Beginning, Section II, Next Section
Three hours later, Elisabeth was finally heading home from work. Her legs were throbbing from standing on them all day and her stomach was still in turmoil, but her temper and mood were much better since she'd left the store.
She turned onto Jaycee Avenue, her street, and narrowly avoided hitting one of the neighbor kids from the trailer court who ran out into the street abruptly. She looked in her rearview mirror to make sure he was okay.
The kid was making a rude gesture at her. "Little creep," she muttered, continuing past the trailers and towards the apartment buildings. She turned into her driveway and drove around to her parking place. It was then that she noticed the red truck sitting next to her cousin's Plymouth Breeze.
"Oh, no," she groaned. "Just what I need tonight."
She parked in the space reserved for apartment two. The slimeball always took her space, or Charlie's, when he stopped by. She cut the engine of her car and opened her door, but stepping out of the car turned out to be rougher than she thought it would be. Her legs didn't want to support her and her stomach felt queasy. She was in no shape to deal with George Wickham, her evil ex, the slimeball creep who got preferential treatment for being Sean's good friend, the son of an unnamed goat who was now running her store.
What does he want?
Elisabeth opened the door into the hallway, then headed slowly to her front door. She thanked God for the millionth time that she and her cousin had had the good fortune to get a ground-floor apartment. Stairs would've killed her just now. She unlocked the door and walked inside.
The door opened up right into the space reserved for the dining room. There was a table sitting near the door, but it found more use as a place to set junk and play cards during parties than it did as a place to sit and eat a meal. In the corner was Charlie's desk and computer, which was covered as usual by books, ink pens, unpaid bills, and copies of her favorite stories pulled from the web.
To the left of the front door was the kitchen, which was spotless. Charlie must've gotten tired of the mess and cleaned up, because it had been a disaster when they'd left this morning. Straight ahead of her was the small hallway which led to the bathroom, storage closet, and the bedrooms.
"Hi, Elisabeth," Charlie called from her right, which was the living room. She was sitting in a large, beat-up chair she'd bought for ten bucks at an auction when they'd first moved into the apartment, her feet propped up on the even worse-looking coffee table, listening to one of the music channels they got on their digital cable while reading Bridget Jones' Diary.
"Hi," Elisabeth replied. "Where is he?"
"Who?"
"George."
"The slimeball? He's not here."
"Then why is his truck in my spot?"
Charlie shrugged. "He wasn't here when I got home, but did you notice whose cute little black convertible was parked in number four?"
Cute little black convertible? She didn't know anyone who owned one of those, so she shook her head.
"Darcy Williamson's."
"You're kidding."
"Nope. He's directly over our heads."
"Damn. I guess this means we won't be able to grouse about the people we work with now."
"Sure we can. We'll just make sure to crank the stereo to ten. Preferably when we've got your Eminem CD in."
Elisabeth smiled and reached for a pack of cigarettes. She took one out and lit it deftly. "God. What's next?"
"Where'd you park?"
"In Two's space."
"You know what that means," Charlie warned.
"Yeah, yeah. If I don't get the slimeball moved before they get home, they'll have me towed."
"Maybe you should make them tow the slimeball. That'd really tick him off."
Elisabeth gave it some serious thought before deciding not to do it. It would probably get back to Sean, which would tick him off, too. The last thing she needed was trouble with Sean.
"Do you think he's upstairs talking with our new waiter?"
"I'd try there first. If he's a friend of Sean's, he probably knows George."
"I'll be back," Elisabeth said, going out the door and up the stairs. She knocked on the door to number four. The door opened a moment later. George Wickham stood there.
"Hello, Lissie," he said with a smile. "What brings you here?"
"You need to move your truck. And I think you've forgotten how much I hate being called Lissie." She stepped inside.
"Why?" He grinned that smart-aleck smile she hated so much. He knew darned well that he'd parked in her space. He'd just done it to tick her off. She'd bet her next paycheck on it.
"Because I had to park in someone else's space. And if that someone else returns and I'm still there, he won't hesitate to have me towed. However, if you don't move from my space, I'll go back downstairs and have you towed." Elisabeth couldn't quite keep the irritation out of her voice, though she did manage to refrain from saying he'd done it deliberately. He would only smile again.
"Sorry, Elisabeth. I parked there out of habit."
If he was genuinely sorry, she was going to be married to Matt Damon when she woke up tomorrow morning.
"Have you met Darcy?"
Darcy had just walked into the room from the hallway. He looked surprised to see her.
"Yes, I've met Darcy. I interviewed him today for a job." Elisabeth mustered up a smile. "Hello, Darcy."
"Hello, Elisabeth."
"Are you coming to move your truck or not?" she asked impatiently.
"Okay, okay, I'm coming." George walked over to the entertainment center where his keys were and picked them up. It gave Elisabeth an opportunity to take a quick glance around at Darcy's décor. To her surprise, he seemed to have good taste-glossy wood entertainment center, black couch with two matching chairs, classy-looking coffee table and end tables, lamps. It was a far cry from the castoffs that she and Charlie had inherited or bought cheap at auctions.
"Nice place," she said to make conversation with Darcy, who had been staring at her for some reason.
"Thanks," he replied.
George pushed past her out the door. She said a quick goodbye to Darcy and headed after George.
"How do you know Darcy Williamson?" she asked once they were outside.
"He's a friend."
Elisabeth doubted that. For one thing, George was several years younger than Darcy Williamson. He'd barely managed to graduate from high school. George was a twit, and while she thought Darcy Williamson was a twit due to his arrogance, she knew he was a smart twit. After all, he'd gone to Harvard. She knew they were picky about those things.
"Actually, he's Sean's cousin. Third cousin, twice removed, or something like that."
"Ah." That made more sense to her. "What's he doing here?"
"Couldn't tell you." George's smirk implied that he knew all to well why a Harvard whiz kid would come to work at Planet Earth Pizza. That would've annoyed her more if she'd cared at all about Darcy Williamson. She just shrugged and smiled inwardly at the fleeting look of disappointment that crossed George's face when she didn't inquire further.
Gotcha, Slimeball.
"How's Charlie?" George asked.
"She's fine. Treatment's going well. Why?"
The smirk again. "Just checking."
Elisabeth was proud of the way she was taking that bit of baiting. George thought he was attractive to all women, and he also thought that Charlie was kind of cute.
However...
"Charlie's opinion of you hasn't changed. She still thinks you're a creep. And she wishes she'd had the chance to kick the crap out of you the night we split up, if you could call it that."
"That's because she hasn't had the pleasure."
"And likely never will. Charlie's holding out for something better than you."
"You had no complaints about me when we were together."
"Sure I did. I just didn't tell you then."
"Sour grapes."
"In your dreams, maybe." She turned to face him once they'd reached his truck. "Just move your truck. I don't really need this tonight."
"Fine. Whatever."
