My Own Mr. Darcy (2 page)

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Authors: Karey White

BOOK: My Own Mr. Darcy
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Oh my goodness. That
smile. And I wanted to float away in his eyes.

I loved this movie and it was
going to end much too quickly. Finally Mr. Bingley, who turned out to be more
adorable than goofy proposed to beautiful Jane. And then there was the hateful
aunt. Rich snob! No wonder Mr. Darcy was so arrogant. And then Elizabeth couldn’t
sleep because she knew she was in love with Mr. Darcy, so she went for an early
morning walk in the meadow.

The meadow.

During the forty-five
seconds that Mr. Darcy walked across the meadow, my life changed. Each long
stride he took toward me—I mean Elizabeth—lodged itself in my heart and I would
never be the same. The mist, the sunrise, the trench coat, and the sweet
declaration of his love melded into the most beautiful few minutes I’d ever
seen and I was bewitched body and soul.

I felt a terrible
emptiness when the movie ended. Mom and Janessa started talking almost
immediately but I didn’t listen to them. I sat perfectly still, listening as
the piano music filled my soul.

When the lights came up, I
followed Mom and Janessa out of the theater to the chilly, almost-empty parking
lot. “Did you like it?” Mom asked. I nodded. “What about you, Janessa?”

“It was much better than I
thought it would be,” she said. “At least I’m not dreading the book so much now.”

“You’ll love the book,”
Mom said.

“I’ll understand it better
now that I’ve seen the movie,” Janessa said. “Lizzie? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You have a funny look on
your face.”

I shook myself back to the
present. “No, you have a funny look on your face.” Maybe sarcasm could rescue
me. I couldn’t let them know how utterly transformed I was.

Janessa shook her head.
“Whatever.”

That night I couldn’t fall
asleep. Something had happened to me. I was no longer the person I’d been just
a few short hours ago. I didn’t think about Jake from the soccer team, the boy who’d
been my crush for the last six months. I no longer cared if he noticed me or
not. He was just a boy, after all.

That night a dream was
born. I’d discovered what I wanted, what I knew someday I must have. I knew I
could never be satisfied until I found it.

I wanted my own Mr. Darcy.

JANESSA WALKED INTO
the
kitchen stretching like a cat awakened after a century of slumber. Even in the
morning, with her short, dark hair sticking up in all directions, she was
beautiful. Janessa was the much prettier half of our best-friends duo. Her blue
eyes and fair skin seemed lit from within, ethereal almost. My light, wavy hair
and the freckles across my nose and cheeks would never inspire people to call
me beautiful. Cute was the word most often used, if anyone commented on my
looks at all.

“Oh, you’re still here,”
she said. “I thought you’d be gone to work already.” Janessa was a manager at Urban
Elegance, a boutique women’s clothing store in the mall. She didn’t have to be
to work until nearly ten so I was usually gone before she got up.

“I needed a good breakfast
this morning. There’s a teller meeting during lunch and Delia always orders the
worst food. I may not get anything decent to eat until tonight.”

“How was your big date yesterday?
I wanted a full report but you were already asleep when I came in.” Janessa
pulled out a bowl and rattled through the spoons. Everything she did in the kitchen
made noise. Even by herself, she sounded like an entire staff of energetic sous
chefs. She loudly shuffled through a half dozen boxes of cereal before settling
on Cheerios.

“It was fine but it wasn’t
a big date. It was lunch.”

“Was there potential?”

“I don’t think so.”

“What was wrong with
this
one?”

“Who said there was
anything wrong with him?”

“You don’t have a list of objections
for me?” Janessa raised one eyebrow, a talent I couldn’t master no matter how
hard I tried.

“I don’t have objections
about everyone I date,” I said.

“So when are you going out
again?”

“Probably never.”

“So there
was
something wrong with him.” Janessa said.

“No, there wasn’t. He was
a perfect gentleman,” I said.

“Then why don’t you want
to go out with him again?” I shrugged. “Listen Lizzie. Any guy who gets up the
courage to ask a girl out at the grocery store should get a few bonus points. 
Go out with him again.”

Last week I’d been
standing in the Asian aisle of the grocery store picking up some curry paste
and coconut milk. “Do you actually drink coconut milk?” a tall, cute guy asked.

“I suppose you could but I
don’t know anyone who does. I use it for chicken curry.”

“Sounds interesting. You
like Indian food?”

“It’s actually Thai.”

“I haven’t had Thai food
for years. I don’t know why. I think I liked it.”

“I start craving it at
least once a month. Sometimes I get it from Pok Pok and sometimes I make it
myself.”

“Pok Pok?” he’d asked.

“It’s over on Division
Street. If you like Thai, you should try it. The food is amazing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.
I’m Chad, by the way.” I shook his outstretched hand. I couldn’t help but
smile. It was cute that he’d shake my hand in the grocery store.

“I’m Lizzie.”

“Nice to meet you, Lizzie.
I’m just stocking up on ramen.” He waved a little plastic pouch of ramen and
put it back in his basket.

“Ramen has its place,” I
said.

“I agree. It makes a quick
and easy lunch.” We looked at each other for a moment longer than was
comfortable. He smiled a slightly crooked smile. “Well, I guess I’ll take my
ramen and run. Thanks for the recommendation. I’ll have to try Pok Pok
sometime.”

