Page 31 of A Searing Acquaintance
Her head shot up, and Elizabeth fixed her eyes on George. He was sneering, and he looked defiant, but the edge in his voice held a slight quaver.
Darcy, who had been holding onto the door handle, let it go and moved toward them. “I won’t tell you again. Get. Out. Of. Here. Now.”
George put his hand on his chest and bent his head to Elizabeth. “He’s in a mood. Be careful, Lizzy.” He turned and sauntered away. “Call me if you’re up for that drink.”
She watched him go and then, feeling Darcy’s looming presence, turned around. He was breathing heavily and clenching his fists.
“What’s with the caveman act?”
“What?”
“Were you going to hit him?”
He scoffed. “I’ve tried that. Doesn’t work. He keeps coming back like a bad penny.”
Elizabeth’s eyes flared. “He wasn’t coming here to start a fight. He wanted to see the performance.”
“Like hell he did.” Darcy stared at her, his face cold. “You were going to go out with him?”
“He’s a friend.”
“No.” Darcy appeared even angrier, almost wild. Elizabeth took a step back.
“He’s…he is not a man to befriend. He is not a good man.”
“I meet a lot of men. He’s certainly not among the worst. He has nice manners.”
“Yes, I’ve noticed you know a lot of men. Fond of athletic types, are you?”
Her jaw dropped. She was tired of all the work it took to have a conversation with this man. “Yes,” Elizabeth said icily. “And they’re all more pleasant company than you.”
“Elizabeth, please,” Darcy said in an urgent voice. “That didn’t come out right. I’d really like to talk with you.”
She shook her head, pulled out her phone, and sent Jane a quick text before walking to the curb to hail a cab.
“Then let me take you home. I have a car here. Please.”
Those dark eyes were beseeching her.He knows he screwed up.Too bad.
“No, thank you. I live in Jersey—too far out of your comfort zone.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
“Elizabeth Bennet, welcome to the cheap seats!” Richard caught Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her into the wood-paneled luxury lounge. Charlotte followed, eyes wide as she took in the vista.
And I thought UM’s boxes were nice. This is how the other half lives.Elizabeth thought Richard had said boxseats, not boxsuite, but when she and Charlotte handed their tickets to the gate attendant, they were guided to a private elevator and found themselves up here. This was amazing, like sitting in a stunningly furnished penthouse with a million-dollar view of the ballpark. Make that a multimillion-dollar view.Wow!She sank into one of the thick leather armchairs and gratefully accepted a glass of wine from the server.
“Hello there. I’m Richard Fitzwilliam. You must be the BFF?” He smiled at Charlotte, who was watching him with a bemused stare.
“That’s me. Charlotte Lucas, BFF slash fashion advisor to Elizabeth Bennet.”
Elizabeth elbowed her. “Fashion advisor? Try financial tyrant.”
“Prepare to be shocked, Richard. I’m an accountant.” Charlotte popped a chip in her mouth and winked at him.
Rich burst out laughing. “Oh, thank God! Anormalperson. I’d die happy if I never met another tortured artist or blogger who knows how to make amazing gluten-free pestoandset up a working peace plan for the Middle East.”
“Oh dear, it sounds as though you’ve been reading my tweets,” Charlotte said. She didn’t miss Rich’s raised eyebrows.