Five minutes later, Elisabeth was back inside her apartment, reaching for the last of her Tums.
Darcy flinched when George slammed the door to his apartment.
"What's between you two?" he asked as George slammed his keys on the new coffee table. Darcy tried not to think of how much the table had cost.
"I parked in her spot." George sat heavily on Darcy's couch.
"I figured that much out. I meant the rest of it." Darcy sat in the chair on George's right.
George shrugged. "We were together. She still hasn't gotten over it."
Darcy doubted that that was it. Elisabeth Bennet hadn't seemed like a woman scorned. She'd looked more like a woman exasperated.
It was an easy feeling to have around George Wickham.
He was the least favorite of Darcy's new acquaintances, a good friend of Sean Fitzwilliam's that he'd met when Sean had asked him to meet before he'd officially interviewed with Elisabeth Bennet. George Wickham seemed like the type who would do anything to get ahead. He didn't look like he would be above lying about things to get his way, but he was the only familiar face around and that made him invaluable to Darcy, at least for tonight.
"She's more upset about the fact that I got her store," George added.
"Her store?"
"Yeah. She ran the Newton store for a while. Couldn't hack it. The boss put me in charge, demoted her butt back to Effingham."
"I could see her being upset over that," Darcy said, feeling a rush of sympathy for the woman.
George shrugged again. "It was her own damn fault. She's got no one to be mad at. You got any beer?"
"No."
"You'll need some after working with her a few days. She's a witch."
"Do you say that because you don't like her or because you two broke up?"
"I'm saying it because it's a fact. Just ask most of the people who work there. They'll tell you."
"So...what's this place like?" Darcy decided it was time to get to the main reason he'd invited George over.
"A pain in the butt. I'm glad Sean runs it and not me."
"I meant the people. What are they like?"
"Elisabeth is the worst. You've met her, so you know. Her cousin is Charlotte Lucas-"
"I met her today. I didn't know she was Elisabeth's cousin."
"Yeah. She's okay. Pretty good worker. Fast temper, so be careful when she's mad, and don't take it personally. Charlie almost always apologizes after she's had a chance to cool down."
"What's with those strange glasses she wears?"
"Strange glasses?" George looked confused.
"Yeah. They look like safety glasses."
George shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Some sort of skin problem she's got. You'll have to ask her for more specifics."
"What about the others?"
"Well, there's Jack Middleton. He's a pretty cool guy. He's been there for almost as long as Charlie has, which is forever. Jack's roommate is Chazz Bingley, and he's a driver. A bit of a spaceball, but a lot of fun to work with."
"Who else?"
"The Benson sisters-Caroline and Louisa. Caroline's hot and single, and she'll probably be all over you once she meets you. Louisa's cute, too, but she's already married. They can both be a bit on the witchy side, but mostly reliable. Their friend Lucy Steele works there, too. She's a real space cadet. They're all supposedly on their last chance with Sean, who's hired all of them back at least twice."
"Twice? Why'd he fire them the first time?"
"The history of the Benson sisters is long and complicated. Just be careful not to rely too heavily on them staying a long time. They're all waitresses, although Caroline and Louisa can cook when needed." George grinned. "The witch downstairs used to call them the Gossip Sisters. Probably still does."
"They gossip a lot?"
"Who doesn't? Lissie isn't any better than they are."
"Are there any other waitresses?" Darcy decided it would be better to end this conversation before George launched into another long diatribe about his new boss.
"Kit Longbourne. She's sick a lot. You'll recognize her instantly."
"How?"
"Look for a butch blonde with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth and an attitude that would fit in with the Hell's Angels. That'll be Kit."
Darcy got a good image of the person George had described and nearly winced.
"Then there's Erin Jennings. She's great. She works only days, opens the salad bar, waits tables during the buffet and leaves sometime around one. She has another job. She's the best. You'll love working with her."
"Maybe."
"I think that's it for the waitresses. There might've been a new hire-besides yourself-since I left, but I wouldn't know them."
"Is there anyone else I should know about?"
"The drivers---I told you about Chazz already, but there's also J.P. Thorpe. He needs to learn to watch his mouth around certain people but he's not really that bad a guy. He's funny as hell, too. And Topher Brandon, he's a bit older and he has another job, but he's cool. Walt Elliot's not very dependable, but he's in good with Sean, or so he thinks, which is why he still has a job. I'd have fired his butt long ago if he worked in my store.
"You already know Sean, so I'll skip him. Bubba Collins is the other assistant manager. He's...well, he's kind of an idiot. I'm sure he means well, but the only reason he became a manager is because he sucks up to Sean more than Walt does."
"I know the type."
"I'm sure you do." George grinned. "I think that's everyone."
"Thanks for telling me about everyone there."
"No problem, man. I figured you wanted to have a little more information before starting a new job, that way you'd know who to watch out for, right?"
"Something like that."
"Glad to be of help, then."
George gave him a look that seemed to size him up. Darcy was getting a bit tired of it. He was more than qualified to work as a waiter in a small-town restaurant, for God's sake. He would be willing to bet he had the only college degree of all the employees at Planet Earth Pizza. He had more management experience than George Wickham would ever have.
"If you don't mind my asking, why are you here?"
Darcy was ready to throw him out. "It's a personal issue," he said shortly. "And one I don't really want to discuss, if that's all right with you."
"No problem, Darce. I only asked because Lissie brought it up. She seemed to think I knew. I pretended I did, but I thought maybe you'd want to talk about it." George grinned. "And when battling with the enemy, it's best to have as much ammo as possible."
"You just keep on pretending you know and she'll never doubt for a second that you do," Darcy said.
"Yeah, I'll do that." George checked his watch and said, "Damn, I didn't realize it was almost seven-thirty. I've gotta go. Hot date."
"Of course you have to go," Darcy said, standing and silently sending his thanks to God. "Thanks again for coming."
"Like I said, no problem. If you need any more info or advice or anything, I'm the one you call."
"Uh...thank you."
"How is the slimeball?" Charlie asked.
"Hot for you." Elisabeth flopped onto the couch and reached for the cigarette she'd left burning. There was a little bit left.
"God! Tell me you're joking."
"To a point. I think he's under the impression that going out with you would make me mad."
"Would it?"
Elisabeth gawked at her cousin. "You're kidding, right?"
Charlie returned her stare. "Please. I'm not that desperate-not yet, anyway."
"Good."
"Why's he so hot to make you mad, anyway? He's the one who walked out that morning. He's the one who got your store."
"Because George loves to twist the knife. He's a sadistic creep. If you want further psychoanalysis-and you could make a career for yourself on him alone-you'll have to talk to him personally."
"I'm not allowed to look him up in the records to see if he's a client at Heartland," Charlie said, referring to her second part-time job as a crisis counselor. "Anyway, I'll pass on that one."
"You suppose they're talking about us up there?"
"Uh-huh."
"You think Darcy's going to get a good idea of what we're like?"
