Page 11 of Perfectly Right

“Well, based on your car and the rumors about a few paintings in your possession, youarethe richest man I know. But—” she took a sip of wine, readying her wording— “honestly, the two of you are only alike on the surface.”

“She did dress well for a Saturday morning coffee date,” he said, in a voice that almost sounded like teasing.

“I bet. She cannot detach herself from her Birkin. Look, I respect Claire’s business sense and I figured you two had that much in common. She’s smart, sees every angle, and doesn’t much worry about anyone’s feelings—just the quality of what they produce every day.”

“Do I detect a wee bit of a compliment for my business skills?”

“Maybe,” she said, yawning. “And I figured she’d find your endless use of ‘thus’ to be a turn-on.”

His rich laugh filled her ear. “Fine. It was a perfunctory hour. We exchanged business cards. All in all, this one was a swipe left but maybe a win for you anyway.”

She closed her eyes, happy he couldn’t see her relief. Claire might be a valuable business connection, but the idea of Darcy actually liking her enough to date her was nauseating. “Andthuswe continue in our search for the one perfect swipe right.”

“Yes.” Then, unexpectedly, rather than laughing in agreement, his voice turned more serious. “I know the next date is my last chance to swing for the fences, so give me some help here. Tell me about that last guy you dated so I make sure not to set you up with anyone like that.”

“He was nobody, really.”Really.

“The Matt guy? Jane said you dated for a few months.”

Groaning, Elizabeth sat up and took the last sip from her glass before setting it back on the table. “Okay, swear you will not tell anyone?” She paused, nervously waiting for his soft if hesitant ‘of course’ before launching into her mortifying revelation.

“Work has been intense lately and I needed my mom and Jane to give me space and stop trying to fix me up with the priest’s nephew or the dentist’s cousin, so I pretended I was seeing someone. It worked—they stopped bothering me—but it’s so weird to say it out loud: I made up an imaginary boyfriend.” She was babbling, but in her mortification, she couldn’t stop herself. “Seriously, I never lie, except when my sisters or Charlotte ask whether they look fat in their jeans or if?—”

“I get it,” he said abruptly. “A couple of years ago, when I was tired of my aunt Catherine’s crusade to marry me off to someheiress, I pretended I was seeing someone. It only worked until my cousin found out and told his mother.Shemade me go out for dinner with her therapist’s neighbor’s daughter.”

“You were smart enough to make up a name that couldn’t be Googled or checked on social media?”

“Well, Ididgo to Harvard. Thus, I know things.”

“Except how to cook food or stock your fridge.” She laughed before breaking into another yawn.

“Good point. I need to order dinner, and maybe you should get some sleep.”

“Okay. But don’t screw me over next Saturday. It’s your last chance.”

“I won’t,” he said. “I promise. And thanks for letting me know about the elusive Matt. Does anyone else know?”

“Jane finally figured it out, but I made her swear not to tell anyone—not even Charlie.”

Twenty minutes later, Elizabeth was curled up in bed trying to absorb herself in the fantasy novel Kitty had pressed her to read. But rather than getting lost in the story, she felt restless. Her unease centered on what had happened earlier with Darcy; not only had she told him the embarrassing story of how she’d made up a boyfriend—but he had been sweet and told her he’d done the same thing to placate his family.

It was astonishing.

Only a few weeks ago, she had disliked him, and now she was telling him a secret she hadn’t even told Charlotte? It was unnerving how quickly she had come to enjoy talking to him, how comfortable their conversations flowed. It felt that way toher, at least.Darcy had been eager enough to hang up and get on with his evening. I was the one who called—but he texted me first.

A glance at the clock on her nightstand revealed it was barely nine-thirty; she felt ridiculous being in bed at such an early hour.Not to mention, being in there alone, worrying over a guy, and struggling to read a YA novel. She set aside the book and reached for her phone to scroll through her Instagram feed. Jane was posting pictures of sumptuous-looking pasta and tiramisu, so Elizabeth was assured her elder sister had had a nice date night with Charlie at his restaurant.

Did Darcy get something to eat?

She tapped out a message.

Thai or frozen pizza?

She held her phone, waiting nervously, for a very long minute before the little bubbles indicating a reply began appearing. When they stopped, she groaned. When they started again, she felt a relief that surprised her. She curled into her pillow and read Darcy’s message.

You are supposed to be asleep, or counting sheep, or reading a trashy novel in bed.

Only the last bit of your sentence is close to being true. The book is unreadable. How about your dinner?

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