Jump to new as of January 23, 2004
Posted on Thursday, 13 November 2003
Will Darcy slid into his window seat, took a thick report and a blue fountain pen from his briefcase, and neatly stowed the case under the seat in front of him. Habitually early, he was one of the first ones on the plane. He opened the report, intending to review it and make some notes for his meeting on Monday. After staring at the first page for several minutes without seeing it, he sighed deeply. Closing the report again, he tapped his pen absent-mindedly against his thigh. It was no use trying to concentrate on work today. No matter what he tried to think about, his mind kept coming back to the same topic that had kept him preoccupied for the last ten days.
He was going to propose. On Sunday, when he returned from San Francisco to New York, he would be an engaged man. The prospect should fill him with joy, he thought, or at least contentment. Instead, he just felt apprehensive. This is the right thing to do, he told himself for perhaps the millionth time. She will be a good wife. Sure, we're not that much alike, but opposites attract, right? For one thing, she actually enjoys social situations that just make me uneasy. But that's a plus. After all, in my position, I have to attend endless receptions, cocktail parties, and charity casino nights. Also, she will support my career. And perhaps most importantly, together, we can provide Georgiana with a family again.
He pulled out a slightly tattered photograph. She looked beautiful, perfect in her slinky black cocktail dress. The picture had been taken on their first real date - a charity ball. He hadn't wanted to go, he remembered. It was just three months after his father's sudden death from a heart attack. But she had insisted and he had been glad afterwards. He didn't enjoy himself exactly, but he saw a lot of his father's friends and it cheered him somehow to know that all of these people were missing his father too.
A crash startled him from his reverie. He looked up to see a petite woman in a tailored navy suit attempting to shove an enormous roller bag into the overhead compartment. "Oof," she said with a mock grimace. "I wonder who put those cement blocks in my bag."
He said nothing. He just stared at her with a look of dismay. Just my luck, he thought. She'll probably try to talk to me for five hours straight. And really, if she can't lift her bag, she should just check it instead of bringing on the maximum number of carry-ons. He reopened his report resolutely. Even if his concentration was lacking, maybe his serious appearance would discourage conversation.
"You're probably wondering why I didn't just check this bag, since it obviously barely fits in the overhead." He was glad that she was preoccupied with her suitcase so that she missed his look of open-mouthed surprise. Can she read my mind? he wondered. Although he did not respond, as she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder, she continued, "Well, believe me, I would have if I didn't think I would miss this flight. Everything that could possibly go wrong today has gone wrong. My meeting ran late, I had trouble catching a cab, the line at security was a mile long, and the line to check bags was two miles long." With one final shove, she pushed her bag into the overhead.
She pulled some papers from her laptop bag, kicked it and her purse under the seat in front of her, and collapsed gratefully into her own seat. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Cranky, as she had mentally dubbed him, had left a picture lying on the armrest between their seats. In it was the man himself, dressed in a tux. Mmm, she mused, delicious. I love a man in formal wear. A smile wouldn't hurt, though. He looks almost pained, as if he would rather be anywhere else. On his arm, wearing a smile that somehow managed to look supercilious and smug at the same time, was a stunning blonde in a barely-there black dress that exposed more than it concealed of her long legs and voluptuous chest.
"Your girlfriend?" she asked, holding up the photo.
"Yes," he answered curtly, as he snatched it from her hand and put it back in his pocket.
"She's beautiful," she said. If you go for that type, she added to herself. Which he probably does since he's with her. I wonder if he paid for those implants?
"Yes," he said again with a glower meant to discourage further conversation.
She was not deterred. "It's too bad she couldn't come with you this weekend."
He did not reply.
"So, what takes you to San Francisco?" she asked. Because you can't be from California, she thought. You're just too stuffy and uptight-looking. Not to mention grouchy.
What did I do to deserve this? he wondered. He turned and studied her. She looked professional and business-like. She can't be from New York, though, he thought. She's too disorganized, too frazzled, too nutty. No self-respecting New Yorker would chatter away to a perfect stranger, especially one who clearly didn't want to be bothered.
She was still looking at him expectantly, and he realized she had asked him a question. As little as he wanted to converse, he thought it would be rude to ignore her. "I'm meeting my girlfriend there for the weekend. She's living in L.A. right now."
"Oh, is your girlfriend an actress?"
His gaping jaw must have been answer enough because she laughed. "Lucky guess," she said with a wink. Then, she turned and rummaged through her purse for her mobile. She made a call and started chatting and laughing with the person on the other end.
"Yes, I would," she was saying. "We're about to push back from the gate here and I'm going to have to turn off the phone... Jay-Jay! I'm glad I caught you.... Yes, I'm finally on my way home. Thank goodness I made it... I'll tell you later. Kiss Jasper for me. And kiss Charles... Have a great time!"
