The Secret Diary of Lizzie Bennet (24 page)

“I preferred to focus on my education.”

“So, Liz, what are you studying?”

“Mass communications, ma’am.”

“What about mass communications is so important that you decided against becoming Collins’s second-in-command?”

“Um . . .” I began nervously, “considering the speed at which the world is changing in terms of how we talk and relate to each other, I consider mass communications to be
vitally important.”

“Hmm . . .” Ms. De Bourgh’s lips compressed into a thin line. “Well, I suppose I can admire your desire to finish your education. But isn’t your family quite
poor?”

“I . . . um . . .”

“How many sisters do you have?”

“Just the two.”

“And you all still live at home?”

“Well, Lydia’s only twenty, and Jane actually just took a job in Los Angeles and moved out.”

“You say ‘only twenty,’ I say ‘already twenty.’ It seems rather stunted to me to have full-grown daughters still living at home with their parents. What a tragic
commentary on the declining work ethic of today’s younger generation. I have always felt the middle class has been too coddled. I do hope you’re not one of those who are jealous of
people with money. But we do work so much harder than you.”

“Of course you do,” I said. I think she missed the sarcasm, because Ms. De Bourgh just kept talking, blissfully unaware.

“Life must be pretty good if you’re willing to turn down a job with career growth potential. Of course, I prefer getting out there and getting my hands dirty, but that wouldn’t
concern someone like you, who is content to sit at home and play with a camera and a computer and call it education.”

“But I don’t,” I said, unable to hold it back anymore. Charlotte’s hand squeezed my arm under the table. “I don’t ‘play’—I take it very
seriously. And considering that you have invested in a new media company like Collins & Collins, you seem to take it seriously, too.”

I managed to do something amazing. Ms. De Bourgh stopped talking and actually looked at me. As did everyone else in the room. Darcy stopped with his fork in midair, his eyes keenly on mine.

“I mean . . .” I continued, suddenly nervous. “Surely, for someone who appreciates hard work, you can see that creating content and cultivating an audience are hugely difficult
endeavors that are worthy of the time and effort it takes.”

“The advertising revenue is what makes it worthwhile—and quite honestly it’s the only thing the Internet is good for. Don’t you agree, William?”

Darcy, whose eyebrow had gone up while he stared freakishly at me, put his fork down. “The advertising is only as valuable as the audience watching—which responds to content
quality.”

Wow. Did Darcy just back me up in my argument?

But before I could so much as blink, Ms. De Bourgh blew out a breath of frustration. “Of course you’re right, William. You always make the best sense. Just like my darling Annie-kins
here. And of course like Caroline. When is that girl coming to visit again? You should bring her with you next time. Luckily, her work schedule is so flexible, such a complement to your rigid
one.”

As Ms. De Bourgh kept extolling the virtues of Caroline and matching her and Darcy’s accomplishments (I believe something was mentioned about how Darcy playing the trumpet in middle school
equaled Caroline having once sung for the Commander of NATO), Charlotte leaned over to me.

“Well done,” she whispered.

“What?” I replied, equally low.

“Keeping your cool with Catherine—I half expected you to hulk out.”

“I’m not going to hulk out in front of your boss, Char.”

“Really? Your fork says otherwise.”

I looked down. My fork was gripped in my hand pretty tight. And now bent slightly. Oops.

“Liz? Oh, Liz!” Ms. De Bourgh called out. “I was just saying to William here that I hope your sisters are better prepared for life than you are.”

“I believe we are all as prepared as we can be,” I spoke with assurance. Hey, I can balance my checkbook, which according to Bing is important. And Jane is managing fine. And Lydia .
. . well, two out of three ain’t bad.

“Really?” Her eyebrow went up—very like her nephew’s. “I certainly hope you can cook. Meals of culinary excellence like this one will be few and far between for
those pursuing starving artist status.”

“I can heat a can of soup as well as the next person.” Mom never got very far with me in the kitchen.

“Hmmm . . . Do you paint?”

“No.”

“Fence?”

“No.”

“Tell me, what is your opinion of the Monroe Doctrine?”

Believe it or not, it only got more farcical from there. I have no idea why Ms. De Bourgh was so keen on needling into my life and pointing out everything wrong with it. However, on those
occasions when she was not feeding her dog caviar or gushing to Darcy about his self-importance, I noticed that she kept glancing toward Charlotte. I can only assume that she was trying to
ascertain that her newest hire in a position of extreme responsibility did not consort with rabble? That she wanted to make sure Charlotte’s friends were worthy of her? Or maybe she was
comparing and contrasting Char and me in her own head and coming to the conclusion that Ricky had made the correct decision in hiring her—a conclusion I myself had come to a while ago.

It was just so bizarre that by the time we were on the ride home, I had to restrain myself from laughing—something I couldn’t do in front of Ricky Collins, of course. He just kept
going on and on about how fortunate it was to finally meet the revered Mr. Darcy, and how he hoped to entice him into a visit to the offices. Charlotte hummed nicely and made notes in her calendar,
while also gently reminding Ricky to not tell Darcy about my videos.