“Sure.” I watched as he
walked away. When he reached the end of the aisle, he turned around and walked
back to me.

“I just have to ask. Would
you mind if I called you sometime? Maybe we could meet for lunch or something?”

“Oh, um . . .” He was cute
and earnest but I could already tell there was no future.

“Unless you’re not
available. You probably have a boyfriend, right?”

I shook my head. “I don’t
have a boyfriend.”

“Then can I call you?”

“Uh, sure. I guess so.”

“Great.” Chad handed me
his cellphone and I punched in my number. “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.” He put
his phone back in his pocket and shook my hand again before he left.

He’d called me two nights
ago. We’d met for lunch yesterday.

“I just wasn’t interested,”
I said to Janessa. “Can we leave it at that?”

Janessa folded her arms
and looked at me for so long I started to squirm. “What?”

“I wish you’d look at
yourself. You’re ruining your life with this stupid obsession.”

“I’m not obsessed.” I stood
up quickly, nearly tipping my chair over. I rinsed my plate and put it in the
dishwasher. I could feel Janessa’s eyes on me the entire time, but I refused to
look at her. “And just because I’m not interested in this guy doesn’t mean my
life is ruined.”

“Let me guess. Was he
blond?”

“Knock it off.”

“Too short?”

“He wasn’t short. I’ve got
to go.” I left the kitchen with Janessa on my heels.

“Was he too cheerful?”

“Oh brother. I’m not
having this conversation with you.”

Janessa grabbed my arm and
turned me toward her. “Yes, you are.”

“I’m going to be late for
work.”

“Then we’d better talk
fast.”

“I don’t have anything to
say,” I said.

“Then I’ll talk. You
listen. You have to start giving these guys a chance.”

I folded my arms tightly. “I
give them a chance.”

“You give them one date,
two at the most. But you’re not really giving them a chance because your mind’s
already made up before you even go out.”

I was getting annoyed. “I
don’t have time for this conversation again.” Janessa was practically reciting word
for word what she’d said after my last date. And the one before that.

“Lizzie. If you don’t want
to have the same conversation, do something different. Shake things up a
little.” She smiled and did a little shimmy. I refused to smile no matter how
silly she looked.

“How do you suggest I do
that?”

“If this guy . . . What’s
his name?”

“Chad.”

“If Chad calls you back,
go out with him again.”

I sighed. “I don’t see the
point.”

“Did you get a serial
killer vibe from him?”

“No, I got a
nice-guy-that-doesn’t-deserve-to-be-led-on vibe from him.”

“Nice guys are good. So you’ll
say yes, right?”

“If I’m not interested, it
wouldn’t be fair to say yes.”

“Oh knock off the baloney.
You haven’t been fair to a guy since high school. You’re just afraid if you get
to know a guy, you might like him. And wouldn’t that be awful? Was Chad funny?”

“Yes, he was funny.”

“Handsome?”

I sighed. “I don’t know if
I’d call him handsome, but he was cute.”

“Cute is good. Especially
if he was funny. So go out with him again.”

“You act like it’s all up
to me.” I walked to the closet and collected my purse. Like a tiger leaping on
her prey, Janessa pounced at the bowl on the entry table and grabbed my car
keys. “This isn’t funny, Janessa. I’m going to be late for work.”

“Then let’s make a deal.
You agree to go out with him ten times before you toss him aside and I’ll give
you your keys.”

“Ten times? No way.”

“That’ll give you time to
get to know him.”

“You’ve got to be
kidding.”

“I’m serious, Lizzie. Ten
is a good number. In that amount of time, you can make a real decision. Instead
of one based on a stupid movie.”

Now Janessa was skipping
through a minefield. “It’s not a stupid movie and I’ve got to go.”

“It’s the stupidest movie
in the world if it ruins your life.”

“Nothing’s ruining my life
and I’m going to be late. Give me my keys and we’ll talk about this later.” A little
tussle ensued as I tried to rescue my keys from her clutches. I almost had them
when she darted to the bathroom and shut the door hard and fast, locking it
behind her. “This is real mature.”

“I don’t care about
mature. You’re my best friend, Lizzie.  I love you and I’m trying to save you
from yourself.”

I banged on the door. “Give
me the keys. Now.” My voice had become shrieky.

“I’ll give you the keys as
soon as you promise you’ll go out with him ten times.”

“I doubt he’ll ask me out
again.”

“Why? Were you a jerk?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

I hesitated, knowing I
hadn’t been very good company. “I’m pretty sure.”

“If he doesn’t ask you
out, you have to ask him.”

“No way am I asking out a
guy ten times. No way!”

“You just have to ask him
out once. If he doesn’t return the favor you can move on. But you have to be
nice to him and give him a reason to want to ask you out again.”

“This is the dumbest idea
you’ve ever had.”

“Listen Liz, I’m doing
this for you. Give a guy a chance before you give him the old heave-ho.”

I leaned my head on the door.
“Just give me the keys. Please.” Now I was whining.

“You’re the one keeping
yourself from your keys. And probably true love.”

I looked at my watch. Now
I’d have to risk a speeding ticket or get to work five minutes late. I wasn’t
sure which was worse—a ticket from a police officer or a tongue-lashing from
Delia.

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