She ended the call and noticed that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Glowering was staring at her. I wonder what I've done now to earn his disapproval, she thought to herself. I suppose my one-sided conversation must have sounded a little strange. Aloud she said, "I imagine I can guess your thoughts."
"I should think not," he said with some alarm. He felt the tops of his ears turning red. The woman had shown an uncanny ability to read his thoughts thus far, but she couldn't possibly know that he was thinking about taking her hair out of its French twist and kissing her senseless.
"You're probably thinking I must live in some sort of hippie, free love commune," she said cheekily.
"Er, um," he stammered. Think, Will, he chided himself. And not about free love! She's teasing, so tease her back. You know, flirtatious banter. You haven't forgotten how, have you? "I guess you're wearing a Flower Power t-shirt under that corporate disguise," he said finally with one eyebrow raised.
She laughed again and the sound lifted his mood another notch. "No, actually, it's stuffed in my carry-on."
"So, is J.J. your boyfriend?" he asked.
"What?" she said. "Oh no, that's my pet name for my sister Jane. And before you ask, Charles is her boyfriend, and Jasper is my cat. Jane was looking after him while I was away - but she just feeds him, she doesn't really talk to him. Jane and I share a house - at least until she moves in with Charles next month. Then it'll just be me and Jasper."
"Oh," he said.
"So," she returned, "if you weren't thinking about my scandalous living arrangements, what were you thinking about?"
"Um, well," he stammered again. "I - I was looking at your phone." It wasn't the whole truth, but it wasn't a lie either. He had noticed her phone. It was a Pemberley GT 1000, a combination cell phone, PDA, and pager, and the first product shipped by his company, Pemberley, Inc. Even though that model had been on the market for almost three years, he still got a little thrill from seeing real people using them, in the wild, so to speak.
He and his father had founded the company after he finished his MBA. His father, who had spent his career at AT&T, wanted to try his hand at a start-up. They had worked long days, but it had been exciting and fun. For the first time since his mother died, his father seemed to be his old, energetic self. He was glad that his father had lived to see the launch of the GT 1000 and sorry that he had not been there for the initial public offering.
That milestone had just been reached last week, in fact. He remembered when he and his father had first filed paperwork with the SEC. His father had opened a bottle of champagne and even let Georgie have a small sip. But the timing had not been good. Before they could take the company public, the market took a turn for the worse and technology and telecom stocks were particularly hard hit. Then, his father died, leaving him with a struggling company and a high school-aged sister to care for.
It had been a hard couple of years. He had worked non-stop, particularly in the past few months. But things were looking up. Georgie had graduated from high school and was now in Europe with her cousin Anne. He had successfully taken the company public. And he was going to get married. This last thought brought him down to earth again.
"Oh," she said happily, oblivious to the serious turn of his thoughts. "You noticed my Pembie."
"Your Pembie? Is that what you call it?"
"Yes, well it's full name is the Pemberley GT 1000," she said holding it out for his inspection.
"Yes, I know," he said. "I have a GT 3000."
"A 3000! Really? Some of my friends at work have a 2000. I was an early adopter, though, so I've been waiting for the 3000 before I upgraded. I've read about them, but I didn't even know they were out yet. Can I see?"
He smiled at her enthusiasm. Taking his phone from his inside jacket pocket, he handed it to her. "This is a beta version. They don't officially ship until next month."
"Oooh! It's so little!" she exclaimed. She examined it carefully like a child looking at a Christmas present. Then, she started peppering him with questions about its features. There was nothing he liked better than talking about his company's latest product and so he gladly answered all of them and more. Soon, they were deep in discussion, their heads bent together over the device.
"Well, Mr. Whatever-Your-Name-Is," she said finally. "I'll give you one thing. You sure know your Pembies."
He grinned at that. "Will Darcy."
Wow, she thought. He should smile like that more often. He's handsome when he's doing the brooding, Heathcliff thing, but when he smiles, he's devastating.
"Lizzie Bennet," she replied, shaking the hand he offered.
"A pleasure to meet you," he said.
Posted on Thursday, 20 November 2003
"A pleasure to meet you," he said.
"Likewise," she returned. "But now you really have to quit distracting me so I can get some work done. If I don't get this thing finished by the time we get to San Francisco, I'll have to go into the office on Sunday and I am so not in the mood for that."
He sputtered until he saw the teasing glint in her eye and then he chuckled softly. "Well, I would feel more guilty except that it appears that you still have the whole flight ahead of you - we're not any closer to California than when we started talking."
"Oh my," she said looking at her watch. "You're right - we've been sitting on the runway for almost an hour. I wonder what's going on?"
I don't know, he thought. Nor do I care very much. I can't remember when I've spent a more enjoyable hour.
"What are you working on?" he asked, waving his hand towards the papers in her lap.
"It's a summary judgment brief," she responded. "It doesn't have to be filed until Thursday, but I need to have a draft done on Monday so that I can get comments from my boss and my client."
