfully. "So, you and Will are spending the day together?"
"No!" Lizzy answered hastily, lest Olivia get the wrong idea. "I went over to his place just to drop off a copy of my draft and he invited me out to see the house. I did pitch in to do a bit of painting and staining, but I'll be leaving soon."
"Are you going to the hospital today?"
"I stopped by before I went to Will's place. Mom's looking good; she's having a bunch of tests done this afternoon just to make sure she's continuing to make progress."
"Cool! Give Mrs. B my best when you see her again."
"I will," Lizzy said. "By the way, Will's business partner is also here along with his grandmother."
"So the two of you aren't all alone in that big house," Olivia teased. The more she thought about it, the more she could see Lizzy falling happily into Will's arms.
"No, no!" Lizzy cried. "We've been chaperoned the whole time...uh, not that we'd need a chaperone, of course. Will and I...we aren't--."
"Aren't what?" Olivia challenged.
"Was there a particular reason why you were trying to reach me?" Lizzy abruptly changed the subject.
"Actually, I had a bit of news for you, but I'd really much rather hear about you and Will," Olivia prodded.
"Well, there's nothing to tell," Lizzy said as Richard returned to the room. "I've hardly spent any time with Will at all. In fact, I've spent most of the day with his partner."
"What's he like?"
"Well, I could describe him for you, but since he's sitting right here, I'll spare myself that little pleasure." Richard winked at her impishly.
"Hotitudinosity scale?"
"Second to third degree burns." Olivia was very impressed.
After dropping Lizzy off in Chelsea, Will drove toward the east side of Manhattan and the solitude of his apartment. His mind was awhirl with competing images: Lizzy Bennet in his home looking for all the world like she belonged there; Lizzy Bennet in his favorite denim shirt staining the trim in the parlor discussing her ideas about color schemes with Bess and Richard; and finally, Lizzy Bennet treating him to an ice cream cone and needing him to wipe a drip of pistachio from her chin. In truth, he had wanted to kiss it off, but he didn't dare. Will sighed as he entered his block and scanned the street up ahead for a parking space. Finding one, he hopped out and walked back to his building. He stepped down to the brownstone's lower level entrance and entered his apartment. He threw his keys on the kitchen counter and sat on a stool to recount his discussion with Bess.
"Now, what's going on?" she began simply. A few minutes later Will had laid the whole tale before her. He told of his awkward first encounter with Lizzy at the cooking class, their disastrous first interview, and their meeting the previous day when they finally managed to spend four hours in each other's company without straining the bounds of civility. "And now you've accomplished it two days in a row," Bess observed.
"Yes," Will said hesitantly. Bess sighed and waited for him to speak, but something on the counter seemed to have taken up all his attention.
"So?" Bess prodded. Will looked up.
"Richard thinks she finds me confusing." Bess suppressed a comment and waited for him to elaborate. "I think...I thought she hated me at first."
"But you don't hate her, apparently. When you told me about her earlier, I had the distinct impression that you liked her a lot." Will nodded.
"Unfortunately, she's doesn't have as flattering an opinion of me."
"That seems easy enough to fix. And judging from her behavior while I've been here, she seems willing to become friends with you."
"I don't want--I mean I think I want more than a friendship with her. I can't stop thinking about her."
"So what are you doing out here in the kitchen with an old lady? Get back out there!" Will had returned to the parlor then. Lizzy was off the phone and she and Richard were laughing over something. Will leaned against the doorframe and watched the scene until Richard informed him that he was leaning on freshly stained trim.
Will sighed and went back to the refrigerator in search of a soft drink. He popped it open and headed for the garden. Perhaps Bess and Richard were right. It wasn't as hopeless as he had earlier led himself to believe. To all outward appearances, at least, Lizzy seemed to have a good time today. She had laughed along with the others as Bess presented her choices of colors for the parlor and argued good naturedly with Richard over the relative neutrality of green versus white. When he dropped her at her place, Lizzy told him that if all went well with her mother she might make it to class Monday night. Surely that was an indication of something. Will smiled and eased into his favorite chair.