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Sean returned to his office, where Elisabeth was sitting, with a small smile on his face. "I never thought Charlie would be into public indecency," he said as he sat in the only other available chair.
"Don't tell me what they were doing. I might get jealous," Elisabeth quipped. "I take it they're back together."
Sean nodded. "I didn't hear all the details. I just saw the end result and banished him to the walk-in. I hope nobody got offended. The last thing I need is a complaint to Thomas Bertram about two employees making out where kids could see them."
"We were just kissing!" they heard Jack yell. "You make it sound ten times worse than it actually was."
"That's because I managed to stop you in time! Now get in that walk-in and stay there!" Sean yelled back.
"I didn't think she'd actually do it," Elisabeth said. "She said she had something in mind, but I didn't think she'd actually get up enough nerve to do it. Especially since they've gone without speaking for several days."
"I would say I was glad she did do it if it weren't for what followed when she did." Sean turned his attention to the computer, where he punched a few buttons and brought the day's sales totals up. He whistled. "We're up thirteen hundred."
"That's good. Thank God I wasn't here to deal with it."
"Well, you may not want to stick around much longer. George is supposed to be coming around soon," Sean told her. "Thomas Palmer is having another chat with him."
"How come?" Elisabeth asked.
"Sexual harassment claim number three showed up yesterday. Remember Marianne Brandon?"
Elisabeth gasped. "He didn't! That slimeball!" As shock wore off, Elisabeth started to laugh. "That idiotic slimeball. I guess no one bothered to tell him that Marianne's husband is a retired Army captain. He'll kill him, which would solve my problem but would only create more for poor Marianne."
"Well, 'poor Marianne' has agreed to come to work here, provided that George isn't demoted and..." Sean sighed. "I'm sorry, El. I didn't mean to bring that up again."
"Hmm? Oh, you mean my demotion, which took place in front of George. Water under the bridge. As a matter of fact, it was the best damn thing that happened to me, because if I hadn't been working here, I never would've gotten to know Darcy. He'd probably still be with Charlie and I would be miserable and pregnant and lonely. Instead, I'm just miserably pregnant."
"That's one way of looking at the situation." Sean went to the delivery screen and frowned. "Damn it, J.P. is still out with that delivery to the mall. I told him not to be hanging around the Zales counter."
"The Zales counter? Why's he hanging around there? It's not like he makes enough money to buy anything there and he doesn't have a girlfriend, anyway."
"Yes, he does. Have a girlfriend, I mean. She works at Zales, so whenever there's a delivery out there, he sticks around to chat with her for a few minutes. Only you know how J.P. is with his 'few minutes.'"
"They drag out into hours," Elisabeth said with a nod. "Want me to call and see if he's there?"
"No, I'll do it." Sean picked up the phone and dialed the number on the delivery order. "Hello. Is there a J.P. Thorpe there by any chance? I'd like to speak to him. Yes, I'll hold." Sean drummed his fingers on the desk. "J.P., if your lazy carcass isn't back in this store within ten minutes, you're getting written up. As it is, you're going to be first on my list to give the oven a thorough cleaning next week. Get back here now." Sean hung up the phone before J.P. had a chance to say anything. "That put the fear of God into the boy."
"I could've done that," Elisabeth protested. "The last thing anyone wants to deal with is a furious pregnant woman. You should've let me talk to him."
Sean just smiled and turned back to the computer. "Have you and George got everything worked out?" he asked as his fingers danced over the keys.
Elisabeth sighed. "I sure hope so. That's part of the reason I'll be relieved when I finally have the baby. Once he signs those papers and everything goes through, it'll all be over. Darcy will be the father and I won't have nightmares where George shows up and demands parental rights."
"I don't see George doing that. Can you see him trying to take care of a baby? It would be too much responsibility."
"Reality doesn't have much of a place in nightmares. And there is a big factor that could be a problem if George finds out the truth about Darcy." Elisabeth frowned. "You didn't do something stupid like tell him the truth, did you?"
"Of course not," Sean said irritably. "I wasn't supposed to tell anyone who Darcy was, and except for Rachel, I didn't. This isn't to say that George couldn't figure it out on his own, but if he knows, it didn't come from me."
"Okay, okay. I didn't figure you had told him, but at this point I'm paranoid. I'm so close to the end of this mess that I'm convinced something's going to go wrong before the baby's born."
Sean clicked the mouse and waited for something to appear. When it hadn't appeared after a minute, he clicked on the mouse again. Nothing happened. He cursed loudly and got up out of his chair. Elisabeth craned her head to see him stalking to the walk-in. He threw the door open and growled, "The damn computer's locked up again!"
A shivering Jack walked into the office. "What have you done to it now?" he asked, sitting down in Sean's chair. He turned the computer off, waited about ten seconds, then turned it back on. Elisabeth got to her feet with a groan and decided to leave him alone with the computer in case he thought she'd done something. As she stood, she felt a twinge that was a bit stronger than the ones she'd been having.
She was about to wonder if it was the start of something when she mentally shook her head. She was being silly. From everything she'd heard, contractions were supposed to be a lot worse than a relatively minor pain, so this couldn't be it. She made her way to the front of the store just in time to see George Wickham walk in.
"Oh, God," she muttered under her breath. She hadn't seen him since the day of Granny Bess's funeral, although she heard plenty from Lydia about him. "Hi, George."
"Lissie! Good to see you," George said with a smile. "Still haven't had the brat yet, huh?"
Elisabeth gestured to her still-round stomach. "What gave it away, genius?"
"I'm sorry we didn't get the chance to talk at your grandmother's funeral, but your sister...well, you know Lydia. She tends to take up a lot of time, doesn't she?"
"It's just as well we didn't talk. I might not have been able to stop myself from screaming at you, and I had more respect for Granny Bess than that. Besides, I don't think we have anything more to talk about. By next week at the latest, I'll have had this baby and you'll get your chance to permanently avoid responsibility."
"Well, see, that's what I was sort of hoping to talk to you about."
Elisabeth felt the color drain from her face. Oh, God, no. This can't be happening. I know this isn't happening. This is a nightmare, and I'm going to wake up very soon in bed with Darcy to tell me that it was just a nightmare.
"Really?" she asked in a small voice, knowing that her nightmare was about to come to life. You can't do this to me! she wanted to scream.
"Yeah. I've been thinking about this a lot, and, well, the idea of being a father has become a bit more appealing to me."
"It has?" Elisabeth felt as though she'd gone numb and could do nothing but parrot what he was saying.
"Yeah. I know I seemed resistant to the idea at first, especially since I'm still far too young to be saddled with a kid, but then I started thinking about how this was my child. My son. A little boy who could grow up just like me."
"But I'm having a girl," Elisabeth protested weakly.
George frowned, as though he hadn't known that already. "You're sure about that? Well, no matter. A little girl with my attitude and good looks should be fine, too. I think it's important for children to have a mother and a father, don't you?"
"Darcy is going to be her father," Elisabeth said.
"No. Darcy's going to be around, but I'm her father. No one can take that away from me, Lissie." George smiled warmly. "This is starting to get me excited. The idea of fatherhood gets better all the time. I know we've had our differences, but who knows? Maybe we could get back together and provide the little rugrat with a stable family life. That would be nice, wouldn't it? You, me, and little Georgina in there." Elisabeth hadn't noticed it, but George was close enough to poke a finger into the flesh of her stomach. She almost laughed when the baby moved and he jumped back in terror.