"You're a lawyer?" he asked.
"Yes," she said. "How about you? What are you reading there?"
"A report I need to read for a big meeting on Monday. I work for Pemberley." He turned over the first page of his report so she could see the title - GT 3000 Marketing Strategy. He shrugged and gave her a slightly sheepish smile.
"Aha," she said with a smile. "I should have guessed."
They worked in companionable silence until they were interrupted by an announcement from the flight attendant. It seemed there was a mechanical problem and they would have to go back to the gate and change planes.
Oh no, Lizzie groaned to herself. Just when I thought my day was looking up. Unfortunately, when they got off the plane, they were greeted with more bad news. The plane that was supposed to take them to San Francisco was still in Chicago.
"I can't believe it," Lizzie said. "Another three hours until we even take off."
"Do you want to go to the bar?" Will asked. He was standing behind her as she looked at the monitors. He had insisted on getting her bag out of the overhead for her and was still carrying it.
"Oh sorry," she said when she realized he was still holding her carry-on. "Let me take that."
"It's all right," he said.
"You don't have to carry it - it rolls," she said, taking it from him and pulling up its handle.
"So, how about that drink?" he asked again.
She considered her unwritten brief for a minute. Then, she thought about how hard she had been working for the last couple of weeks in New York. You deserve a treat, she told herself. "You're on," she said to him. "I'll meet you there. I just want to change into something more comfortable. Order me a Gibson, please." And she flashed him smile and headed for the ladies' room.
He smiled back at her retreating figure. She's a dynamo, he thought. I can't believe she doesn't have a boyfriend.
The bartender was just bringing their drinks when she arrived. In her capri pants and flowered (yes, flowered!) shirt and sandals, she looked totally different. She had taken her hair down too, and it was falling in waves halfway down her back.
"Whew, I'm glad to change out of that suit." She took her drink and handed the bartender a twenty.
"No," he said. "Please let me get this."
"Fraid not," she said playfully. "I have a rule against accepting drinks from handsome strangers - especially ones with girlfriends."
She thinks I'm handsome, was his first thought. Oh no, girlfriend, was his second. "Well, thanks. Here's to making it to San Francisco eventually," he said.
"I'll drink to that," she replied and they clinked glasses.
"If you'll excuse me, I've just realized that I should call my girlfriend and let her know that I'm going to be late. Because of the time difference, I may be able to catch her before she leaves for the airport."
"Of course," she said. "Go ahead. I'd like to see that Pembie of yours in action."
Lizzie sipped her drink and turned to watch CNN on the TV behind the bar. She couldn't help overhearing his conversation, though. She couldn't hear his girlfriend's side of it, of course, but she could hear the occasional shrill squawks from the other end and she could see Will's face take on a grim cast as he struggled to keep his temper.
"Caroline," he said. "...No, I'm at JFK... Yes, I was on the 5 p.m. flight but it's been delayed... 9:10 p.m.... I'm sorry... Yes, I know... Well, I really didn't have any control over that, did I?... No, Caroline, you know that's not possible... If this weekend is not good for you, just tell me and we'll reschedule... Caroline, just tell me what you want me to say.... All right... No, I said all right... Yes... Yes, me too. See you tomorrow."
He hung up the phone and sighed deeply. Then he knocked back half of his Scotch. Finally, he turned to Lizzie with an apologetic lift of the eyebrow. "Caroline's going to change her flight and come up to meet me tomorrow. She wasn't too happy to miss some big party just to sit in an empty hotel room."
"Boy," Lizzie said. "You're ten times more patient and understanding than I am. I wouldn't be able to put up with that everyday."
She regretted her words as soon as they were out of her mouth. He looked positively stricken. When will I learn to hold my tongue, she scolded herself. Jane is always telling me I need to be less judgmental. His relationship with this Caroline is his own business and he doesn't need my criticism.
"Will," she said. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm sure she's just disappointed by the delay - that's natural. I'm sure I would have been worse in her place - I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, no, it's all right," he said. He stared moodily at the ice in his glass and didn't say anything else.
"No thanks," he replied.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"It?"
"Whatever's got you looking so gloomy all of a sudden."
He mentally shook himself. "No, I'm fine." He knew he should change the subject, find something to talk about, but he couldn't think of anything. Her words had brought back all of his earlier worries. Can I put up with Caroline everyday? Is she The One?
He didn't realize that his thoughts had wandered until he felt her gently kicking his calf. "Come on," she said softly. "You look like you need someone to talk to. We've got three hours to kill. I'm here, willing to lend a sympathetic ear - and we'll probably never see each other again after tonight." She didn't know why she felt a little pang as she uttered those words.