"Not if he's listening to George Wickham's version of it. He'll make us sound like witches and make the Gossip Sisters sound like angels."
"I don't know. He might not make you sound bad. After all, he thinks you're cute."
Charlie snorted. "I can't imagine why. What guy would want a girl with scaly patches of skin all over her body?"
Elisabeth wished there were something she could do to make Charlie feel better about what had happened to her. Charlie rarely got maudlin about her skin problems, but when she did, Elisabeth never seemed to have the right words to make her feel better. "They're not scaly---"
"Anymore."
"And they weren't all over your body."
"Nearly forty percent! I'd say that's quite a bit." Charlie slammed her book shut. "God, now I'm depressed. Do we have any chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream?"
"We should unless you ate it all last night." Elisabeth had just finished her cigarette when there was a knock at the door. "Lord," she muttered as Charlie got up from her chair to answer it. "That better not be George or I won't be responsible for my actions."
Charlie opened the door and said, "Hi."
"Hi, Charlie." A tall, slim brunette walked into the apartment.
Elisabeth waved from the couch, smiling. "Hi, Jenna," she greeted her sister.
"Hi. How are things?"
"They could be better," Elisabeth admitted. "I've been feeling like complete garbage all day."
"Sorry to hear it." Jenna motioned for Elisabeth to move her feet from the couch. Elisabeth sat up and Jenna seated herself.
A year earlier, Jenna had shared the apartment with her and Charlie, back when they were all working at Planet Earth Pizza and scraping by on two waitresses' and an assistant manager's salaries. Back then, they'd taken turns sharing the bedrooms, with the third person sleeping on the hide-a-bed in the couch. They'd stay up until all hours of the night watching movies or talking or doing any number of fun things.
Then Jenna had finished her master's degree in psychology and had taken a job as a therapist in St. Louis, moving away and leaving the other two behind. Six months later and much more unhappy, Jenna had returned home, moved in with her mother and stepfather, and taken a job as a child therapist at Heartland Human Services. Everyone agreed that Jenna was much happier now that she was home again.
Especially her mother.
"How's everything at work?" Jenna asked.
"Dull as usual," Charlie answered. She grinned innocently and added, "Chazz is ready for school to be over."
Jenna pretended to be unaffected by this news, but her hazel eyes gleamed and she said, "You mean he isn't done yet?"
"Chazz is never going to be done with Pemberley University," Elisabeth said. "I think he's trying to become a professional student."
"He is not," Jenna shot back, turning pink.
"Come on, Jen. First he went to get a degree in radio broadcasting, then business management, now he's into electrical engineering. He's been in college for nearly five years with no end in sight. The next thing you know, he'll be talking about getting into broadcasting again."
Jenna's almost schoolgirl-like crush on Chazz Bingley was well-known-to everyone except Chazz, of course. Jenna would never pursue Chazz because despite having the confidence to deal with a myriad of stressful situations that cropped up in her line of work, she was too shy to approach him for a date.
"How's everything going at your place?" Charlie asked.
Jenna sighed. "Things are as they usually are. Mom's off work again."
"Laid off or sick leave?"
"Sick leave, she says. Something about her 'poor nerves' keeping her from doing anything with her hands."
"The only poor nerves there are at home are yours, no doubt," Elisabeth muttered, trying not to think of her mother. "And Liddy?"
"Still working at Wal-Mart and marking time until she finds another man. You know, if you'd come around for dinner sometimes, you'd know these things."
Elisabeth sighed and waited for the lecture that was sure to come. Elisabeth and her mother had had very little to do with each other since the day of her father's funeral. Eric Bennet had been the buffer between his overbearing wife and his high-strung middle daughter, but his death due to kidney failure four years ago had destroyed much of the common ground they'd shared.
Ruth Bennet's sudden remarriage a year later to a man Elisabeth didn't consider good enough to enter her father's house, much less take his place in it, hadn't helped matters any. Elisabeth tried to avoid her mother as much as she could.
"It's better for the family that I don't," she said quietly. "You know that, Jen."
Jenna didn't say anything but the three of them knew Elisabeth was right.
"I almost decided not to stick around," Jenna said. "I saw the slimeball's car sitting out there and thought he was here."
"He's upstairs," Charlie said. "Did you see that sweet black convertible sitting in apartment four's space?"
"Yeah."
"Our new neighbor just got hired at Planet Earth Pizza. George is up there talking to him."
"Oh, that'll give him a great idea of everyone who works there." Jenna sighed and ran a hand through her perfect dark brown hair. "So, what's this new guy like?"
"Don't get me started," Elisabeth said.
"Yeah, because we might be having a Pride and Prejudice moment coming," Charlie said with a sly grin.
"A what?" Elisabeth was confused.
"Our new employee's name is Darcy Williamson."
"So what? It's a name just like any other," Elisabeth said as Jenna burst into laughter.
"C'mon, El. You remember the book, don't you?"
"No."
"Surely you remember the movie. My favorite movie of all time?" Charlie raised her eyebrows.
"I thought that was Animal House."
"Not hardly."
"Then since I don't seem to be remembering this, what exactly was it about?" Elisabeth demanded.
"Well, there's this young woman---"
"The second of five sisters," Jenna added.
"Who starts out hating this rich, arrogant guy but winds up falling in love with him. At the end of the book, they get married." Charlie's grin widened. "Her name is Elizabeth Bennet, and the man she falls in love with is Mr. Darcy."
While Jenna and Charlie howled with laughter, Elisabeth tried to think of reasons not to kill them both. "Very funny," she said.
"I thought it was when I heard his name," Charlie said.
"I don't have four sisters. I only have two. My name is spelled with an 's,' and his first name is Darcy, not his last. And I wouldn't marry him if he were the last man in the world."
Elisabeth wasn't sure what was so funny about her last statement, but it sent her sister and cousin into hysterics again.
"We'll see," Jenna said. "We'll just see."
"How was work for you today, Jenna?" Elisabeth said, trying to get off the subject.
It took two minutes and several repetitions of the question before Jenna answered.
"Not the greatest. I had a really difficult case today. Every time this one little girl comes in, I want to cry because she's so defenseless and scared. I have to save it for after the session's over."
"I didn't think you were supposed to let your work affect you so much," Elisabeth said.
"It's almost impossible," Charlie replied. "You know that. You live with me."
"Yeah, but most of the time all I hear you whine about is how much you'd like to kill this one client and about how this other client got stubborn and wouldn't do anything."
"When I don't have a crisis client, you're right. When I do, though, it's another story." Charlie sighed. "I remember this one client whose childhood...well, when I got out to my car at the end of my shift, I cried for a while and raged about how cruel people could be to each other."
"You're having to take a lot of problems on your shoulders and help that person find a way through it. It's not easy," Jenna agreed.