But this was no laughing matter, and she knew it. George was trying to be clever with this "I'm ready for fatherhood" routine, but she knew him. She'd known this day would come as soon as Darcy had told her the truth about who he was, and here it was. George wanted money.
"What do you want, George?" she asked.
"Nothing except the privilege of being called Daddy. I think I've earned that, don't you?"
Elisabeth snorted. "How? You've done absolutely nothing up to this point which would indicate that you wanted to become a father. You probably would've run screaming out of a room if I'd been the one to tell you instead of Caroline Benson."
"I went to bed with you, didn't I? That's my kid in there."
"I'm not even going to dignify that with a response. Let's just cut through the bull, George. What do you want?"
George was silent for a moment before he grinned slyly. "You know me so well, Lissie. I should've remembered that. I don't know why we didn't end up staying together, you know, because we're two of a kind."
"God help me if that ever becomes true in any way."
"Be that way, I don't care. As for what I want...well, Lydia tells me Darcy has a little bit of money stashed away. She didn't seem to know how much, but I'm willing to bet it's plenty since he worked at De Bourgh Enterprises for a while. Say what you will about Catherine de Bourgh, she's not the stingy type when it comes to the higher-ups."
If I were to kill him, there wouldn't be a jury in this country that would convict me of it. I'm temporarily insane and so hormonal that I can't be held responsible for my actions.
"So I'm thinking that maybe my signature on that little legal document you've been keeping for the big day might be worth something. A couple of dollars, perhaps. What's a few dollars to someone with as much money as Darcy Williamson? Nothing. And it'll do me a world of good. If it makes you feel better, you guys can consider it a wedding gift to me and your sister for when we get married."
Elisabeth couldn't help feeling disgusted. "You're not going to marry Lydia. You're just with her to play games with my head."
"Believe it or not, Lissie, everything I do doesn't revolve around you. I happen to like your sister. She grows on a person. I might marry her. Life would never be boring if I did, that's for sure. About this little deal we've got going, I think that one hundred should be enough for me."
"A hundred dollars?"
George laughed. "That's a good one! No, a hundred thousand dollars. A drop in the bucket for him, a life savings for me. I get the money and you and Darcy can live happily ever after with the kid. Otherwise I might have to refuse to sign them and who knows where that will lead?"
Elisabeth knew if she didn't want this to descend to the level of hell that had become her nightmares, she would have to stop this now. "I'm so glad you've decided to take some responsibility for the baby at last," she said with a slight tremor in her voice. "That's nice. I had a feeling you might be working up to this, since you humiliated me at the deposition by insinuating that I was a slut. Then you started dating my sister, which I thought was strange since you called her a bubble-headed nitwit when we were going out."
"Uh..."
"But then I realized that you were just trying to be a more responsible human being! I was amazed at first, since I know you so well and 'responsible' doesn't seem to be something you'd be capable of. I had to give you the benefit of the doubt, though. Everyone can change, George. Even you. Which was, of course, why you were asking Lydia questions about Darcy and what sort of prospects he might have. It's very sweet of you to be making sure that we'll be able to support the baby, but let me assure you that we'll be fine."
"I'm glad to know that, but..."
"Oh, there was no need to worry. We won't need any money from you. We won't be entitled to anything from you as soon as your rights are terminated."
"Money from me?" George looked shocked at the idea that she would ask.
Elisabeth smiled. "Yeah. In fact, that's been one of the best things about this decision you made to terminate your parental rights, George. Now I won't have to go to the trouble of hitting you up for child support." George was starting to look a little green. "I take it that thought never crossed your mind when you came up with this ridiculous scheme to extort money from Darcy, did it? It crossed mine."
"Well..."
"If you even think of pulling a stunt like this, George Wickham, I'll file for child support so fast you won't know I've done it until you're paying. And I'll get it, too. I can prove the baby's yours. So maybe it's for the best that you're terminating your parental rights."
"Er, right. Of course, that's why it's a good thing."
"George! Palmer's here!" Sean called.
George walked away from Elisabeth with a dazed expression on his face. Charlie, who'd been busy pretending to play the video game next to their table, turned and gave her a wide smile.
It worked this time, Elisabeth thought with relief. But will it continue to work until everything's final? What if he decides it would be worth the risk?
A tan rental car pulled into the Planet Earth Pizza parking lot. The driver parked the car, stopped the engine, and got out, stretching tired, cramped legs as she did so. With a small groan, she reached back into the car for her purse. She slung it over her shoulder, slammed the car door shut, and walked into the store.
Almost immediately, she spied Elisabeth sitting with someone who might match the description she had of Charlotte Lucas. Elisabeth had her back turned to her, so she smiled at the other woman, who was staring at her. A puzzled look crept into the green eyes, but she smiled in return. Elisabeth turned to see her.
"Ginger!" Elisabeth exclaimed, standing up. "What are you doing here?"
"I was under the impression that I'd been invited," Ginger quipped. "Of course, if you and Dare have changed your minds about that, I can catch a flight home."
"I thought you weren't going to be in until sometime tonight, that's all."
"I wanted to surprise Dare. Besides, if he'd come to pick me up at the airport like he originally wanted, I'd have been stuck without transportation. I'm used to this in New York, but I have a feeling taxi service in Effingham isn't quite up to that standard."
"Not even close." The clearing of a throat behind them caused Elisabeth to turn back to her table. She quickly introduced Ginger to Charlie as Ginger sat down.
"It's nice to finally meet you," Ginger said pleasantly.
"Same here. I've heard so much about you from Darcy and Elisabeth that I've been looking forward to meeting you for a while," Charlie replied. "I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to meet you the last time you were in town, but..."
Ginger waved aside all explanations. "Don't worry about that. Dare told me about your grandmother. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks."
Ginger looked Elisabeth over. "I was hoping that when I got here, I'd be meeting you two in the hospital with a baby," she said. "Are you getting greedy in keeping the baby to yourself?"
"Are you kidding? The last thing I want to be accused of being is selfish. I'm more than ready to share. I think she's the selfish one, because she doesn't want to let go of me." As if the baby knew it was being talked about, Elisabeth got another of the new, stronger twinges. She thought back to when she'd had the last one, but she couldn't remember how long ago that had been.
At least ten minutes ago. It was before George showed up, and that was only a few minutes ago. Elisabeth made a note of the time and told herself that if she felt another pain within ten minutes or so, she'd consider herself in labor and tell Darcy it was time to think about going to the hospital.
"Ginger! I thought you weren't getting in until late!" Darcy didn't bother letting his sister get up as he bent down to give her a hug.
"I lucked out by getting a seat on an earlier flight and decided to surprise you. Surprise!" Ginger laughed as Darcy grabbed a chair and sat down.
"Excuse me, but don't you have a ton and a half of work to do?" Elisabeth asked him, motioning to the mess of a dining room. "We don't pay you to sit around and yak with the customers, you know."
"I know you don't, but I haven't taken a break today so I figured this would be the perfect time. Besides, Bubba always sits out here with customers and does nothing, so why can't I?"
"Because you're a better man than Bubba Collins," Charlie answered.
"Bubba? Is that his actual name?" Ginger asked.
"No," Elisabeth said. "His real name's William, but he never answers to that. He's always been Bubba to us."
"Reminds me of Gray," Charlie said. "Remember him, El? We had this guy, an Army recruiter, who worked as a delivery driver for about eight months. His name was Calvin but everyone always called him by his last name, which was Gray. He even answered the phone that way."
"He was pretty cool," Elisabeth said. "A pain in the butt, but cool. Didn't you and he get into a fight once about baseball?"
