My Own Mr. Darcy (36 page)

“Lizzie, he’s not nearly
perfect. He’s arrogant and self-centered and hurtful.”

“But then he makes it up
to her. He sacrifices for her and he does things to help her and the people she
loves. And the way he looks at her. He adores her.”

“So you met Matt and he
looked like Mr. Darcy and that was all it took?”

“I know it’s hard to
understand.”

“I don’t understand at all,”
Chad said. His face was unreadable. His eyes stayed focused ahead of him and
for a moment he didn’t speak. “So did he turn out to be what you wanted?” he
finally asked.

I sighed. “I thought so.
He was brooding and arrogant. He was even wealthy, just like Mr. Darcy. But
when I got to know him better, he started becoming a kinder person.”

“Just like Mr. Darcy.” I
nodded but I don’t think he saw me. “And does he adore you?”

“He says he loves me.”

Chad stopped but kept his
eyes trained on the sidewalk ahead of us. “What about you? Are you in love with
him?”

“I’m not sure.” My voice
was barely a whisper.

Chad turned toward me his
eyes searching mine. “So why me? I don’t look like him. I don’t act like him.
Why did you go out with me?”

I knew I couldn’t lie to
him. “Because Janessa made me promise I’d go out with the next guy who asked
me.”

“But if I didn’t fit the
right mold, why did you keep going out with me?”

I pulled my eyes away from
his intense gaze and looked at a tricycle tipped over by a porch. “Because she
made me promise to give the next guy ten dates before I dumped him.”

Chad’s laugh was short and
pained. “And I was the lucky next guy.” Chad shook his head. “So you went out
with me against your will because you’d made a promise.”

“It wasn’t like that at
all, Chad. I promise. I had fun with you. I really started to like you.”

“And then you met your Mr.
Darcy and that was it.” Chad started walking away. He was right. That was
exactly what had happened. But that wasn’t all that had happened. I hurried to
catch up to him.

“That wasn’t it,” I said.
“Things would be so much easier if that was the end of it, but it wasn’t.”

Chad’s abrupt stop
surprised me. “Lizzie, I think you know how I feel.” I nodded. “But I can’t
compete with a fictional character you’ve been in love with for years.”

“Matt’s real.”

“I know. But he isn’t Mr.
Darcy and that’s who you see him as. I can’t compete with that.”

“That’s not true.”

Chad looked confused. “What’s
not true?”

“You are competing. I
can’t stop thinking about you,” I said quietly. I didn’t dare look at his face
so I stared at his shoes. And then his shoes took two steps toward me and his
hand lifted my face until our eyes met.

“Then what are you doing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh Lizzie, you’re killing
me.” He pulled me into his arms and held me tightly. “You have to decide. This
won’t work. I can’t be your friend when every time I’m near you I want to kiss
you. And I can’t be the guy who tries to steal you away. If you love him, go be
happy. Live your dream. If you don’t love him, change your dream.”

My arms went around him,
my face buried just below his chin. “Please don’t hate me.”

“Silly girl.”

“And please don’t think
I’m a fool,” I said.

“I don’t. I think you’re a
funny, charming, adorable girl with a crazy stubborn streak.” His lips touched
my temple. “But you have to decide if that stubborn streak is serving you well
or if it’s hurting you.”

I nodded. I stood on my
tiptoes and pulled Chad’s face toward me. I wanted his lips on mine so badly I
ached inside. Instead, I kissed him just to the side of his mouth. Even though
I knew Matt wouldn’t agree, the placement of the kiss made me feel a little
less traitorous.

“Oh Lizzie.” Chad’s arms
tightened around me, nearly lifting me off the ground as he buried his head
into my shoulder. We stood there like that for a few moments and then Chad took
an uneven breath and stepped away from me. “We’d better go back.”

We walked back to my
apartment in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Nothing had been resolved but
there was a peace in both of us knowing where things stood. The decision was
entirely mine. Now what would I do?

A good-sized crowd stood
in front of the Seattle Pink Salamander. Matt, Alan and Meg stood on the wide
porch with a couple of city politicians. Matt looked elegant and handsome in a
navy suit and cream-colored shirt. Alan looked a little disheveled in his gray
slacks and blue shirt. He’d gone for a more casual look and his sleeves were
rolled up to the elbows. He probably didn’t mean to, but he looked like the
hired help next to Matt’s polished management look.

And then there was Meg.
She must have spent a year of my bank salary to come up with the perfect cross
between the grand-opening-party-girl and the take-me-serious-because-I’m-an-owner
look. Her black pencil skirt hit mid-calf and hugged her figure snugly. Her
blouse was black and white stripes—not black and white striped fabric, but
black and white fabric sewn together to create the stripes. A prim bow at her
neck and long sleeves were interrupted by slits in the fabric around the neck
and at the shoulders that showed a surprising amount of skin. The bow and the
stripes would have looked like a cross between a court jester and a librarian
if it hadn’t been so unexpectedly sexy. Her five-inch ankle boots made her as
tall as Alan.