"Yeah, because they have to see the solution. I could tell a client what he or she needs to do, but until that person sees it and acknowledges that it's the best thing to do...pfft."
"I knew there was a reason I became the manager at Planet Earth Pizza instead of getting a degree in psychology," Elisabeth said with a grin. "When I see a solution to someone else's problem, I can tell them how to fix it and they have to do it."
"She's mocking us," Charlie said.
"I think so, too."
"Let's kill her." Charlie picked up the pillow her feet had been resting on and hit Elisabeth with it. Jenna picked up her pillow at the same time Elisabeth did and the three of them went at it.
Ten minutes later, with no definitive winner declared, Elisabeth said, "Boy, you can really tell we're mature adults, can't you?"
The three of them laughed and Elisabeth yawned.
"You're looking better than you did at the store earlier," Charlie said.
"Yeah, but I think I'm gonna go to bed."
"El, it's only seven-thirty."
"I don't care. I really need to sleep. If anyone from the store calls, tell them I've died."
"You look dead," Jenna said.
"Thanks a lot." Elisabeth gave her a dirty look and went to her room. She fell asleep almost immediately, not bothering to change out of her uniform.
What have I done?
Darcy lie in bed well after midnight, unable to sleep. Ginger had called soon after George had left, and she'd told him again that she didn't need him to do this for her sake. Darcy had a feeling that she knew he was weakening already, and he hadn't even started working there.
Darcy had tried to reassure Ginger that he was committed to working the year, but the arguments didn't sound convincing even to him. The one thing he had to remember, the one thing that he knew would get him through this, was the knowledge that if he gave up before the year was over, he would never be able to see Ginger again.
For a moment, he thought he was being overdramatic, but he knew better than to underestimate Catherine de Bourgh. She would find a way.
He had to stay.
But George's descriptions of his co-workers, from Elisabeth on down, worried him. How could he get along with any of these people? Sure, the girl with the funny glasses had seemed nice enough, but even she had looked at him with that assessing look that George had gotten and thought little of him.
He had nothing in common with the people he'd be spending the next year with, and this made him doubt his resolve even further.
They lived paycheck to paycheck. Despite having to spend the next year of his life here, he had credit cards to fall back on when his money ran short.
Most of them had probably never traveled much farther than Chicago or St. Louis. He'd traveled all over the world by the time he was twenty-one.
They thought TGI Friday's was a fancy restaurant. He couldn't even look at the place without cringing.
He didn't even want to think about the clothes they wore, the limited social functions a town like this was likely to provide, or the lack of style, taste, wit...all the things that made life in New York bearable.
Darcy tried to tell himself that they were good, honest, hard-working people who didn't deserve to be thought of as inferior to people in New York, but it was impossible. And he'd agreed to spend a year among them.
Welcome to hell, Darcy.
She was in a shopping mall wearing a wedding dress. It was the most hideous gown imaginable-how the hell could one fit all that lace and all those stupid bows onto one gown? How could the skirt get so wide that she felt like she was wading in white tulle? Why was she finding it so difficult to breathe?
Elisabeth knew that if she was ever going to wear a wedding dress, it would not be this one. She wanted something elegant and unique. It would not be this frothy, bow-ridden thing.
And what on earth was she doing in a shopping mall wearing a wedding dress, anyway?
"El?"
Here, at last, was a bit of reality-Charlie. But it wasn't Charlie as Elisabeth knew her, for this Charlie was slimmer, wearing a floor-length gown of green satin without any ornamentation on it at all, and her normally unmanageable golden brown hair was elegantly styled in tidy ringlets falling just past her shoulders.
"What are we doing here?" Elisabeth asked.
"You're getting married."
"Why?"
Charlie's brow furrowed. "Because someone asked you to marry him, you accepted, and here we are."
"Who?"
Charlie looked at her with a puzzled expression. "They're waiting," she said before turning and walking away from her.
Elisabeth looked down at her feet and for the first time noticed the red carpet. "Red carpet treatment?" she mumbled. When she looked up again at Charlie, she noticed that she was walking toward a group of people who all faced forward. It certainly appeared as though they were here for a wedding. She saw no one who looked familiar.
What the hell is going on here?
The music changed from the instrumental crap that Charlie sometimes put on the stereo to "Here Comes the Bride," and suddenly, her setting changed as well. She was no longer in the shopping mall, but rather standing in the back room of Planet Earth Pizza, still wearing the ridiculous wedding dress, still hearing the music. She looked around her and saw that people were now sitting in the dining room, but where the beverage bar usually sat was an altar and a preacher standing before it. There was no groom.
Elisabeth could not move her feet, for they were tangled in her gown and wouldn't let her move. Her skirt was so weighted down with the bows that she thought it was nailed to the floor. The guests turned to look at her, and again, Elisabeth saw no one that she knew, with the exception of one person who was a regular customer at the store and not one she liked very much.
From behind her, a voice that sounded oddly like Caroline Benson's hissed, "Get going!"
Again, she tried to take a step and couldn't. A hand grasped her elbow, but she jerked away and nearly fell over. The hand steadied her and snapped, "What the hell are you doing? I'm supposed to be walking you down the aisle."
Elisabeth realized that the man holding her elbow was Sean.
"But-but you're married to Rachel!" Elisabeth cried out. "I can't marry you!"
"You aren't marrying me. You're marrying him, and he's waiting."
"WHO IS?!"
Sean didn't answer her question, dragging her down the aisle. Apparently, he knew how to move her about in that ridiculous dress, because when she tried to take a step she couldn't.
As they reached the altar, Elisabeth finally started recognizing some of her wedding party. In addition to Charlie, there were Lucy and Caroline-dear God, they were the last people she would have in her wedding party! And on the other side stood...
She almost screamed. There stood George, J.P., and Walter.
I'm not marrying one of them, am I??
The minister beamed when he saw her. "At last, we have the bride. Dearly Beloved-"
"Excuse me? There's no groom," Elisabeth said, praying that one of the groomsmen wasn't about to step forward to claim her as the prize.
From her left, she heard Charlie gently clear her throat and motion with her bouquet. Elisabeth turned to her right, and there stood Darcy Williamson.
"NO!" she screamed at last, trying to tear her skirt off so she could run away. The damn thing wouldn't let her go, no matter how hard she tried, and...
"EL!"
Elisabeth's eyes opened wide and she looked up. Charlie stood over her, her hair standing up in a mass of tangles, wearing the Dr. Seuss' Grinch T-shirt she usually wore to bed with green shorts. Her eyes were bleary and tired, but worried.
Having established that her cousin looked normal-or as normal as someone could get first thing in the morning-Elisabeth looked around at her room. Her clothes were in the hamper across from her bed, CD player on her dresser with CDs all around it, makeup covering her desk. Stolen stop sign on the wall above her headboard was a souvenir from an ex-boyfriend that was the best thing she'd gotten from that relationship. Elisabeth looked down at her legs to discover that the reason she hadn't been able to move them was because they were tangled in her Scooby Doo sheets and blanket.