Charlie rolled her eyes. "He was a Cubs fan," she explained to Ginger. "A Cubs fan with an asinine theory about how there were no real Cardinals fans until the home run chase of 1998 when everyone jumped on the bandwagon. I spent twenty minutes telling him about my family and how I was a fourth-generation Cardinals fan, and about how my grandfather had always liked the team and hadn't lived to see the so-called 'bandwagon,' but he was still insisting that his theory was right. Idiot."
"Good thing Dare didn't take you to meet the family, then, Charlie. They're all rabid Cubs fans. Even little Trey, and he's only four."
"My idea of hell," Charlie agreed cheerfully. "I knew my idea to bring Darcy and Elisabeth together was a brilliant one."
"Your what?" Elisabeth demanded. "Have you been drinking something other than Mountain Dew, Charlotte?"
"Now, now, El, leave her alone. She's happy," Darcy said. "She just got back together with Jack after a miserable week, so she's allowed to be loopy and goofy and..."
"Include 'Dopey' and you'll be halfway to the seven dwarves," Elisabeth mumbled, earning her a dirty look from Charlie. "I've had a miserable week, too. How come no one's making allowances for me?"
"What?" Charlie sputtered. "What do you think we've been doing all week with you growling at us every other second? Trying to remind ourselves that you're not really like this and that we'll be able to get in a ton of free shots once you're no longer pregnant."
"She's been thinking that, not me," Darcy said before Elisabeth could think of smacking him.
"Don't lie to her, Darcy. You've been thinking about it, too. You just won't admit it," Charlie said, wagging a finger at him.
"Darcy! You gonna start cleaning this dining room or am I gonna have to get a cattle prod?" Sean called loudly from the front counter.
Darcy rose from his seat amidst playful jeers from the ladies at the table. "I'll get back to you guys later," he said, heading for the back and the dish tub.
Charlie and Ginger got to talking about things as Elisabeth watched Darcy's progress around the dining room. He was trying to get his work done as fast as he could, tossing dishes haphazardly into the tub without thought for whether or not they could withstand his handling of them. She winced when she heard glass clink against glass.
Elisabeth was considering going to help him when she felt another twinge, this one slightly stronger than the last. She sucked in her breath and checked her watch. Only eight minutes that time.
"El? Are you all right?" Charlie asked.
Elisabeth nodded. "Yeah, I think so. Um...Ginger, I was wondering if you could drop me by my apartment. I'm feeling a little tired. I could use a nap."
"Are you sure that's all you need?" Ginger asked, having noticed the same thing Charlie had.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll be fine. Charlie's meeting some friends here, otherwise I'd have her take me."
"Okay." Ginger stood up, grabbing her purse. "Hey, Dare? I'm going to drop Elisabeth at your place so she can rest and then come back."
"I'll be here," Darcy said absently as he continued cleaning.
Charlie's friends had shown up three minutes after Ginger and Elisabeth had gone. The friends wanted something to eat, but one of them smoked so they moved over to the smoking section. Darcy brought them menus and Charlie a refill before taking their orders. He was about to return to cleaning the dining room when he noticed a sleek BMW pull into the parking lot. He almost groaned, because the last thing he needed was another customer. Still, he prepared himself for the worst.
It wasn't quite enough, as he discovered when the woman with the pale red hair walked into the store. "Anne," Darcy said with a frown. "Did Catherine send you here to give me one last chance to change my mind about quitting De Bourgh Enterprises or are you here to gloat because she cut me out of the will and put you there in my place?"
"I came to save you from a very big mistake," Anne said calmly. "Would you be kind enough to sit with me for a few minutes?"
"I think I said everything I needed to say to Catherine when she was in here last week." Darcy crossed his arms over his chest and refused to move. "Sending you here to talk sense into me is the worst possible thing she could've done."
Anne sat down at the nearest table and looked at him expectantly. It was clear she wasn't going to tell him why she'd come until he sat with her. When he didn't budge, she smiled slightly.
"I know we've had our differences, Darcy, but..."
"We don't know each other well enough to have had differences, Anne. A few dates and my aunt's hard-headed belief that we were made for each other because she liked your background don't exactly make a relationship, despite what thoughts she may have put in your head."
"I do think for myself, you know," Anne said acidly, showing the first signs of spirit Darcy could recall seeing. "I know what everyone thinks of me back at De Bourgh Enterprises, and it's not true."
Darcy almost felt guilty about that. He'd never said anything derogatory about Anne, mostly out of fear of Catherine, but he did know that people called her names----puppet, lapdog, wannabe. It couldn't have been easy for Anne. At the same time, however, she'd never indicated that it bothered her in the slightest.
"So, you were saying something about how we'd had differences, but..." Darcy motioned for Anne to continue what she'd been saying before he'd interrupted her.
"But I do care for you, and not because of any thought your aunt might've 'put in my head,' as you said. It's because I care for you that I've come here today, to warn you about Elisabeth."
Darcy couldn't help it. He laughed scornfully. "Don't tell me that she's a spy for one of De Bourgh's rivals and that her main goal was to seduce me away from the company. Or perhaps she's the love child of Marilyn Monroe and JFK and there are people after her!"
Anne stared at him contemptuously. "I shouldn't bother telling you," she said. "I came here as a friend because I felt you should know the truth about her, and you're mocking me."
"There is very little I don't know about Elisabeth Bennet," Darcy told her.
"Oh? So you do know that you're not actually the father of her little bastard?"
"She was five months pregnant when we started dating. It was sort of hard to miss that the child wouldn't be mine." Darcy knew then that Anne had not come here under the guise of friendship. Catherine de Bourgh had sent her, although he could only guess at the purpose. If it was to make Elisabeth look bad, he could care less. If there was something more sinister at the heart of it...
Catherine never had known when to admit defeat.
"Then I suppose you know exactly who is the father...or rather, who she's claiming is the father. I understand that there's some debate on that." Anne seemed to think she had him there.
"Only in the father's own mind. He tried claiming he wasn't so he could get out of any responsibility, but he is." Darcy smiled at her. "George Wickham's his name."
"So it is. I'm impressed. Apparently, she told you the truth as far as that went. Did she tell you the rest of it, though?"
Darcy caught himself before he frowned, but he'd never had a poker face and knew he'd shown confusion----weakness----to Anne. What more could there possibly be? "The rest of what?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Well..." Anne sighed. "There's no easy way to say this. You were played for a fool, Darcy, and you never caught on to it. George Wickham is the person who embezzled fifty thousand dollars from the Planet Earth Pizza advertising fund. He was Georgiana's lover before she was fired. When he left town, he came back here. Back to Elisabeth."
"That's a damned lie and you know it," Darcy snapped.
"Am I? Has Georgiana ever told you the name of the man she said stole the money before running off? I didn't think she had because you wouldn't have been with Elisabeth otherwise. I mean, I wouldn't want to be living with the woman who helped ruin my sister's life."
"Elisabeth had nothing to do with ruining Ginger's life because you're lying. You're making this up to make Elisabeth look bad, and I'm telling you now to stop it. You can tell Catherine the same thing. I don't care what underhanded plan she's come up with to try and get me back in New York, but it's not going to work. I'm happy where I am, which is as away from her as possible."
Anne opened her briefcase with great deliberation. She took out a thick manila envelope and tossed it in his direction. "Read that," she said. "It'll tell you everything you need to know."
Darcy tossed it right back at her. "I'm not reading it. It's full of lies."
"Are you afraid of the truth?" Anne scoffed. "I always knew you were a coward."