"All right," he said with a rueful smile. He squared his shoulders and seemed to search for the right place to begin. "You see, I wanted this weekend to be perfect. Caroline moved to L.A. about six months ago and I've barely seen her since then. I've been so busy at work the last few months, I've hardly had any free time. You may have heard that Pemberley went public last week."
She nodded. "Well," he continued, but he was interrupted by her gasp.
Lizzie had just realized who she'd been talking to for the last hour. "You must think I'm an idiot - an oblivious idiot," she said, shaking her head.
"No," he answered with a puzzled expression.
"You're Fitzwilliam Darcy III, the 31-year-old CEO of the hottest technology company of 2003 according to the issue of TIME Magazine that I have in my laptop bag."
He grinned at her and rolled his eyes. "I'll be 32 tomorrow."
"I can't believe I offered to show you my Pembie," she groaned.
"Don't be embarrassed," he said. "I guess I should have told you it was my company, but I don't get the chance to talk to customers much - particularly not when they're not just trying to flatter me. Your genuine enthusiasm meant a lot to me. And you gave me about five good ideas for the GT 3500."
"OK," she said with a smile. "I'm sorry I got us sidetracked. So, having reached the pinnacle of career success at the tender age of almost 32, you had planned the perfect celebration weekend in San Francisco when mechanical failures intervened. Other than the fact that you're stuck in an airport bar with yours truly instead of swigging cocktails in the Tonga Room at the Fairmont with your stunning actress girlfriend, what seems to be the trouble?"
"How did you know we were staying at the Fairmont Hotel?" he asked. "You're uncanny, you know."
"Lucky guess," she said. "Seriously, though. You seem like you have something bigger on your mind than a few hours of travel delay."
Will hadn't really intended to tell his troubles to this woman, but suddenly he couldn't think why not. "If you've read the article in TIME, you'll know that I lost my father about two and a half years ago."
"Yes, I'm sorry," she replied.
"Thanks," he said. "Lately I've been worrying about something he said to me once. It was the night of my cousin Richard's wedding. The reception was winding down and my father and I were sitting by ourselves at a table in the corner. I was kind of thrown by the idea of Richard getting married. You see, we were very close growing up, almost like brothers. And even though he was a few years older, everyone in the family would always laugh and say what a heartbreaker Richard was and how I would probably get married and settle down before he did. And then, there I was, 28 years old, not even dating anyone seriously, and Richard had a wife."
"Hmm. That must have been weird," she said. "So what did your dad say?"
"He told me not to worry. He said that I'd meet the right woman for me someday, and when I did, I would just know. He told me that when Darcy men fall in love, they fall hard and fast. I'd never heard the story of how he met my mother, but he told me that both he and his father had proposed after knowing their wives less than a day."
"Wow," she said. "And did they say yes after knowing these crazy Darcy men for less than a day?"
He laughed. "You know, I didn't think to ask. But they certainly said yes eventually, and they stayed together. It's my dream to have a marriage like theirs."
"So you're worried because you've been dating Caroline for 36 hours already and you're not sure yet," she teased.
"Two years," he said. "But yeah, something like that. It wasn't that way for me and Caroline - the way it was with my parents. I mean, I feel like I've decided to marry her. I didn't just know she was The One."
"Well, maybe you take after some uncle on your mother's side of the family," she suggested.
He laughed. "Maybe you're right."
Posted on Wednesday, 26 November 2003
"What did you mean when you said you've decided?" she asked. "Are you - ?"
"Yes, I was planning - am planning - to propose this weekend."
"Oh," she said. That was not what she was expecting him to say. She couldn't think what to say in response so she blurted out the first question that came into her head. "Do you have a ring?"
"Yes, um, no, uh, yes, but I've decided not to give it to her," he stammered.
"Now I'm really confused," she chuckled.
"Yes, I can see why," he said with an answering grin. "I have a heirloom ring that's been in my family for over 200 years. It's special to me for that reason, but it's not a typical engagement ring. I'm pretty sure it's not Caroline's idea of an engagement ring. She wants-"
"Something that would make Kobe Bryant's wife jealous?" Lizzie teased.
"Are you sure you've never met Caroline?" he teased back before continuing in a more serious tone. "I considered asking Caroline to wear it just until we could pick out something together, but somehow that seems wrong. So, now I'm thinking I'll save it for the next generation."
If you ask me, Caroline is the one who seems wrong - wrong for you, she thought to herself. What are you thinking to marry this creature? Aloud she said, "That's thoughtful of you to want her to have what she really wants in a ring. Tell me more about this woman you're going to marry. How did you two meet?"
So while they waited for their flight, he talked and she listened. Lizzie prided herself on her ability to read people and judge characters. It didn't take her long to conclude that Caroline was a vain, shallow, selfish woman who didn't really care for Will, and that Will was a kind, honorable, shy man who had somehow talked himself into being with Caroline against his better judgment. Of course, Will never said a critical word about her. He didn't have to, as far as Lizzie was concerned. Every story he told - from their first date on - only confirmed her first impression.