One of the politicians—a
graying man wearing a yellow bowtie—said a few words about how excited they
were to welcome a new independent bookstore to the neighborhood. I glanced
around the crowd while he spoke, wondering if Matt’s parents were here. When
the politician finished speaking, Alan stepped forward and introduced Matt and
Meg to the gathering. Matt waved. Meg blew a kiss.

And then they opened the
doors for business.

I held back as the crowd
entered. I didn’t see any exceptionally dressed couples. Either they weren’t
what I expected or they weren’t yet here.

A plain girl stood behind
the counter ringing up customers. I couldn’t help but wonder if Meg was
responsible for that hire.

A steady stream of
customers made their way through the store. It was a busy day.

I wasn’t sure where I
should be so I started browsing the shelves looking for a design book to buy. I
might as well help boost their opening day sales. I was looking through
A
World of Textiles
when Matt’s arms slid around my waist and his lips kissed
the side of my neck. “What do you think?” he asked.

“I think it turned out
great. You guys did a really good job.”

“I think I like the layout
of this store better than Portland. Except the Children’s Room, of course.”

“Of course,” I said. “Are
you parents here yet?” I tried to hide the anxiety I was feeling.

“They’ll be here this
afternoon. We’ve got reservations at The Herbgarden.”

“Mmm. That sounds
delicious,” I said.

“I know you really liked
it.”

“Who all will be there?”

“Just my parents and us,”
Matt said.

I’d hoped to be free of
Alan and Meg for the evening but suddenly a larger group sounded easier. Safer.

“Are you okay?” Matt
asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re so pale. You’re
not a hundred percent yet, are you?”

“I am tired,” I said.

“Take my car and go back
to your hotel and rest.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said.

“I want you to go rest.
Tonight’s a big night and I don’t want you to be tired. I’ll ride over with my
parents to pick you up. Take a nap and relax. We’ll be by at about six.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.” Matt walked me
to his car and kissed me. “Tonight’s going to be good,” he said.

I stepped off the elevator
and paused to breathe. Just around the corner from this little hallway, Matt
and his parents were waiting. I let out a slow breath and wiped my hands on the
skirt of my black dress. It was the same dress I’d worn to the Keller’s open
house but in an effort to make Matt happy, I was wearing plain black pantyhose,
black flats and a simple silver necklace.

“Here she is,” Matt said
and put his arm around my waist. “Mom and Dad, this is Elizabeth. Elizabeth, my
parents.”

Matt’s dad shook my hand.
His mom kissed the air over my shoulder. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs.
Dawson,” I said.

“Just call us Paul and
Ellen,” Mr. Dawson said.

Paul was tall and elegant,
just what I imagined Matt would look like in another quarter century. Ellen was
a beautiful woman—perhaps a little too polished and a little too smooth. Her
eyebrows were more arched than a woman her age could manage on her own and her
lips were a little too plump.

After a few pleasantries,
we walked through the revolving door and a valet soon delivered the Dawsons’
car. “You drive, Matthew, since you know where we’re going. Your mother and I
will sit in the back.”

The drive was pleasant
with most of the conversation centered on the grand opening. The conversation
continued after we were seated at the lovely crystal and silver-laden table.

“I really don’t know why
you put up with Alan dressing like a peasant,” Ellen said.

Matt laughed. “Alan
dresses how he wants. There’s not much I could say that would make him try
harder.”

“Well, you and Meg looked
stunning.”

“I guess Alan takes after
his father,” Paul said. “Jim never did worry about his appearance.”

“Maybe if he had tried
harder, Alice wouldn’t have taken up with that realtor.”

“Now we’re sharing Alan’s
sordid family life,” Paul said. “And he’s not even here to defend himself.”

“Alan doesn’t need
defended,” Matt said. “He knows about his family’s failings. Why do you think
he wanted to move to Seattle?”

“Well that might explain
why he wanted to move away but I’m still not sure why you and Meg had to leave,”
Ellen said. “You could have opened a lovely bookstore in Arizona and then I
wouldn’t be without my son and Margaret wouldn’t be without Meg.”

“That’s true, but Portland
was calling my name,” Matt said. He rested his arm on the back of my chair his fingers
touching my neck just behind my ear.

“And you were calling
Meg’s name,” Ellen said. Matt’s hand stopped moving on my neck. An awkward hush
fell over the table. Matt and his father exchanged a meaningful glance. “I
still don’t know what happened between you two.”

“Mom, not now,” Matt said.

“Not now what? Surely your
new girlfriend knows you and Meg were as good as engaged.”

Actually, the new
girlfriend didn’t know anything of the sort. I took a sip of water, not sure
what to say or even how to act.

“We were never engaged.”
Matt’s voice was quiet. Paul coughed behind his napkin.

“Well, there might not
have been a ring, but we all expected it any time.” Ellen looked from me to
Matt and back to me. When the discomfort had reached its boiling point, she
smiled. “But that’s clearly behind us now, isn’t it. Tell us about your family,
Elizabeth.”