It was then Darcy's turn to scoff. "You think I'm going to go along with your games just because you call me a chicken? Think again. I'm not reading that because it's poison. George Wickham knows me. If he'd had a...a thing with Ginger, don't you think he would've done everything in his power to avoid me?"
"He knows you, but did he know who you were? Did you tell him you had a sister?"
"Williamson isn't so uncommon a name. He knew I was from New York, although he didn't know why I was here. If what you're saying is true, Ginger had to have mentioned me to him at some point. He would've known who I was and would've stayed the hell away from me. He couldn't know that Ginger never told me who he was, meaning it was safe to befriend me."
"So you didn't know who it was."
"No. Ginger refused to tell me who he was, and she never said why other than she wanted to forget that it had ever happened."
Anne pointed at the envelope. "Read that. Like I said, it'll tell you whatever you want to know about Ginger, George Wickham, and Elisabeth Bennet."
Darcy almost told her to leave, but it occurred to him that Anne might try this trick on Elisabeth to scare her away from Darcy. If for no other reason, he had to look at what was inside that envelope, otherwise he'd leave the woman he loved vulnerable. He knew it was a lie, but he at least had to know what they were saying. He grabbed the envelope and ripped it open.
The first thing he saw was a cover letter from Mark Cullen, a private investigator Catherine had hired. He gave her an itemized listing of the services he had provided. Then came the report detailing what he'd discovered.
According to the man, George Wickham had been selected to take part of a new advertising campaign for Planet Earth Pizza which featured real employees----similar to something McDonald's had done about ten years earlier. One of the people working hard on the campaign was Georgiana Williamson, an employee at De Bourgh-controlled Masterson & Fitch. The two had met and, according to two people Cullen had interviewed, fallen hard for each other.
According to Melanie Walker, who had also selected to be part of the ad campaign, Ms. Williamson appeared to be more in love with Mr. Wickham than he with her; however, the relationship was, by all she observed, a passionate one. Walker said that very few people knew, but because of their proximity in age, she and Ms. Williamson became friendly and this was how she knew about the relationship.
Darcy racked his brains to try and think of Ginger's friends. Unfortunately, outside of a few school chums she'd known for years, he didn't know any by name. The name Melanie Walker didn't strike any chords with him, however. Darcy kept reading.
The ad campaign had run into some difficulties. Being a De Bourgh venture, the campaign was expected to be the best around but not expensive. Everything was only supposed to take a few days, but a comedy of errors caused a lengthy delay. The employees who were to star in the ads were sent home only to be recalled. The first print ads were rejected as being unfit to run. The film the first commercials was shot on was destroyed in a fire. The photographer for the ads had broken his leg and a "proper replacement" had to be found. Bad weather had messed things up along the way. The second set of print ads were rejected as looking "sleazy," and the photographer had been fired, necessitating a new one, only by that time no one wanted the job because it was considered jinxed. The director of the commercials had demanded more money.
Looking back on the evidence of what had gone wrong with the ad campaign, some of which Darcy remembered hearing from Ginger herself, Darcy wondered how much easier things would've gone if Catherine hadn't taken a personal interest in the campaign. Darcy knew why she'd done so----it had been Ginger's first major undertaking, and she'd been watching for signs that Ginger couldn't handle it. He went back to reading.
Ginger had been given access to the bank accounts when the commercial director decided to ask for more money. The reason for this was simple----Ginger was the only person from the ad agency that the director was willing to speak to. A fresh-faced but rapidly-rising name in the directing world, he'd despised what he called "the establishment" and felt that a girl of Ginger's youth would understand him better than anyone else.
Why didn't they just fire the idiot? Darcy wondered idly, but the point had long ago become moot.
Ginger had been authorized to offer the man ten thousand more than he was making already and less if she could manage it, but on the morning she was to make the offer, fifty thousand dollars disappeared from the account. The first Ginger knew about it was when she received a furious phone call from her bosses, demanding to know why she'd given the director that much money.
Darcy knew this part of the story without having to reread it. Ginger had insisted that someone within the company must've taken the money for an unexpected expense, but all signs quickly pointed to her as the likely culprit. Ginger had denied it, but she couldn't explain what had happened to the money. At the end of the day, she'd been told that Catherine de Bourgh was investigating the matter and would speak with her in the morning.
Ginger had returned home, hoping to find comfort with George, only to find him gone from her apartment and her life. It hadn't taken her long to realize that George had taken the money and fled. She'd told him about the expenses and given him what she'd thought was a small loan. It turned out to be the missing fifty thousand. According to the investigator, George had boarded a train around the same time Ginger's boss discovered the money was missing. He'd returned to Effingham, and shortly thereafter had his short-lived relationship with Elisabeth Bennet.
Darcy felt cold. He was willing to believe, based on all this, that it was possible George Wickham was the man who had stolen the money. In the dim recesses of his memory, he seemed to recall that someone had said he'd been one of the employees chosen for the ad campaign. So it was possible.
"Even if part of this is true," Darcy said slowly, "I see nothing in there to indicate that Elisabeth knew what George had done. All I see is some proof that George might've been the man Ginger said stole the money."
"Fair enough," Anne replied. "After the investigator figured out who it was, he did a lot more investigative work on George himself. Keep reading and you'll see what he found."
Darcy flipped to the next page and found a second cover letter, which informed Catherine that Cullen had finished his investigation of George Wickham and Elisabeth Bennet and hoped she would be pleased with his findings.
I'll bet she was, Darcy thought sourly as he set aside the cover letter and got straight to the report. Cullen had done an admirable job of detailing the life of George Wickham before and after his ill-fated trip to New York. George had scraped through school and hadn't bothered applying to colleges, instead getting a job as a cook with Ponderosa. He worked there for six months before moving on to a cashier position at an Amoco station, which lasted another eight. He'd also had jobs working as a waiter at Ryan's, a sales clerk at Disc Jockey, and as a stock boy at Wal-Mart. None of the jobs had lasted longer than a few months.
Finally, he'd gone to work as a cook at Planet Earth Pizza in Effingham, where he met a young waitress named Elisabeth Bennet. From the first, there had been speculation about their relationship. According to a Walter Elliot, "George and Elisabeth were always flirting with each other. Everyone knew there was something between them. George dated plenty of other girls and Elisabeth dated other guys, but I think we all knew they'd end up together."
A detailed list of the girls George dated was included, along with a list of men Elisabeth had been with. Actually, there seemed to be a complete list of the men Elisabeth had dated because it included several young men she'd told him about herself, men she'd dated before she had started working at Planet Earth Pizza. Darcy looked through the list with growing fury at Catherine. How dare she compile this list! He knew she'd done it in the hopes that he'd see it and be horrified to hear that Elisabeth had actually had boyfriends before him, like that wasn't obvious. Or maybe Catherine thought, as Anne apparently had, that he'd believed himself to be the baby's father.
Darcy still didn't see any links connecting George and Elisabeth before the New York trip, however. He continued reading.
The report detailed George's rise at Planet Earth Pizza, helped along by what seemed like a strong relationship between George and former manager Walter Elliot, then later Sean Fitzwilliam. Elisabeth's progress was chronicled as well. She'd been the better employee of the two, which was why she'd made store manager first, going to Newton. Someone named John Willoughby had said, "It was clear that Thomas Palmer moved her to a new store to legitimize her relationship with George. They'd been hiding it from everyone, but it was obvious if you knew what to look for." Most telling, in Willoughby's opinion, was that neither George nor Elisabeth had been in a relationship for the three months prior to her promotion.