Will looked down at his watch and realized that they'd been sitting in the bar for over two hours. He didn't think he'd talked about personal matters for this long to anyone since his father died. You need more friends, he told himself. Friends like Lizzie - You never talk to Caroline like this, a little voice in his head added.
"Shall we go check on our flight?" he asked. She nodded and they made their way back to the gate. But when they got there, they found that their flight had been cancelled. Worse yet, all of the rest of the flights to San Francisco were sold out. The airline offered to put them on the stand-by list and to reserve seats for them on the first flight out the next day.
"Maybe this is Fate's way of telling me that I'm not meant to go to San Francisco," Will said. Or that I'm not meant to propose to Caroline, that pesky little voice in his head piped up again.
"If that's what Fate's trying to tell me, I'm not listening," Lizzie responded emphatically. "I've been stuck in New York for two weeks and I'm determined to get home tonight. Besides, Jane's leaving for a two-week trip to Hawaii with Charles tomorrow and I want to see her before she goes."
He just shrugged and followed her to the Customer Service line. They found out that there were two seats together on the next flight to O'Hare and that from there they could get a flight to SFO. Two seats together sounded like a clear enough message from Fate to Will, so he picked up Lizzie's carry-on and they raced to the other end of terminal and just made the Chicago flight.
He stowed her bag and they collapsed into their seats panting and laughing. Almost immediately, the plane pushed back from the gate. "I've never cut it that close before," he said.
"Really?" she asked. "With all the traveling you must do? I have to run for it about half the times I fly."
This exchange led to a conversation about their contrasting personalities. They discovered that they were opposites in several respects. Will was punctual, a neat freak, and a deliberate person. Lizzie, on the other hand, was chronically late, cluttered, and spontaneous. Well, they say opposites attract, he thought, and then wondered where that thought came from.
From there, their conversation was wide-ranging. On the three hour flight, they covered everything from favorite Saturday morning cartoons from their childhood (where they agreed on everything) to politics (where they didn't agree on anything) to favorite foods (where they were at least able to compromise on chocolate mousse).
Everything seemed to be going well as the plane began its descent into Chicago. Then, the pilot announced that they had not been cleared to land and would have to circle the airport. "I knew this was too good to be true," Will grimaced.
"Don't jinx us," Lizzie warned. "If we land in twenty minutes and then run, we could still make our connection."
But as luck would have it, it was closer to thirty minutes later that they touched down. Without a word, they sprinted together through the airport, but when they got to their gate, the plane to San Francisco had already pulled out.
They exchanged a look and Will shrugged. "We'll take it!" Lizzie cried. They grabbed their tickets and took off at a jog.
"I don't think we need to run this time," he said.
"Now I'm just trying to get you in shape," she shot back.
"Ha," he said and then decided to save his breath to keep up with her.
When they got to the gate, their flight was boarding, so they got straight on, pleased to see that they were seated together.
"Do you think there's any chance that our luggage will make it?" Will asked.
"It seems unlikely, doesn't it," Lizzie replied. "It doesn't matter to me, of course. I didn't check anything, remember? You, on the other hand, may have to hit the Union Square shops before your big night."
My big night, the thought hit him like a ton of bricks. I've been having fun tonight, he realized, and I haven't given a thought to Caroline or my plan to propose. Desperate not to sink back into his gloomy reflections, he suggested that they attempt the crossword in the in-flight magazine. She happily agreed and pulled a pen from her laptop bag.
They arrived in Denver without incident and made their way to their flight to Sacramento. "Where is Sacramento, anyway?" he asked.
"It's about 100 miles from San Francisco - we'll have to rent a car," she answered.
"I figured," he said. "It's OK, I was going to rent one anyway for the weekend."
"You were?" she asked. "Have you ever driven in San Francisco?"
"Yes, I've been there before," he said. "Anyway, I learned to drive in New York City."
"All right," she said. "On this flight, I really need to work on my brief."
"And I need to work on my report, so don't talk to me," he replied.
"Don't you talk to me," she replied.
"I won't if you don't," he said, laughing.
For the first hour of the flight, they worked side-by-side. And they managed not to talk - much. But then, Lizzie started getting sleepy. She yawned, which made Will yawn, which made her yawn again.
"Stop that," she said crossly.
"Tired?" he asked.
"Mmm hmmm," she murmured.
"I guess it's almost 3 a.m. on the time we got up on," he mused.
She said nothing. He looked over and she had dozed off, slumped against his shoulder. He put his arm around her and tried to ease her into a more comfortable position. She is beautiful, was his last thought before he drifted off to sleep as well.
When they landed in Sacramento, Will came awake with a start, but Lizzie was still out like a light. He coaxed her off the plane and she sleepwalked her way down to the baggage claim area. There, he deposited her on a bench and went to claim his luggage - which miraculously had followed his circuitous route. Then, he collected Lizzie again and dragged her to the rental car place. While he filled out the paperwork, she put her head down on the counter and made sleepy little noises.