"Are you okay?" Charlie asked hesitantly.
"I think so."
"Another dream where you were by yourself at the store and the orders wouldn't stop coming?"
"Not exactly. I was at the store...getting married."
Charlie cringed. "That's even worse."
"You haven't heard all of it. I didn't recognize any of the guests except for that obnoxious woman who comes in every week to complain that she got charged for a buffet when 'all she did was eat her son's crust.'"
"Which is a load of crap because the kid takes one bite of his pizza and leaves the rest," Charlie said.
"Lucy and Caroline were in my wedding party-"
"That right there would be enough to make me scream."
Elisabeth smiled faintly. "George, J.P. and Walter were the groomsmen."
"Well, at least you weren't marrying one of them."
"Yeah, I'd have tried hanging myself with the sheets if that had happened. No, I was marrying Darcy Williamson."
Charlie's eyebrows rose. "You were?"
"Yes, and it's all your fault that I had this nightmare. If you and Jenna hadn't been teasing me about that stupid movie and how the characters' names were the same, I wouldn't have had this nightmare." Elisabeth raised her arms and stretched, yawning as she did so. "When I get off work tonight I'm going to burn your copy of that movie."
"Like hell you are!" Charlie growled. "I have few pleasures in this life, El. Leave me the ones I have."
"Only if you won't repeat that...theory of yours to anyone at the store."
"I wouldn't give the Gossip Sisters ammunition, you know that." Charlie hesitated before saying, "He is kind of cute, though."
"Not my type."
"Well, I'm not the one who was just dreaming of marrying him."
Elisabeth glared at her. "I'll admit that I think he's attractive, but the last thing I need is a guy in my life. I'm through with guys for a while, especially when I'm going to be working with them. Besides, I don't need the attitude."
"Was it really that bad? Did he start bad-mouthing us right off the bat?"
Elisabeth frowned. "I told you what he said. He thinks waiting tables is child's play and stress-free."
Charlie sat on the edge of the bed. "I think we all go into this job thinking that way," she said. "In that respect, he's no different than I was when I was hired to work for the store."
"What are you getting at?"
"I want you to give him a chance. Jenna and I talked about this after you went to bed and we decided that you were being a little unfair."
"Because I made the crack about not marrying him if he were the last man on earth?"
"Partly."
"You were just as guilty as I was, Charlie. You and Jack were the ones betting on how long he'd last. You were the one who made sure to tell me he lived upstairs."
"I know, and I was wrong, too." Charlie sighed. "When it gets right down to it, waiting tables is simple. It's something that anyone can do, which is why it's a good job to start out with. It's not like trying to solve world peace or running the country or helping young children out with their problems. I think that when Darcy said this wasn't going to be stressful he was comparing it to whatever it was he used to do."
"But you know as well as I do that it's not as easy as it looks."
"Of course I do, but I didn't know that when I started out. I was sixteen and I'd never worked a day in my life. Now I hear a comment like Darcy's and I roll my eyes because I know he's in for a rude awakening, but I understand why he said it. Once he's been here a couple of weeks, he'll know how wrong he was."
Elisabeth didn't say anything but she knew her cousin was right.
"I know that yesterday was kind of a bad day for you. We had a busy lunch, you had to deal with J.P., the soda machine busted again, and you were sick. You're still getting over losing your store to George and breaking things off with him at the same time didn't help any."
"I told you that I didn't care about George and I splitting up."
"I think you did, even if you won't admit it. My point is, you're basing your entire opinion of Darcy on a twenty-minute interview when you were having a bad day. If you take that opinion of him to work, the others are going to notice it and some of them are going to see him in the same light, and that's not fair to him when he's just starting out. Doing that would be just as bad as what George undoubtedly said about you last night."
Elisabeth crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, "I hate it when you're right."
"Where would you be if I didn't point these things out to you?" Charlie grinned.
"Har bloody har. You do realize that if you're right about George, Darcy thinks I'm a raging witch."
"Prove him wrong. Then he won't be coming around here anymore because Darcy will have learned not to trust his opinion." Charlie got off of the bed.
"All right, I'll try to be nice to him."
"Thanks."
Elisabeth looked around and noticed that her alarm clock was gone. Looking over the side of her bed, she noticed it sitting on the floor.
"What time is it?" she asked.
"Nearly nine."
"Oh, no," Elisabeth mumbled, managing to free her legs at last. She stumbled out of bed and nearly knocked Charlie over. "Sorry."
"It's okay. What time do you have to be at work?"
"Ten." Elisabeth cursed. "I don't think I've ever slept that long in my life, unless it was alcohol-induced."
"You're looking a lot better today."
"Thank God for small favors. I think I had a twenty-four hour bug or something, because I'm feeling much better, too." Elisabeth made her way to the bathroom for a shower.
Twenty minutes later, she walked out of the steam-filled room with a smile on her face. It was going to be a good day, she could feel it. She walked back into her bedroom and God out underwear, a bra, black pants, and her white dress shirt with the Planet Earth Pizza logo on the pocket. It was then that she ran into a problem.
The underwear fit fine, but the black pants, she noticed, were getting a bit tight.
Well, hell. She'd lost fifteen pounds in the first month after coming back to Effingham, but apparently she'd put it back on plus a few more.
Elisabeth had never been the type to obsess about how much she weighed or what she looked like. She'd inherited a figure which she rated as average, but it did please most of her boyfriends and that was all that mattered to her. She'd figured she would gain the fifteen pounds back eventually, and she had. It was the few extra pounds that worried her a little.
Time to open up the Tae Bo videos Mom so thoughtfully gave me for Christmas last year.
With a sigh, she shimmied out of the pants and headed for her closet. She had a pair of black pants that were a size larger than she normally wore, thanks to her Granny Bess. (Granny Bess had never been good at remembering sizes when she bought her grandchildren clothes for Christmas.) She found them at the back of her closet hiding between the Tinkerbell costume she'd worn last Halloween and a heavy bathrobe she wore to keep warm during the winter. The pants fit perfectly.
Thank God for small favors. The last thing I need is to have to go out and buy new clothes.
When she went to put on her bra, however, she noticed that it felt a little tight as well. Even when she hooked it on the closest hooks, her chest felt as though it were being tortured.
"I hoped too soon," she said to herself as she put on her shirt and buttoned it, then tucked it into her pants. "Diet, here I come."
Elisabeth used her key to unlock the front door to the store even though she knew Jack was there, along with Erin Jennings, the prep waitress. The smell of pizza assaulted her nostrils even before she got the door open, which meant Jack already had the pizzas going to the high school in the oven.
"Good morning, my lady Elisabeth!" Jack called when he spied her, cheerful as ever.
"Good morning," she replied just as cheerfully. "And what substance are you on this morning?"
"I'm high on life. What's your excuse?"