That's it? That's the only reason anyone thinks they were together before he left for New York? That's stupid. Darcy shook his head in amazement. He was certain he'd heard the name Willoughby somewhere before, but he wasn't sure where.
Darcy was surprised to find that Elisabeth had also hoped to be in the series of Planet Earth Pizza commercials, but had been rejected. George had been selected and went to New York.
"This is ridiculous," Darcy said, putting the papers down. "All you did was hire an investigator to try and make Elisabeth look guilty, and it hasn't worked. And this is all supposing that George is the guilty party."
"You haven't finished reading," Anne said calmly. "The link is there, Darcy. You're allowing your feelings for Elisabeth Bennet to blind you to the truth, but it's there."
"You really are a piece of work," Darcy sneered. "What do you think coming down here is going to accomplish? Do you really think I'll see the error of my ways and marry you even if I believe this tripe? I never wanted to marry you, Anne. That was Catherine's idea."
Anne swallowed visibly. "As I said, I'm here because I don't want to see you make a mistake. In spite of everything, you are Catherine's nephew and I care about you as much as she does."
"I'm not making a mistake."
Anne nodded. "Fine. You're entitled to act as you think you should. By the way, did you get to the part of the report where Elisabeth picked George up at the train station and the two of them weren't seen for two days?"
Darcy felt like he'd been slapped. Elisabeth had told him everything about her relationship with George from their first meeting to their last night together. She hadn't said anything about meeting him at the train station. He picked the report up and flipped through it until he found what Anne had referred to.
According to Anne Carter, a waitress working at the Effingham store, Sean Fitzwilliam had originally intended to pick up Mr. Wickham from the train station, but Miss Bennet insisted on doing it herself. When she got off of work, she left for the train station and wasn't seen for two days. Neither was Mr. Wickham. Queries at various places they were known to hang out in yielded little. A waiter at T.G.I. Friday's believed he saw the two of them having dinner together the evening Mr. Wickham returned to town. Shortly after Mr. Wickham's return, he put a down payment on a new truck and bought a diamond tennis bracelet, presumably a gift to Miss Bennet.What became of the rest of the money is uncertain; however, two weeks after his return, Mr. Wickham rented a safe deposit box, which he visits once a month. It is possible he put the remainder of the money there and is drawing out in small enough amounts so as not to be caught. Whatever he has in there, he keeps it in small envelopes that he does not open in public.
The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach got worse. He'd come across a tennis bracelet one day recently. The day of her grandmother's funeral, he'd been looking for cuff links and thought that Elisabeth might've put them in with her jewelry. He had noticed the bracelet but hadn't asked about it. Well, why would he have? He'd presumed it had been a gift from her father. He kept reading.
The relationship continued until early March of this year, when the couple rather suddenly and unexplainably broke up. Mr. Wickham has said he ended the relationship while Miss Bennet says it was a mutual decision. Several sources have said the couple fought often, although money was never mentioned. You are no doubt well aware of the events which followed: Miss Bennet was demoted from her managerial position at the Newton store and returned to Effingham to work as an assistant manager. Mr. Wickham was promoted to manager of that same store. Miss Bennet discovered she was pregnant at the end of May...
Darcy skimmed through this part, because he knew the story. Setting the report down, he thought about what he'd read and what he'd known before reading it. There was still no proof that Elisabeth had known what George had done in New York. Anne was trying to make it sound like the two of them had plotted all along to steal money, and it simply wasn't possible. They couldn't have known Ginger would be part of the project, or that she'd even be attracted to George. Ginger having temporary access to the bank account had been a fluke.
"I'm willing to give the girl the benefit of the doubt," Anne said quietly. "I don't think she knew he'd stolen the money at first. But at some point, she had to have known that he had more money to spend that he could've made in the commercial."
"And you think she was fine with this?" Darcy asked. "Maybe that's why they broke up. And if he did have the money, don't you think she would be opposed to having his parental rights terminated? Knowing he was an embezzler would be a hell of a hammer over his head to get him to pay up."
"Of course it would, unless she had a relationship going with someone who had a lot more money to support her and that baby."
Darcy shook his head violently. "No. She didn't know who I was when we started dating. No one but Sean knew who I was."
"She would've known if George had told her."
"George didn't know I was Ginger's brother."
"Darcy, it's admirable that you want to try and exonerate this woman, but you have to face the reality of who and what she is." Anne placed a hand on his. Darcy abruptly withdrew from her touch.
"You've proven nothing," he snapped. "There is nothing here that shows Elisabeth knew about George stealing the money, or that there was any plot, or anything like that. I'm not even sure what the hell you're accusing her of! Do you think she knew about the money? Do you think she deliberately set out to snare me? Do you think she's using me?"
"I don't know what her game is, but it does seem strange that she suddenly started liking you when you two got off to such a bad start." When Darcy looked startled at this, Anne smiled. "We've talked to a couple of people who knew about your history with this girl."
Damn you, Caroline Benson.
"She was going through a rough time when we first met," Darcy said through clenched teeth. "And I say to you again, you've proven nothing to me. You haven't even given me a theory."
"Something about this is bothering you, though, isn't it? Is it the thought that you might be playing father to the baby of a felon?"
"It's the lengths you and Catherine will go to in order to smear an innocent woman's name that disgusts me."
"I don't think that's it." Anne folded her arms across her chest. "My theory is that the reason they broke up is because of the money. Maybe George told her what he'd done, maybe he didn't. I think he mentioned your sister at one point to her, which may have precipitated the break-up. As you said, Williamson isn't that uncommon a last name. I'll assume you've mentioned your sister to Elisabeth once or twice."
"They've met," Darcy replied, deciding not to mention that Ginger and Elisabeth were currently out somewhere together.
"Then that's how she knew who you were. That's when she knew she had to hang on to you. Thank God you found out the truth about her before you did something completely foolish like marry her."
"We're engaged," Darcy said. He was pleased to notice that Anne apparently hadn't known about that, because she paled visibly. "We're getting married. And this...this theory of yours doesn't hold up. It's based on nothing that can be proven. You can't even prove that George Wickham stole the money. This whole thing is a scam to make me think badly of Elisabeth, but it's not going to work. And now that you've had your say, I think maybe you should leave."
Anne stared at the papers on the table for a minute before she started gathering them together. She stuffed them back into the envelope and said, "Fine. Don't believe me. I just have one last question for you, Darcy. You say you're engaged to this...woman. Have you considered getting a prenuptial agreement in place before you marry her?"
"Of course not," Darcy replied.
"Why not?"
"Because I don't need one. Elisabeth and I love each other. We trust each other. It would hurt her if I were to suggest one."
"Are you absolutely sure you trust her? Isn't there some part of your brain that's wanting you to be rational and ask her for a pre-nup?"
"I don't think that's any of your business."
Anne smiled coolly as she started to put the envelope in her briefcase. She slapped it back down on the table as she stood up to go. "It isn't. But if I were you, I might think twice about that prenuptial agreement. I'll leave this with you in case you need a reminder."
Darcy barely noticed when Anne left the restaurant. His concentration was almost solely focused on the envelope of lies she'd left. He refused to allow himself to believe any of it. There were too many holes, too many inconsistencies in the convoluted tale Anne had tried to sell him on. It supposed too many coincidences.
If he was to believe Anne and this investigator, George and Elisabeth had been dating before he'd ever left for New York. While in the city, George had seized an opportunity to get himself some extra money before returning home to Effingham, where he'd immediately taken up with Elisabeth again and proceeded to spend the ill-gotten gains.