"All right, Lizzie," he said as he guided her into the passenger seat. "You have to wake up and give me directions."
"Mmpfth," was her only reply.
He turned on the radio and rolled down the window to let in the cool night air but still she did not wake up. "Here we are at the exit," he said. "I guess I'll just get on Highway 5 North."
Lizzie opened one eye and glared at him with it. "All right, I'm awake now," she grumbled. "Take 5 South to 80 West."
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too," he smiled.
"How can you be so chipper in the middle of the night?" she asked.
He just shrugged. "But I could get sleepy at any time. You'd better talk to me to keep me awake."
"What should we talk about? A soothing lullaby? A soft pillow? A comfortable bed?" she asked teasingly. "Or will that just make you sleepy."
Actually picturing Lizzie in bed was not likely to make him think of sleeping, but he could not very well admit that. He chuckled softly, glad for the darkness that kept her from reading his true thoughts in his expression.
"Maybe we should play a game," she suggested.
"Like what?" he asked.
"How about - In-N-Out!" she shrieked. "Take this exit! Will, on the right! Here!"
"OK, OK," he said, smoothly changing lanes and getting off the highway. "I didn't need that eardrum anyway."
"Very funny," she said.
"Where to now?" he asked.
"In-N-Out, like I said."
"What's that?" he asked.
"You've never been to an In-N-Out? You poor thing," she replied and she pointed to a fast food restaurant on the right side of the road.
He pulled into the parking lot and turned to her with a skeptical expression. "I wasn't aware that I had lived such a deprived existence, but I have never had the pleasure."
"Come on," she said. "This is where we would always stop on road trips when Jane and I were kids."
Will didn't think he was hungry, but he let himself get talked into having a burger, fries, and a chocolate shake. She insisted on treating him since he was paying for the rental car. Lizzie only got a burger, but she helped herself to half his fries and at least half of his shake. When he accused her of convincing him to order them just so she could have some, she just grinned and batted her eyelashes at him.
He felt his heart give a little corresponding flutter. What is happening to me, he asked himself as he watched Lizzie swipe another fry. This is not my type of place - I haven't set foot in a restaurant in years that didn't have white tablecloths and an extensive wine list. But this is kind of fun for a change.
"Hey, Will," she said, interrupting his reverie.
"What?" he replied.
"Happy birthday!"
He looked at his watch and noticed that it was in fact well after midnight. She remembered, he thought with a warm glow.
Posted on Wednesday, 3 December 2003
When they got back on the highway, Lizzie was bubbling with energy. She kept Will entertained with games that she and Jane had played in the car when they were kids – they played I-Spy, Stinky Pinky, and Twenty Questions. When she ran out of games, she taught him silly songs and made him sing them at the top of his lungs.
“You seem to have gotten your second wind,” he laughed.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I’m on a chocolate shake high.” She looked over at him with a huge smile on her face.
“What are you smiling about now?” he asked.
“I was just thinking that when I first saw you on the plane, I wouldn’t have pictured you with chocolate on your face, singing rounds.”
“I have chocolate on my face?” he asked rubbing his chin with some alarm.
“Just a little,” she said. “I’ll get it.” She reached over then and rubbed her thumb against the corner of his lips. He resisted the urge to catch her thumb between his teeth and run his tongue over it. Instead he flashed her a devastating grin and thanked her.
“You know,” he said. “My first impression of you was dead on.”
“Oh yeah?” she asked. “Do I want to hear this?”
“I figured you were a crazy Californian and boy, was I ever right.”
She squealed and punched him lightly on the arm. When he just laughed, she resorted to tickling his ribs until he begged for mercy. “Hey, I’m driving here,” he said.
“Lucky for you,” she said and stuck out her tongue.
All too soon, in his opinion, they reached the exit for her house in San Rafael. “I guess you’re glad to finally get home – only eight or nine hours late,” he said.
“Mmm hmm,” she agreed in a subdued tone.
As she gave him directions, it hit her all of a sudden that their adventure was almost over and she would probably never see him again. As happy as she was to be home, part of her wanted to prolong the evening. But the rental car wasn’t likely to break down. And so he would go on to meet his soon-to-be-fiancée, leaving her alone with her cat.
Will was similarly reluctant for the drive to end, although he did not give any hint of his feelings as he pulled into her driveway and opened the trunk. He smiled and shook her hand. “Thanks for the company. I don’t know if I would have made it to California without you,” he said.
“Thanks for driving,” she said. “It was fun – in a strange kind of way.”
He just stood there holding her bag until she gently took it from his grip.
“Are you going to be all right getting into the city? Do you need directions?” she asked.
“No, I have a map. I’ll be fine,” he replied.