"I'm having a good day, but under normal circumstances I would have to say that I don't see how anyone could be so chipper at ten in the morning. Especially given how hot it is out there."
"It's a God-given gift." Jack grinned. "And if you think it's hot out there, you should be standing next to the ovens. It's three thousand degrees and climbing."
Elisabeth decided not to dwell on that right now. "Is the school order made?" she asked.
"Half of it's in the oven now. Can't you smell it?"
"Buffet pizzas?"
"All twenty-four of them are made and ready to go, plus four cavatinis."
"Chicken wings? Spaghetti and other pastas?"
"All done. I threw out the old spaghetti because it was getting rank."
"I don't suppose Pepsi's shown up yet to fix the soda machine?"
"We're not having that good a day."
"I knew I was pushing my luck. Where's Erin?"
"Good morning, Elisabeth!" Erin Jennings called loudly, walking over to them.
"I shouldn't have asked. You're worse than Jack. Good morning, Erin."
"Bad night?"
"No, I slept okay. I woke up bad." Elisabeth wasn't about to mention her dream to Jack. Even though he could be trusted not to tell anyone outside of Chazz, he'd never let her hear the end of it.
"I thought you always woke up bad," Jack said.
"Very funny. Despite the bad start and smart aleck remarks from certain people, I'm trying to have a good day."
"Oh, we'll have to change that fast," Erin said with a grin which told her she'd do no such thing.
Elisabeth just smiled. "I'm determined that nothing is going to ruin my good day." She took a look around the dining room, noticing that the floor looked terrific and all the tables were set properly. She checked the cheese, salt and pepper shakers on the tables. They were clean and filled, just as they should be.
"Who closed last night?" she asked.
"Lucy," Erin replied.
An even bigger surprise. Lucy had a tendency to cut corners and blame other people for it when she was caught. "Nice."
"I had to put out ashtrays and wipe off a few tables."
Ah, well, it had been too good to be true. "The floor looks great, though. It's a step in the right direction."
"You're serious about this good mood thing, aren't you?"
"Uh-huh."
"I heard we got a new guy coming in today," Erin said.
"Yeah. Darcy Williamson."
"Darcy?"
Elisabeth shrugged, but she hoped Erin hadn't read Pride and Prejudice. The last thing she needed was someone else pointing out the reference.
"Poor guy. I'll bet he got into a lot of fights as a kid because of his name. What kind of parents name their son Darcy?"
"Maybe it's a family name," Elisabeth said.
"Think he'll be any good?"
She wanted to say so much, but she'd promised Charlie she wouldn't and even the thoughts were making her feel guilty. It really wasn't fair of her to condemn Darcy Williamson without giving him a chance to prove her wrong about his abilities. For all she knew, he might turn out to be a terrific waiter.
She just doubted it, that's all. But she would give him a chance.
"I don't know," she finally said. "But we're going to find out soon."
"Oh, no."
Darcy sat in his supposedly fixed car, hearing absolutely nothing happen when he turned the key in the ignition. No click, no turnover, nothing. He tried jiggling the key. When that didn't work, he smacked the steering wheel a few times, like that would help. All it did was vent a little of his frustration.
Great. Just the impression he wanted to give Elisabeth what's-her-name from downstairs. Even if he could get his car to start-and from the looks of it, he couldn't-he was still going to be late.
He rested his head on the steering wheel and tried not to let the thoughts that had kept him from sleeping well last night pervade his consciousness again.
Think of Ginger, and why you agreed to do this. If you give up on this job, you'll have to cut off all ties to her. Catherine will see to that. If you leave, she wins. She's always won. Don't you want to beat her at something, just once in your life?
That was his old therapist talking, but as Darcy had terminated with him just before moving away, he pushed the thoughts out of his mind. It didn't help him much, either.
The gentle tap on his passenger side window jolted him upright. He turned to see the brunette who'd worn the funny glasses yesterday-Carly? No, Charlie, that was it-standing beside his car. She was wearing wire-rimmed prescription glasses today.
Darcy pushed the button which rolled down the passenger window.
"Hi," she said, smiling. She had a pretty smile. "Do you remember me? Charlie Lucas?"
"Right, yes. Hello."
"Are you okay?"
"Uh, yes. I'm fine."
"The reason I asked is because you looked upset and I saw you pounding on your steering wheel."
He sighed. "I had my car fixed a week ago and it won't start."
"Ah. Sounds like the soda machine at work."
"I'm going to be late."
"Would you like a lift? I'm headed for work right now."
Darcy had been so miserable that he hadn't noticed that she was wearing a red shirt with the Planet Earth Pizza logo on it with black pants and an apron.
"You wouldn't mind?"
Charlie shook her head. "You might end up having to wait for me, though. I don't figure you'll be there much past one or so, but I'm there until four."
"That's okay."
"Then it's settled. Just give me a minute to unearth my passenger seat out from under all the junk covering it."
Darcy got out of his car, resisting the urge to kick one of the tires, and walked over to the black car Charlie had unlocked. She was busily tossing Blockbuster rental slips, two CD holders, and other assorted wrappers and papers into the floorboard in back. One paper fell out of her hand and dropped to the ground.
Darcy picked it up and read the headline.
Everything You Need to Know About Depression.
Darcy looked at her, then at the paper again.
"I think that's it." She crawled out of the car.
"You dropped this one," he said softly, handing her the paper.
Charlie glanced at it. "God, I need to clean out my car more often. This has been in there for over a year."
Darcy looked at her again, but try as he might, he didn't think she looked sad. Well, she'd said the paper was old, so maybe she wasn't anymore.
"-crisis counselor."
"Excuse me?" He'd been so busy wrapped up in his thoughts that maybe he'd found someone he could confide in, as she'd obviously been through something similar to what he'd been through, that he hadn't realized she was talking to him.
"I said, that's from my other job. I went to this seminar on depression last year. I'm a part-time crisis counselor."
"Oh!" Disappointment flooded his mind.
Charlie smiled knowingly. "You thought I was depressed."
"Well, I-yes."
"It's okay. I wouldn't be ashamed if I were, and there've been times in the last year when I...well, it's a long story."
Darcy got into the car and fastened his seatbelt. Charlie climbed into the driver's seat and did the same before starting the car.
"Depression is just like any other illness you get, only it's of the mind and not the body."
"I never looked at it in a negative light," Darcy said, feeling a bit defensive.
"A lot of people do. That's the problem." She put the car and gear and backed out of her space.
"I'm sorry," he said.
She shrugged. "It's okay." She pulled onto the street. "I'm used to people's thoughts and opinions about the people I work with."
Darcy sighed. "No, I really wasn't trying to sound insulting. I-I've had therapy myself," he said. The moment the words were out he wanted to smack himself in the head.