With trembling fingers, Darcy opened the envelope again. There was more than he hadn't gone through. He found a record of phone calls made from Ginger's old apartment in New York during the time George was there. There were five phone calls to Effingham numbers. Two of them he recognized as the store's number. One of them was unfamiliar to him.
The other two calls were to Elisabeth. And one of those calls had been on the morning George took off with the money.
She lied to me. She told me the relationship started a month or so after he'd come back from New York, but it hadn't. They'd been together since they day he'd returned home. He bought her the diamond bracelet. He undoubtedly told her who I was. They've both been playing me for fools all along.
There was a rational portion of Darcy's brain telling him that he was being stupid. It was trying to shout that they could not have known what the effects of George's actions would be. They couldn't know that Ginger would get fired and ostracized, that he would try to help her and that his help would result in his punishment at Planet Earth Pizza. They couldn't know that he would be sent here, to Effingham. The rational part of his brain knew that Catherine wouldn't have allowed him within five hundred miles of the place if she'd known George Wickham was here...if she'd known who George Wickham was.
But the rational part of his brain wasn't in control at that moment, and it still hadn't gained control when Ginger and Elisabeth walked into the store. Ginger's eyes were bright but Elisabeth almost looked to be in pain. Darcy saw neither of these things, his sole focus on getting at the truth.
"Darcy, I hope you made plans for back-up in case..." Ginger started to say.
Darcy hustled Elisabeth away from Ginger. "Did you know about George?" he demanded.
"What?" Elisabeth looked confused.
"Did you know what George had done?"
"Dare, what are you doing?" Ginger asked. "Can't you see she's..."
"Later, Ginger! Answer me honestly, Elisabeth. Did you know what George had done when you went to pick him up from the train station?"
"Darcy, I don't know what you're talking about but this is hardly the time to have a fight. I'm..."
"He called you when he was in New York. I saw the phone records which showed that he called you. You went to get him, and the two of you spent two days alone together..."
Before Darcy could continue to accuse her, two things happened. Elisabeth had another contraction, causing her to gasp in pain. The sound was covered up by the gasp of shock from Ginger, who had just seen someone she'd hoped never to see again, and by the gasp of horror from George Wickham, who had been heading out the door after the lengthy lecture he'd endured.
Elisabeth, hurting in more ways than one, pulled away from Darcy. This allowed Darcy to see his sister's reaction to seeing George Wickham for the first time in almost a year. What he saw there seemed to confirm every suspicion that had crawled into his mind.
"So it's true," Darcy said coldly. "George was the person who stole the money and then came back here...to Elisabeth. How long did it take you to figure out that he'd stolen it, El? How long did you know who I was? And how long did it take you to decide that you were going to get every dime you could out of me?"
"No!" Elisabeth cried out, but Darcy, blinded by rage, ignored her on his way out the door.
Elisabeth felt as though her entire body had turned to ice. She would later realize that this had been the first time her body hadn't warned her of impending trouble, but for the time being, she just felt so cold, so numb, that the pain of the last contraction faded away. She didn't know what exactly was going on, but someone had convinced Darcy that she had...that she'd done what? What money was she supposed to have stolen? Or known about stealing? Her mind wasn't clicking to the right answers.
She didn't notice when Charlie left her friends and forced her into a chair, or when a glass of water was placed into her hands. All she could think about was the fury on Darcy's face when he'd accused her of being with him for his money.
Why would he think that? she wondered. Why would he do this to me now? Didn't he see that I was in labor? What made him accuse me like that?
"ELISABETH!"
She blinked several times and stared at her cousin, who was looking at her with worried eyes. "Why did you scream at me?" she asked in a small, hurt voice.
"Because you looked like you were about to zone out on me forever," Charlie replied. "Are you all right?"
"No...no. Right now, I'd say I'm pretty far from okay. Charlie, what's going on? Why did Darcy say those things about me?"
"I'm not entirely sure," Charlie replied. "All I know is some smug-looking redhead came in here with that envelope, which he went through. I didn't hear much of their conversation."
"What did you hear?"
"I couldn't hear her, just him. He kept saying that she was lying and he wasn't going to believe anything she or Catherine said. I'm guessing she was someone he used to work with."
"Red hair, you said?" When Charlie nodded, Elisabeth continued. "Anne Ripley. He described her to me once. That's who it had to be." Elisabeth looked at the table where she'd been seated. The envelope's contents were strewn out all over the table. "Is this what he was looking at before I got back?"
"Yeah."
Elisabeth was about to pick up a sheet of paper and start investigating when she heard George say, "Hello, Ginny." Her attention was immediately diverted to the scene in front of them.
George's eyes traveled from Ginger's face down to her toes, giving her chest a good long look----as though he'd never seen it in his life----before returning to her face with a smile. Ginger's face turned scarlet. Before anyone could guess her intention, she punched him, knocking him back several steps. George nearly crashed into the video machine, managing to right himself before sprawling to the floor.
"You low-life thieving, lying bastard!" Ginger screamed, bringing conversation in the restaurant to a halt. "What did you tell Darcy that made him so angry?"
"I didn't say a word to him!" George howled.
"Then why did he accuse Elisabeth of being in cahoots with you? Isn't it bad enough that you managed to ruin my life, now you have to try and ruin my brother's? What's wrong with you?"
"I'm not the one with the problem here!" George yelled back. "You hit me, remember?"
"That seems to happen to you a lot," Charlie said sardonically. "I hit you back in March, Darcy hit you in June, and now Ginger's had a turn. Seems to me that all we need is for Elisabeth, Frances Price, and Marianne Brandon to give you a few good punches so that everyone who hates your guts has had their shot. Well, maybe not. That wouldn't be including the female customers who've complained about you making offensive and sexist jokes at the front counter or the other employees in Newton who think you're primeval slime."
"Do you mind?!" George shouted.
"Not at all----and I think this time, I'm sticking around for the whole show." Charlie smiled with false sweetness.
"You're lucky you got off with just one punch from me," Ginger snapped. "If Darcy had been thinking logically, which unfortunately he wasn't, he would've punched you----what, again? Why'd he hit him in June?"
"He was insulting Elisabeth," Charlie answered. "Stormed into a bowling alley and declared he wasn't the baby's father. Darcy got fed up and knocked him out."
"I was momentarily stunned," George said sullenly.
"It took a cup of ice water to get you to move an inch."
Ginger stared at him with cold eyes. "I should've known you were lying to me about being transferred to Chicago," she said angrily. "You lied about everything else."
"I can explain," George said hesitantly.
"Explain? How the hell do you intend to explain stealing fifty thousand dollars and then walking out? How do you explain letting me take the fall for it? For God's sake, George, I would've willingly borrowed the money out from someone if you'd needed it that desperately."
"I didn't think it would be missed."
Ginger laughed coldly. "If you didn't think it would be missed, you wouldn't have disappeared so suddenly. You knew exactly what you were doing when you stole that money. There's no explaining that away."
George had the good grace to look shamefaced. "You're right. I did a terrible thing and I'm sorry."
"Sorry you got caught, you mean," Elisabeth said in a low voice. "You're never sorry for anything if you think you can get away with it."
George gave her a furious look before turning his attention back to Ginger. "I didn't think anyone would be hurt by it. I swear to God, I didn't. When I...when you...that morning, when I did it, we were kidding around about being able to retire on the money you could access. I honestly didn't think anyone would miss a measly fifty thousand dollars."
