Page 41 of A Certain Appeal
He smirks. “Hardly. Basically, I tell very rich people how and where to spend their money and occasionally help them work around estate taxes.”
I wrinkle my nose. “That sounds morally questionable.”
“It feels that way sometimes. But the estate taxes are usually avoided through establishing charitable foundations, so morally, it’s more of a wash.”
“Is it...” I think back to our last conversation. “Fulfilling?”
His mind must go to the same place, because his responding look is shrewd. “Is what you do?”
“I asked first.”
“I’m pretty sureIasked first. But no.” He says it plainly. “My work is not fulfilling. But I’m good at it. I majored in business, interned in college, established a client base. It isn’t a dream job, but in some cases, I’ve been able to help other people achieve their dreams, so...”
“Another wash?”
“I guess.” His dull tone suggests otherwise.
“Then what would be fulfilling?”
“That’s the million-dollar question.”
“Probably more, in your case.”
He looks at me from the corner of his eye. “That’s the tone I got from your emails, by the way.”
“You said cheeky. That bordered on insolent.”
Another huff.Will I ever get a proper laugh out of this guy?
“What would be fulfilling?” He asks it more to himself than me, eyes on the window. “I really would love to see something done withthis place. Pemberley could be so much more. Itdeservesto be more. I just haven’t found the inspiration.”
I smile despite myself; I’ve been feeling the same way. I’ve played with several Meryton ideas here, and while it’s all quality work, they lack something. Some element is missing. Even though I’m sketching it all out for my own benefit, it feels like I’m failing the building somehow by not presenting her best self.
Darcy clears his throat. “Bennet, when we spoke in Bushwick, I—”
“Showed your ass?”
“Did I?” His face scrunches, voice high with cartoonish skepticism. It’s adorable.
“Yeah. Y’did.”
He turns to rest his weight against the table. “I’m still getting used to the whole burlesque... scene. It’s a lot to take in.”
I screw up my face like he did. “Is it?”
“When Charles asked me to look over the properties he was considering, he only gave me hard numbers. Property value, revenue, and a description of the businesses operating in each. Meryton was listed as a ‘cabaret.’ So I was a little thrown when I arrived to find out that Charles had not only put in an offer without consulting me, but that the ‘cabaret’ was—”
“A threat to your virtue?”
He eyes me flatly, but the corners of that fine mouth of his twitch. “Not as described.”
“Huh. Seems you should have done some Googling. That’s some sloppy man-of-businessing.”
“You—” He presses his lips together, the attempt to hide his smile betrayed by a delightful crinkling around his eyes. “What I’m taking forever to say is that you were right. About my trust issues. That’s aDarcy family standard. If we had a coat of arms, it would just be an old man, clutching money, giving side-eye. I don’t want to be that way. It’s partly why I’ve spent my adult life on the other side of the country.”
He sighs. “But I’ve also had enough experiences to reinforce the family habit. So you’ll have to forgive me for needing time to adjust to a community that takes something I understand as intimate and treats it as something recreational.”
“So, you admit it,” I muse. “You see clothing coming off and it gives you a certain expectation.”