Charlie didn't even look at him, though. "A lot of people have had therapy these days, and those that don't probably should. I don't say that because I'm trying to generate revenue for my workplace, but because there are a lot of people out there who have problems they don't want to admit to. It only makes things worse for them when they do that. I know it's futile, but if I had one wish, I'd wish that everyone could be healthy and happy."
He was silent, wondering how fast she'd have the story around Planet Earth Pizza. He could hear the whispers now. The new employee's a mental case.
Darcy remembered when Catherine had discovered he was seeing a therapist. She'd laughed and told him he was throwing away good money, and given that he'd still been unable to conquer his fear of his aunt, she was right. But Catherine had thought he'd been seeing someone because he was still depressed over his parents' deaths. She'd have been furious if she'd known the truth.
"Are you ashamed of it?" Charlie asked quietly, turning onto a busy street.
"Of what?"
"Therapy."
"No, not at all."
Charlie glanced at him, then turned her eyes back to the road. "You don't have to worry. I'm not going to tell anyone. It's not anyone's business but yours, but if you need someone to talk to, you can come to me. And if you don't feel comfortable doing that, I'll give you our crisis hotline number."
"How many other Planet Earth Pizza employees live in our apartment complex?" he asked quickly, wanting nothing more than to get off that uncomfortable topic.
She smiled at him. "Elisabeth and I live below you. We're it."
"Oh." He couldn't really think of anything else to say.
"Would you mind if I asked you a question?"
Darcy almost groaned, because he knew she was going to ask him what he was doing working as a waiter. "Go ahead," he said in a monotone.
"How did you get your name? Was your mother a great reader, or is it a family name?"
Darcy smiled. "My mother's maiden name was Amelia Darcy. I don't think she quite grasped that the name could be dangerous to give her son."
"What about your father? Didn't he object to it?"
"He was besotted with my mother. She could've named me Attila and he wouldn't have cared." Darcy's smile faded as he thought about the father who had been lost to him for seventeen years.
He didn't often think of his parents, except as fond memories and childhood wishes. Catherine had taken over his life so utterly that he sometimes thought he'd dreamed the first ten years of his existence.
"What's your middle name?"
He was puzzled. "What's with the interest in names?"
Charlie shrugged. "I've always been interested in what names people get, and why they're named what they are. For most people, their name isn't anything significant. Others have family histories, like yours, or something funny behind them."
"Funny?"
"Yeah. I have a cousin whose name is Azure*. Most people think she was named after the color, but she wasn't."
"How did she get her name?"
"Her parents liked the show Kojak. You know, with Telly Savalas and 'who loves ya, baby?' and the lollipop?"
Darcy shook his head. "I don't watch a whole lot of television."
"That's okay. I don't think Azure's ever watched an episode of it, either, not that I can blame her."
"She was named after a character on the show?"
"Yeah. Her parents told her the character was a hooker who was killed in the first five minutes of a show that aired a couple of weeks before she was born."
Darcy chuckled. "That is pretty funny," he said.
"I don't think Azure minds the story half as much as she lets on. If she did, she wouldn't tell people when they ask her how she got her name. Although most of the time, she leaves out the hooker bit."
Darcy hesitated a moment and then said, "Ambrose."
Charlie brought the car to a stop at the corner of Banker and Wabash. "That's your middle name?"
"Yes."
"Boy, your mother was tough on you. No way to get a nickname out of that, either."
"Actually, when I was seven, the kids at school started calling me Dare."
"Dare?" The light turned green and Charlie accelerated.
He nodded. "I had to defend myself a lot because of my name. It got to where if I got dared to do anything, I'd do it. So they started calling me Dare Williamson and it stuck." Darcy remembered something and smiled wistfully. "I remember that my mother was displeased with the name, but my father just chuckled and said he was proud of me. After that, he always called me Dare."
"Why did you stop going by that name?" Charlie asked.
"My parents died. My mother's sister took us in, and she didn't like it."
"Oh." Charlie came to another stop and prepared to turn left. "My mother always wanted to have a daughter who would have a boy's nickname, so that's how I ended up as Charlotte."
"Nicknamed Charlie," Darcy finished.
"Exactly. I have two sisters named Danielle and Miranda-Danie and Andie." Charlie grinned. "My Great-Uncle Paul used to call us boys when we'd have family reunions. He'd yell, 'Where are those Lucas boys? Get them over here!' We'd insist that we were girls and then he'd ask us why we had boy names."
"Did you have any brothers?"
"No." Charlie turned the steering wheel. "Any siblings?"
"Yes. A sister named Georgiana."
Charlie laughed. "Georgie?"
"Ginger, actually."
"Oh, I see." Another stop light. "It never fails. When I'm running a little behind, I have to hit every stop light between home and the store." She sighed. "I need to ask a favor of you."
Darcy had been enjoying his conversation with Charlie, but he wondered why she needed a favor from him. She barely knew him.
"I don't know what George Wickham told you about Elisabeth last night, and I won't ask. He's a friend of yours and I don't want to insult him in front of you-"
"He's not a friend of mine," Darcy said. "I know him because I met him when I met Sean, but I don't necessarily consider him a friend."
Charlie seemed to take this in before she said, "Give El a chance. She's not as bad as I'm sure he made her out to be."
"She isn't?"
"I know she might come across the wrong way, but she's had a rough time in the past few weeks."
"George told me she'd lost the store she'd been running to him."
Charlie exhaled in frustration. "I had a feeling he would. Did he also mention that they broke up less than twelve hours before she lost the store, and that he knew she'd been demoted at the time?"
"No, he didn't."
"It figures."
"Yesterday, she didn't seem to like me very much."
"She wasn't having her best day yesterday." Charlie turned onto Keller Drive, the last turn she would make until she reached the store. "I'm not going to say she's the sweetest creature on earth, because she has her days just like everyone else, but she's not the Wicked Witch of the West either."
Darcy wasn't sure how he was supposed to respond. Was he supposed to tell her that he would try to get along with Elisabeth? Was he supposed to say that he didn't agree with George Wickham, even if he suspected he might?
"I'll try," he said.
She smiled. Right answer. "Thanks," she said. After an appropriate pause, she asked, "What did he say about me?"
"He said you were 'okay.'"
"'Okay?'"
"He also said you were a good worker but that you had a fast temper."
Charlie thought on this for a moment, then laughed. "I'll be darned," she said. "He actually got it right for once."
The driver door was practically ripped off the hinges with the force of being opened, and a sturdily-built young man of average height opened the door and yelled, "BOOM, BABY!"
"Oh, God. I swear, I meant to return The Emperor's New Groove before he got a chance to watch it," Jack said, grinning.
"Greetings, everyone! It's a beautiful day if you ignore the extreme heat," announced Charles Woodrow Bingley, known to everyone as Chazz.
"Ninety degrees in the middle of May? Extreme isn't quite the word I'd use for it," Elisabeth said, wiping the beads of sweat off her brow with a napkin. She tossed it in the trash and walked into the break room to have a cigarette. "You didn't happen to see Charlie on the roads, did you?"