"You're dumber than you look, then," Charlie muttered. George gave her the same look he'd given Elisabeth moments earlier. "Well, it's true. You don't think a place like De Bourgh Enterprises got where it did with sloppy accounting, did you?"
"And I told you that my aunt was keeping an eye on the whole project," Ginger added. "You knew that any slip-up would be disastrous for me."
"But you weren't the one who did it!" George protested. "Didn't you tell them that?"
"Of course I did! Once I realized that it had to have been you, I told them everything, or almost everything. For some reason, I still felt the need to protect you so I didn't tell anyone who you were. But it was still my fault in the end. You had access to the account because of me, because I was arranging for you to have a small loan. Tell me, George, did you intend to steal the money all along or..."
"No. I didn't plan to do it until you left the room to answer the phone and I got to thinking about what we'd talked about. That's when the temptation became too great and I just had to do it. And then I left."
"If you didn't think they'd miss the money, why did you leave?" Charlie asked.
George refused to answer. Ginger took a couple steps toward him with her fists raised. George almost looked ready to cringe, but he did finally say, "Because I was afraid they might, and then I'd get in trouble, so I went."
"And you left me behind to take the blame." Ginger's eyes were tear-filled. "I loved you," she said brokenly. "I thought you loved me, and in the end you betrayed me."
"What happened to you?"
Ginger scoffed. "What do you care? You got your money."
"I do care," George said softly. "Please, tell me what happened to you, Ginny. Did you...she didn't have you arrested or anything, did she? You didn't do anything!"
Elisabeth frowned. If I didn't know better, I would think he actually cared about her, she thought.
Ginger's chin trembled. "She told me that she would've had me arrested but she knew it would upset my brother, so she was 'willing' to let it go for his sake. But she fired me, and then she swore that I would never get another job in advertising again. If it hadn't been for Dare..." She sniffled. "Dare risked everything to help me out, and in the end, she punished him for it."
"I'm sorry." George took a step toward her, then another.
"Don't you come any closer!" she shouted. "If you think I want any sympathy from you, you're mistaken. I'm glad you did it, do you hear me? You taught me a valuable lesson about trusting people. And if you hadn't done it, Dare wouldn't be...well, he was happy until today. I don't know what you did that set him off, but..."
"I didn't do anything to him! I swear to God! I don't know what he was talking about, but..."
"He's telling the truth on that one," Charlie said quietly. "Darcy probably didn't know he was here, or if he did, they didn't speak to each other. Darcy was talking to a woman with red hair before you got here. She gave him this." She motioned to the mess left behind on the table. "It looks like an investigator's report to me."
"Anne Ripley," Ginger spat. "I should've known Catherine wasn't giving up that easily. I just wonder how long it took her to put it all together. There wasn't any obvious connection between me, you, and...this thing here, especially since I never told anyone who he was."
"She must've dug pretty deep," Charlie commented. "But that doesn't explain why Darcy believes Elisabeth had anything to do with it. If we believe George----and I'm not saying we are, I'm saying 'if'----then stealing the money was almost an impulse. It means that Elisabeth had no way of knowing what he was going to do."
"I didn't care at the time," Elisabeth wailed. "We weren't dating then. We didn't date until a few months after he came back, after I got my own store. I don't understand it."
"Don't look at me," George said defensively when three pairs of eyes swung his way. "All I did was steal the money."
"Oh, that's priceless. You make that sound so innocent," Charlie said sarcastically. "'All I did was steal money. I didn't lie.' God."
"Did you know Darcy was my brother when he came here?" Ginger asked. "He didn't know who you were because I wouldn't tell him, but did you know who he was?"
"I didn't. Not until recently. All I knew about him was what I'd been told----what he told me himself. He said he'd been fired from his other job in New York and had to work at Planet Earth Pizza. I didn't know he was your brother until I saw the two of you together."
"Oh, please. You had to have known. Williamson isn't your usual last name, and I talked about him all the time. Don't even try to tell me you had no clue until recently. And when would you have seen us together?"
"When you came to town in August," Elisabeth answered before George could. "I wondered why you looked so shocked to see Ginger and Darcy hugging each other, but other things came up and I put it out of my mind."
"You mean George was actually telling the truth again? Damn, that's got to be a record. Two truths in one day." Charlie smiled at George's glare.
"You only referred to him as Dare," George said. "I never asked you if it was a nickname or what it was for, and there are millions of people in New York City. There are probably thousands of Williamsons in the phone book. I couldn't very well ask him if he was your brother even if it had occurred to me, now could I?"
"We look like each other."
"I never saw you in him. But then, I hardly ever saw him." George crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm not sure why you're so obsessed with how long I knew he was your brother. I thought we'd established that I didn't do anything to make him yell at Elisabeth."
Just then, Elisabeth had another contraction. She gripped the table and willed herself not to make a sound. She knew Ginger needed to have this moment, to confront George and work past the guilt she still carried about the incident. After about a minute, the pain had finally gone. Elisabeth checked her watch with a small frown. Six minutes that time. They'd been holding steady at eight for the past forty minutes.
"Maybe we did, and maybe we didn't. Maybe I'd just like to know because Elisabeth told me earlier that you were trying to get some money in exchange for letting Darcy adopt the baby."
"Well, if I wanted money from him, ticking him off like that was hardly the way to go about it, was it? If he tosses Elisabeth aside because he thinks she had something to do with what I did, he's not going to be adopting her child, now is he?"
"So you're admitting you tried to get some money in exchange..."
"Yes, I did! Sue me!"
"Don't tempt me."
"Ginny..."
"Would you stop calling me that? My name is Ginger. You got that? Gin-ger."
"I loved you, Gin...Ginger. Truly, I did. And I made a terrible mistake. I knew it when I did it."
"Didn't stop you, though, did it?"
George turned red. "No, and I'm sorry for that. But I want you to know that I loved you. You can believe that. I did."
"Which is, of course, why he said everyone in New York hated him and treated him badly," Elisabeth said.
"Stay out of this!" George hissed.
"Too late. I'm already involved up to my neck. I just want to be sure Ginger doesn't buy your sob story the way I did."
"There's no need to worry about that," Ginger assured her. "He used to tell me how bad he had it here. It was why you were being transferred to Chicago, remember?"
"I was supposed to be transferred to Chicago!" George snapped. "But the shooting of the commercials took so long that they got someone else instead. That was hardly my fault. Then Elisabeth couldn't handle Newton, so they sent me there instead. Again, not my fault."
"Like it wasn't your fault you stole the money. It was just too tempting, isn't that right?"
George didn't say anything.
"Would you forgive me, Ginger? Please? I meant everything I said. I loved you. I still love you, but I understand that things wouldn't...work out so we could be together."
"Do you want me forgive you because you're genuinely sorry for what you did, or because you're afraid I'll rat you out to my aunt and have you arrested for embezzlement?"
There was a flash of fear in George's eyes, but also a hint of sadness. The fear, however, won out.
"She would hardly want to dredge that up again, so why should I worry about being arrested?" George was bluffing.
"You're right. She's not going to bring it up again, because it makes her look bad. It's another of those reasons she didn't have me arrested. I might've been a screw-up, but I was still a family member and it would've created bad press if I'd been convicted of stealing from her. She told me the day she fired me that it was the last time the Darcy family was going to be my protection." Ginger paused. "So I'm thinking there might be another way to prove that your apology is sincere."
"What would that be? I'll get on my knees if you want. I'll do anything if you'd say you'd forgive me."
"I want you to give back the money."
George faltered. "What?"
