Page 95 of A Certain Appeal
This blows Friday’s casual “outstanding” out of the water. “Thank you.”
“With your permission, I’d like to apply this design to Pemberley.”
“You’d like—”
“And, if you’re interested”—he pauses, eyes watchful on me—“move the Meryton productions here. Permanently.”
I gawk at him, speechless.
He lets me stare for a few seconds. When it’s clear that I’m incapable of vocalizing, he raises an eyebrow. “Please?”
I’m already shaking my head. “Darcy, you can’t—”
“I’ve run the numbers. Charles and Andrea have the liquid capital for the renovations. You and yours have the plan.”
Me and mine.“Seriously?” My voice is high with disbelief. Or is it shock?Myconcept at Pemberley. A new home for the show.
“I don’t want you to feel pressured.” There’s an undercurrent ofconcern to his voice. “In this scenario, we actually have time. There’s no buying process. Still, you say the word, and I have a short list of contractors to review your plans.”
I’m back to dumb amazement. “This is huge, Darcy.Huge,” I say emphatically. “And don’t be offering because...” I try to produce something a little more subtle than “because we keep leaving sex stamps on the window of your hotel room,” but nothing comes to mind.
He looks amused at my plight.
I nudge him with my knee. “Youknow.”
Darcy turns his attention to the table, leaning to peer under it, then braces his foot against the pedestal leg. A quick push creates another foot of space between himself and the tabletop. He reaches for me. “C’mere.”
I roll my eyes but slide onto his lap. The snug fit of my dress only allows me to straddle one of his thighs. “You’re kind of proving my point.”
He chuckles. “I can’t promise that the two are mutually exclusive. And if the idea makes you uncomfortable, we can slow down. I’d rather not slow oneitherfront”—he squeezes my hips for emphasis—“but this is your call.”
I appreciate his assurances, and goodGodis this prospect exciting. But I keep a leash on my enthusiasm. “It feels...impulsive.”
“I’d like to refer to Friday evening as a testament to my restraint.”
“When you specifically asked thatIact as your restraint?”
“Details.” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “I’ve had your work in mind for weeks now, Bennet, since I saw that article on your school’s site. If Meryton hadn’t fallen through, I’d have asked foryour input on Pemberley anyway.” His lips quirk into a half smile. “Assuming we’d been restored to civil terms.”
“Only civil?” I ask, for no other reason than to voice something that isn’t the giddy acceptance of his offer currently dancing on my tongue.
“I’m glad you told me to look through the bag before I got to the firm. First, because that five-by-seven almost killed me. Finn, too. I picked him up on the way to Fitz, and he was with me when I found it. I’ve never seen anyone blush that hard.” His head falls to the seat back. He peers at me through hooded eyes. “Was that yourbookmark?”
“It’s what I had,” I say, affecting the same innocent tone he took when I gave him a hard time about looking at my card.
“Then there was your vision of Pemberley. Like something out of a dream. It was hard to focus on anything at Fitz’s. I was crawling out of my skin, wanting to get back to the hotel to beg your permission to use it. And I was going to.” He smooths his hands down my arms. “But I didn’t want to get in your way if that design scheme ended up being what you wanted for your new Meryton. Then you had your plan. And it hit me, looking at what you’d put together, that this was the perfect opportunity for all of us. But I didn’t want to cut in on something if Charles wanted to strike out on his own.”
“What changed? Why are you asking me now?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” He frowns thoughtfully. “My work life revolves around spending other people’s money, Bennet. I want to build something of my own. The fact that it involved something so exceptional for this building?” His hands find the exposed skin of my back and my breathing goes tight. “You said it yourself.Pemberley means a lot to me. I wouldn’t trust it to just anyone. I’ve been waiting the better part of my life for inspiration. You’re it.”
The word “inspiration” weaves through my rib cage; it’s going on the list with “paperwork” and “absolutely.” I slide my hand along the stubble of his jaw, trying to ground myself. “And if wefail? This is your money, Darcy.”
“Every investment has risks. If we remodel and the concept flops...” He tips his head side to side, as though weighing the potential outcome. “Not ideal, but hardly ruinous. Pemberley would return to being a rental venue, and a particularly stunning one at that. You would still get to see your plan realized, and—”
“Will still have failed, once again putting my friends’ careers in jeopardy, and—oh, yeah—losing you and Charles and Andrea abunchof money—”
“Which could happen in any scenario: here, anywhere else Charles found, the original Meryton. Where’s the optimism you had five minutes ago?”