She pulled a tattered business card from her purse and scrawled her cell phone number on it. “Here,” she said. “Call me when you get there, OK, so I won’t worry.”
“You’ll be asleep,” he said.
“No, I’m going to stay up and have breakfast with Jane before she leaves on her trip,” she said.
“All right then,” he said. “Take care.”
“You too,” she replied and she turned and went into the house.
Will stood staring at the spot where she had been for several minutes before he shook himself and got back in the car. What a day, he thought to himself with a smile.
Lizzie left her suitcase in the hall and tiptoed into the kitchen. There she had a joyous reunion with Jasper who cuddled with her, purring happily. She checked the refrigerator and found that her considerate sister had fully stocked it. She hummed to herself and as she grabbed the ingredients for blueberry muffins and fruit salad. “It’s good to be home, Jasper,” she said.
She had just pulled the muffins out of the oven and was brewing some coffee when her cell phone rang. She answered quickly, hoping that it had not disturbed Jane.
“Lizzie, it’s Will Darcy,” a familiar voice said.
“Hi Will. Are you at the hotel?”
“Yes, I’m here now. I just wanted to let you know I got here safely. Are you having breakfast with your sister?”
“I just finished making it. I think she’ll be awake soon. Then, I will hit the hay.”
“Your chocolate shake high is wearing off?” he asked.
“Yes,” she replied. “Yours?”
“I’ll probably fall asleep the minute I hang up the phone.”
“Goodnight, Will,” she said. “Sweet dreams.”
“I’m sure they will be,” he replied sleepily, but she had already hung up the phone.
Just then, Jane padded into the kitchen in her robe and slippers. “Lizzie! When did you get home? What smells good? Who were you talking to?”
Lizzie laughed. “So many questions! Let’s see. About half an hour ago. Blueberry muffins. And the man of my dreams – who unfortunately happens to be about to propose to his girlfriend later today.”
“It sounds like you had an interesting journey. Do tell,” Jane said as she helped herself to a generous serving of muffins and fruit. Lizzie poured two cups of coffee and joined her at the table. While Jane ate, Lizzie filled her in on the events of the last twelve hours.
When Jane left for the airport forty-five minutes later, Lizzie crawled in bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
Posted on Sunday, 14 December 2003
Lizzie woke many hours later to an insistent ringing sound. It took her sleep-fogged brain a minute to realize that it was her cell phone and another minute of floundering to find it. By the time she answered, she was mostly awake and completely out of breath.
“Elizabeth Bennet,” she gasped.
“Hello Elizabeth Bennet,” a now-familiar deep voice said. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Hello Fitzwilliam Darcy III,” she returned cheekily. “No, of course not.”
“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “I am sorry that I called so early.”
“What time is it?” she asked.
“It’s a little past 4.”
“4 p.m.?” she squealed. “Oh dear, so much for all those things I wanted to do today.” As she said those words, it occurred to her that Will was on the phone – with her – instead of proposing to Caroline.
“What have you and Caroline been doing today?” she asked.
“Caroline’s not coming,” he said in a flat tone.
“What happened?” she asked.
“Well,” he said. “The short version is that we fought, we broke up, it’s over.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said.
“I guess it’s for the best.” He sounded so forlorn that her heart went out to him. Just yesterday he had been planning to spend the rest of his life with this woman and now he might never see her again.
“So, I was – um – wondering – um – if you would like to have dinner with me tonight?” he asked in an unsure voice.
She didn’t know what to say. She felt a little strange about standing in for Caroline on what was undoubtedly going to be an expensive, romantic evening. Also, although she ordinarily loved going out to dinner in the city, she had just gotten home from two straight weeks of restaurant meals and she was longing to spend some quality time with her kitchen and her cat.
Will interpreted her silence as a negative and said, “It’s OK, I understand.”
On hearing the sad note in his voice, she couldn’t fight the impulse to cheer him up somehow. Without stopping to think, she blurted, “Why don’t you cancel your reservations and come have dinner with me here? Let’s say 8 p.m.? I make a mean lasagna.”
“Are you sure?” he asked, still a little hesitant.
“Absolutely,” she replied.
After she hung up, she sighed. “Jasper, your mother is a crazy woman.” Jasper just blinked solemnly as if to say that wasn’t news to him. “I guess I’d better get moving – we’re having a guest for dinner.” She pulled on her favorite Stanford Law sweatshirt, pulled her hair into a ponytail, and went out into the living room. Looking around, she silently thanked her organized sister, who had left the house perfectly neat and tidy. She thanked her again as went into the kitchen and realized that she had all of the fixings for lasagna and salad. All of a sudden, she remembered that it was Will’s birthday. She checked and found that she even had the ingredients for chocolate cake. Perfect, she thought.