"You heard me, George. You can't actually give the ad agency the money back, and I sure as hell don't want it. But you could donate it to charity. That would be a nice thing to do."
"I...I can't do that. I don't have it all."
"Surely you didn't spend fifty thousand dollars in one year. I mean, if the guilt of what you'd done has been weighing on you all this time, I doubt you spent more than a thousand bucks or so. Maybe not even that."
"Uh...well...I did spend some of it. I don't have it all, but I do have...more than half. I think. But...but..."
Ginger just stared at him. Then she smiled. "Or maybe you could...I don't know. Set up a little trust fund for Elisabeth's baby? It would be a nice gift from her true father. Although I don't know that I'd want her to have ill-gotten gains, so never mind that one. But surely you could find something to do with twenty-five thousand dollars."
"He already has, from the sound of it," Charlie said.
"Ginger...I..."
"George, don't say anything else. It's too late. Your words now are as sincere as they were then. The only difference is, I know better this time. The money is yours to keep, because there's no way to make you give it back and because I feel the same way about what happened as I did before I walked in here today. It's history, and I'm over it. Or I'm almost over it. I would suggest that you get out of here before I give in to the urge to punch you again, though."
George fled, taking off in the red truck that Elisabeth knew he almost had paid off. Now that she knew how he'd gotten the money, it made her almost nauseous to think about the fact that they'd once had sex in it.
Ginger collapsed into a chair. She was still trembling in anger and her hands were still clenched. "I'm going to go crazy," she said softly. "If I don't hit something, and hit it hard, I'm going to lose control."
"We need a punching bag," Charlie replied. "I've always thought we needed some sort of stress reliever, especially when dealing with slimeballs and ex-boyfriends. George is one of those rare men who fits both descriptions for you both."
"I'd say he's one in three billion," Elisabeth murmured. She looked over at Ginger, who still had murder in her eyes. "Ginger...are you all right?"
Ginger shook her head violently. Charlie stood up and suggested, "How about a trip to our freezer? It's outside, it's very cold, and if you feel the need to scream or take out your frustration on a box of cheese, no one will notice."
Ginger looked at Charlie with doubtful eyes. Charlie smiled and said, "Come on. This'll help, trust me. I know what I'm doing. You have to vent anger or it'll come back to haunt you." She waited until Ginger stood up before moving again. The two women went outside, presumably to scream their heads off. Elisabeth momentarily wondered if she should warn Ginger about how loud Charlie could scream before she decided that Ginger could hold her own in a screaming match. She'd done well enough just a little while ago.
Lovely. Your fiancé just found out that your baby was fathered by his sister's ex, the same ex who got her fired from her job and oh, by the way, just happened to steal fifty thousand dollars on his way out of her life. He accused you of being in cahoots with the guy before running off to places unknown, you know damn good and well that you're in labor even if your water hasn't broken, and you're making jokes instead of getting to the hospital.
Elisabeth decided to see if she could figure out what had convinced Darcy of her guilt. She read through the investigator's reports, frowning as she realized that it did look damning that she'd picked him up at the train station. But the bozo of an investigator had asked the wrong person about the incident. Anne Carter happened to be Lucy Steele's sister, and when she'd been working at Planet Earth Pizza along with Lucy, Louisa, and Caroline, she'd been the fourth Gossip Sister.
If the moron had bothered to ask Sean about it, he would've found out that Elisabeth had picked George up as a favor to him. And the reason she'd been gone for two days after that was because when she'd gotten home, she'd found a message on her machine telling her that her cousin Matt Philips, who had been in an irreversible coma since his accident the year before, had gotten pneumonia and was dying. He'd already passed away by the time she'd arrived in Springfield, so she'd stayed for the funeral.
Anne had known that, of course, but Elisabeth had a feeling the investigator had asked her leading questions set up to make Elisabeth's relationship with George sound worse than it had been at the time. Elisabeth didn't know what George was doing, but it sure as hell hadn't been anything with her.
Elisabeth picked up a piece of paper that looked to be a printout of someone's phone bill. Glancing through it, she found five phone numbers highlighted. Two were the store's, one was Sean's, and the other two were her own, including the one from the day he'd left town. She frowned, trying to remember what George had called her for. The day he'd left New York, he'd called her house to tell her when his train would be arriving. But the other one...why had he called her then? It looked to be less than a minute long and had come the week before he'd left. He must've gotten the machine and not bothered to leave a message, because she didn't have a clue as to what he might've called her about.
There was nothing she could see in these reports that would've made her believe that she had anything to do with George's plan. She didn't understand why Darcy had done so. In fact, now that she'd had time to look over the so-called evidence of her guilt, she was starting to feel a little angry and hurt that he had believed any of this garbage. Why hadn't he asked her about any of it? Why had he just assumed...
That was a damn good question. Why had he suddenly decided she was guilty? She replayed the first few minutes of her arrival over in her head. Darcy had been demanding answers to questions which had puzzled her, but he'd stopped asking when George had appeared. Or rather, when Ginger had reacted to George's appearance.
But that doesn't make any sense.
Ginger and Charlie walked back into the store, cheeks reddened but looking somewhat happier than they had before they'd left. Elisabeth stood up awkwardly.
"Enjoy your.." Whatever Elisabeth intended to say was forgotten at a sudden sharp pain, followed by the feeling of something trickling down her legs. At first, she thought she'd had an accident and her face started to get red. But the realization of what had to have happened hit her at the same time she cried out in pain.
"Elisabeth!" Charlie shrieked, nearly mowing down a small child in her rush to get to Elisabeth's side. "Is it...are you...?"
Elisabeth nodded and bit her lip as the pain slowly started to recede. "I'm in labor," she whimpered.
"It's why we came to get Darcy," Ginger said. "She thinks she might've been in labor since this morning, but she's not sure. The contractions were about eight minutes apart when we left to come here. How far apart are they now, Elisabeth?"
"That one was...five, I think. Maybe six. And my water just broke."
"That much we could tell," Charlie said, starting to sound panicked. "Okay, uh...oh, God. I guess I'll have to take you to the hospital...you're preregistered, right?"
"Yeah." Elisabeth began to breathe a little easier.
"Good." Charlie turned to Ginger. "Are you familiar with answering machines?"
"Uh...why?"
"Because I want you go to my apartment----I'm directly downstairs from Darcy----and change the message on my machine. That way, if he calls, he'll know that Elisabeth's in labor and he needs to get to the hospital. Leave a note on his door and my door. Charlie wrenched a key off of her key ring. "Don't lose this, okay? There's nothing hard about changing the message on the machine."
"I'll be fine," Ginger said. "Do you want me to come to the hospital when I'm through?"
Charlie nodded. "Just in case."
"In case of what?" Elisabeth asked, still holding her stomach. The contraction had ended, but the memory of that pain hadn't gone away.
"In case we're in the delivery room when Darcy shows up. She can point him to where he needs to go. Unless you changed your mind about me being your back-up Lamaze coach."
"No, I haven't, but right now I don't know if I want him there. Not after this."
"Of course you want him there. This is just a misunderstanding that the two of you are going to work out. Don't make me lock you two in the basement of my house."
"That threat doesn't hold water with me. You were the first one to break when we put Chazz and Jenna down there."
"No, I wasn't!"
"Yes, you were."
"Are you two going to fight about this now, or are we going to get her to the hospital?" Ginger asked.
"Right. He'll be there. He told me he would. He promised me he would."
"I hope you're right," Ginger said in a quiet voice, not sounding sure of that at all.