"Sorry, no," Chazz replied, passing by the room towards the office, where he would clock in.
Elisabeth looked up at the clock. Five minutes before eleven...where was she?
She thought of another thing as she opened up a fresh pack of cigarettes. Where was Darcy?
Perhaps he decided he didn't want to work here after all.
Elisabeth grabbed her lighter and lit the cigarette, trying not to think on that sentence in so positive a light. After all, she was supposed to be nicer to him. Or at least, she was supposed to try.
She took a puff on her cigarette and inhaled deeply. A few seconds later, she was hurriedly gripping the edge of a table, a wave of dizziness enveloping her. She stuck her cigarette in the ash tray and sat down in a chair, putting a hand to her forehead and trying to regain her equilibrium.
"Are you okay?"
Elisabeth looked up to see Erin standing in the doorway, looking concerned.
"I'm fine."
"Are you sure? You looked sorta like I have sometimes when I'm not feeling well."
Elisabeth nodded. "I just got dizzy. Leftover effects from yesterday, probably."
Erin still looked unconvinced, but Elisabeth straightened in her chair and smiled weakly. When Erin had walked back to the front, Elisabeth stared at her cigarette with a frown.
She'd been smoking since she was sixteen, and never once had anything like that happened to her. Not even on a day after an illness. She picked up the cigarette and took another puff. Again, her vision swam somewhat and she was grateful she was sitting down.
Once Elisabeth felt more like herself again, she crushed the cigarette out and took a few hesitant breaths. Nothing happened. Another few breaths and Elisabeth decided she would live. She stood up and slowly walked out of the break room into the kitchen.
"I know, we're late!" Charlie called as the back door opened and slammed shut. "Darcy's car wouldn't start, then I managed to hit every red light in town. Next time I'm going to leave at seven in the morning just to make sure I get here on time."
"I was beginning to..." Elisabeth took a few steps toward her cousin before the dizziness returned and overwhelmed her, turning everything black.
OUCH!!
The pain in her head was intense. Elisabeth wanted to put a hand to her head but a gentle voice said, "Don't move, El."
"B-but I have to open the store," she screamed-only it seemed as though no one had heard her. Perhaps the screaming had been in her head. Everything else in her head was screaming at the moment.
Elisabeth allowed her hand to drop back at her side as she slowly opened her eyes.
"Are you sure it was the heat?" That was Charlie, who put something cool on her head.
"Believe me, you see a lot of it at Nova," Erin said. "She wasn't doing well a few minutes ago, even though she said she was fine."
"My sister got heat exhaustion once," Darcy added. "This is what the first-aid guide said to do for it."
"Maybe she should go home," Charlie said, a note of concern in her voice.
"That would probably be for the best," Jack murmured.
"I'm not going home," Elisabeth said, and this time she knew she had been heard. She tried to sit up and felt dizzy again.
"Lay down," Darcy ordered.
"I'm fine. I just got a little dizzy is all."
"You passed out," Charlie told her, easing her back to the ground.
"Is the store open?"
"No," Erin said. "Don't worry, no one's out there yet."
Elisabeth let her other senses kick in. Her head was throbbing badly, despite the ice pack on her head. "Did I hit my head?" she asked.
"Luckily, no. Darcy caught you before you hit your head on the make table," Charlie said.
She went to put a hand on her chest...and encountered bare skin. She jerked upright, something she immediately regretted as it only made her dizzy again, and looked down at herself. Her shirt had been untucked from her pants and the top three buttons were undone, revealing a bit more of her chest than she felt comfortable with in front of her co-workers. Her pants, she noticed, had been unbuttoned as well.
"Who the hell did this?" she snapped, reaching for the undone buttons and fastening them.
"I did," Darcy said calmly.
"Why?"
"Because you were suffering from heat exhaustion, that's why. I was pretty sure one of the first things you're supposed to do is loosen restrictive clothing, which I did."
"Why did you have to do it?"
"Elisabeth!" Charlie hissed.
"Well, he could've told you to do it, rather than doing it himself."
"What do you think he was doing? Trying to go for a quick feel?"
Elisabeth opened her mouth to give a snapping reply before shutting it. When she felt under control, she continued. "I'm fine. I didn't have heat exhaustion. I merely felt woozy for a second. There was absolutely no reason for him to undress me."
"You were out for nearly a minute, and I would hardly call loosening a few buttons 'undressing you.' What's the matter with you? You should be thanking him for what he did instead of yelling at him."
"If she's this disoriented, maybe she should go to the hospital," Erin said.
"If you must know, I was having a bad reaction to a cigarette!" Elisabeth slowly raised herself onto her feet and looked around. They'd brought her into the dining room, where four sets of eyes were staring at the windows with unabashed interest in the scene that had unfolded in the dining room.
With tentative steps, she made her way back to the kitchen and towards the office, where her keys were. By the time she'd reached the front again, Charlie had already let in the customers who'd been waiting and was getting them drinks. Jack and Erin were putting the other half of the school order in the oven. Chazz and Darcy were standing in front of the register.
"That's the last time I ever help anyone out," Darcy muttered.
"Erin's right. She should go to St. Anthony's and get checked out, if for no other reason than she might need time off of work."
"Imagine, thinking that I was wanting nothing more than a...a...it's ridiculous!"
"What would you think if you'd awakened to find yourself half-unclothed, and the person who'd done it was a total stranger?" Chazz grinned. "If she was as cute as El, I'd consider myself lucky, but I know it's different for a woman."
"Cute? Elisabeth? 'Cute' is hardly the word I'd use to describe her."
"C'mon. You have to admit that she is attractive."
"If you want to see attractive women, come to New York sometime. Elisabeth Bennet is tolerable, nothing more, and even that's a stretch."
Elisabeth gripped the keys in her hand so hard her knuckles turned white. She took a few steps back so that no one would know she'd heard Darcy's comment. Oddly enough, the anger she felt was making her feel much better, and her head didn't seem to hurt as much.
Charlie had returned from getting drinks for her table. Elisabeth walked up to her. "You remember that promise I made to you this morning?"
"Uh-huh." Charlie's attention was on the touch screen in front of her.
"Forget it. I'm not about to try and get along with a jerk like him."
"Are we back to the undone buttons?"
"No, we're talking about him saying that I looked 'tolerable.' That's what we're talking about."
"I shudder to think of his opinion on my looks," Charlie said as she finished with the screen and grabbed the ticket from the printer.
"Am I supposed to let him insult me and be okay with it?"
Charlie stopped what she was doing and turned to face her. "No, you're not. But you need to make an effort to get along with him here or else you're gonna have Sean down your throat."
"This is not my life," Elisabeth groaned as she went to unlock the doors, making sure not to make eye contact with Darcy as she passed him by.
*Author's note: According to my parents, the story of how I got my name is absolutely true.