She was so busy cooking all afternoon that she didn’t have time to be nervous about her upcoming date. When she finally stepped into the shower, though, all of her qualms returned. She couldn’t deny that she was extremely attracted to him and that she was more than a little afraid of getting hurt. But you couldn’t very well leave the man alone in San Francisco on his birthday, she chided herself as she pulled on capri pants and a sweater.
At 8 p.m. on the dot, the doorbell rang. When Lizzie answered the door, all her reservations fled. Will was standing there with a bottle of wine, a huge bunch of tulips, and a big boyish grin. He was dressed casually – at least compared to the day before. He was wearing jeans that looked brand new, a maroon cashmere sweater, and a soft leather jacket.
As he handed her the wine and flowers, he bent over to kiss her cheek in greeting. The scent of his aftershave and the brief press of his warm lips created an unfamiliar flutter in her stomach.
“Thanks for inviting me,” he said.
“Please come in,” she replied with a smile.
“Dinner smells great,” he said, feeling suddenly a little shy as he looked around her homey living room.
“Come into the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll put these in water and you can open the wine.”
From that moment on, there was no awkwardness. They ate in the breakfast nook and chatted happily like old friends.
After dinner, they cleared the plates away together and Lizzie put on coffee. “OK, go into the living room, sit on the sofa and close your eyes,” she said. “I have a surprise for you.”
He quirked his eyebrow but she just shooed him out of the kitchen.
So, he did as she had commanded. A few minutes later, he heard her enter the room. “Open your eyes,” she said. “Happy Birthday!”
The sight that greeted him nearly took his breath away. Lizzie had turned off all the lights and was holding a chocolate cake ablaze with candles. The soft light illuminated her lovely face, shining with happiness.
“Thank you,” he said, swallowing back the tears that threatened.
“Go on. Blow out the candles and make a wish.”
I wish to be with you forever, he thought as he blew out all the candles with one breath.
When Lizzie went to turn the lights back on and get their coffee, he looked down at the cake. The entire surface was covered. She had spelled out “Happy Bday Will” in multi-colored M&Ms and she had put 33 candles on it.
“Lizzie, I’m only 32,” he called out to her.
“One to grow on,” she called back.
“Oh, right,” he said.
She came back in with a cake knife and insisted that he cut the first piece for himself. He was equally insistent that she have the first bite. After much playful squabbling, they ended up sprawled on the sofa, feeding each other cake with their fingers and laughing.
“Marry me Lizzie,” Will said out of the blue.
She abruptly went still. “Will, don’t joke about something like that.”
“I’m completely serious,” he said. “Please will you marry me?”
“But – but,” she sputtered. “You’ve never even kissed me.”
He didn’t say anything in response. He just reached over, took her hands in his, and tugged until she fell into his lap. Then he devoted himself to kissing her thoroughly. He kissed her wholeheartedly, devotedly, passionately – like he’d never kissed any other woman before. Many minutes later, he finally released her lips and cuddled her against his chest. “Any other objections?” he asked.
“I don’t know how I can be expected to think rationally after that,” she sighed. “But, there is the small fact that we live 3000 miles apart.”
“I’m the boss, though. I can just work from the West coast office.” He kissed the top of her head and played with her curls. “Anything else?”
Deciding it was time to be serious, Lizzie sat up and looked him in the eye. “How about the fact that when I met you – yesterday – you were planning to propose to another woman? I mean, how do I know that you’re not just on the rebound? Or maybe you’re determined to get engaged this weekend and I’m the only one available? Will, we’ve only known each other for a day! I don’t know about you Darcy men, but we Bennet women expect a little time to get to know our prospective husbands.”
He took her small hands in his larger ones and caressed the tops of her fingers with his thumbs. “You’re right – I mean that I shouldn’t have rushed you. You can have all the time you need to get to know me and think about your answer. But you’re wrong about all the rest.”
She looked at him expectantly and he continued, “My father was right after all. I just know that you are The One.”
She just stared at him in wonder. He gazed intently into her eyes and hurried to explain. “Do you want to know how I know? Yesterday, when I boarded that plane, I should have been on top of the world. I had just achieved the career goal I'd been working towards for years and, as you point out, I was flying to San Francisco intending to propose to my girlfriend. But I was in a black mood, so much so that I was rude to the beautiful woman sitting next to me. Then, twelve hours later, after having my flight delayed, then cancelled, running through the airport, bouncing through two cities, and driving 100 miles, I fell asleep with a smile on my face. And it was because of you, Lizzie. You make me happy. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
Lizzie blinked once, twice. Will held his breath waiting for her reaction to his declaration. Then she smiled, a huge, radiant smile that lit up her sparkling eyes. She leaned over and kissed him lightly on the lips. “It seems I underestimated the impulsiveness of Bennet women, or at least of this one. Will, I don’t have to think about it. My answer is yes.”
If they could have seen themselves at that moment, they would have noticed that they were wearing identical expressions of heartfelt delight.