“He would certainly be embarrassed. And we don’t want to embarrass anyone as important as Ms. De Bourgh’s nephew, would we?”

Got to love my bestie. Always thinking of the save.

If I were at home, I would have reenacted the entire thing for Jane. . . . Although Jane isn’t at home, a fact that keeps fleeing my mind, and when I remember it, I get this small hollow
feeling in my chest. I hope she’s doing well in LA. She’s sent me a care package already, and she seems to be really loving her job, but there’s a pitch in her voice that tells me
something is missing.

But, if I were to talk to Jane now, she would tell me to be nice. And that’s exactly what I intend to do. I came here with the objective to see things more from Charlotte’s
perspective. And there’s no reason to not extend that to Ricky Collins. Char seems to manage him pretty well, and while he can be annoying, he’s never mean. He just tends to walk in
without knocking and talk way too much.

And as for Catherine De Bourgh, she can’t be that bad, either. After all, she . . . loves her dog?

However, I doubt I can extend my new open-perspective philosophy to Darcy. His defense of my (correct) argument aside, he was exactly the same tonight as he had been before: rude, standoffish,
and probably thinking about what a trial it was to be forced to dine with such plebeians. So, yeah, that’s a bridge too far. Luckily, he’s just passing through. No reason to think
I’ll be forced into his company again.

I really should just never end my diary entry on phrases like, “I’m certain to ace that exam tomorrow!” or “Let’s just keep driving over this
cliff—we’re bound to land on the other side!” or “Oh, I’m sure I’ll never see him again!” It just doesn’t go well for me.

A full week after the Shock and Awe of seeing Darcy at Catherine De Bourgh’s dining table, and I hadn’t given him another thought as I went about my life. Shadowing Collins &
Collins is going really well—I get to be involved in (or at least watch) all aspects of production, from writing to filming to editing, not to mention endless meetings about corporate
outreach, how to create buzz, selling their “Better Living” videos to clients who want them, and then selling advertising on their own productions, like “Game of Gourds.” No
wonder Charlotte works eighty hours a week, and no wonder we were spending another Sunday at the offices.

Well, at least
I
was. Charlotte and Ricky had a brunch with Ms. De Bourgh, where she was trying to foist a consultant on them (because Ms. De Bourgh is suddenly worried about
Charlotte’s lack of corporate experience). And apparently she succeeded, because Charlotte came back with said consultant. She was adamant that I meet him.

Who’s him, you may ask?

Who do you think?

Go on, I’ll give you one guess.

“Lizzie,” Darcy said upon my entry to the conference room.

“Darcy.” I tried to mask my annoyance with pleasant disinterest. “You’re the consultant?”

“Yes. My aunt asked me to run through Collins & Collins’s numbers, to make sure that everything is progressing as it should.”

Right. Progressing as it should. Meaning, making sure that Charlotte’s lack of business experience was not a drawback to a company whose CEO has all the qualifications of an
Internet-generated list of corporate buzzwords. The bonus, presumably, is to torture me. But Charlotte, with her spine of steel, did not look worried. She instead looked ready to face down the
challenge.

“I’m certain you will find everything in great shape,” I said, smiling at Char.

“Yes.” He nodded. Then, “How is your family doing?”

Talk about a left-field question. Especially considering the entire room—consisting of several people—was watching us awkwardly shake hands. “They’re fine,” I
replied. Then, I decided to put him under the same scrutiny he was applying to me and Collins & Collins, by asking the questions I hadn’t been able (or had been too shocked) to ask last
week.

“I mentioned at dinner the other night that Jane recently moved to LA. For work. You were in LA for a while, weren’t you? Did you happen to see her?”

And I was rewarded by watching him squirm.

“No,” Darcy replied. “Los Angeles covers a large area. I, uh . . . I did not see your sister.”

“That’s enough small talk; now let’s get to the real reason you’re here!” said the smiling, afro’d guy behind Darcy bouncing on the balls of his classic
Adidas shell tops. “And that’s to meet me. Hi—Fitz Williams.”

He held out his hand. And when I took it he pulled me in for a hug.

“I am Darcy’s better half and business partner in a few of his half dozen companies. And I have heard plenty about you, Lizzie Bennet.”

“You have?” I froze, my eyes shooting to Darcy. He looked at his shoes. “That can’t be good.”

“Or, it could be great. You have no idea, and you’ll just have to keep guessing, Lizzie B! Now, tell me all about yourself. Start from birth.”

“Well, I was born in California . . .” I began, laughing, but then Darcy cleared his throat.

“I’m already riveted,” Fitz said, taking his cue. “But we’re gonna have to save it for dinner. You, me, my boyfriend Brandon, who is already going to love you
because he has a thing for redheads. You in?”

How could I not be in?

If I’m forced to endure Darcy while I’m here, at least he comes with a side of Fitz. A cheerful, engaging guy with manners and charm. How is it possible Fitz is friends with Darcy?
Then again, I find anyone being friends with Darcy inexplicable.

It’s an interesting thing, shadowing a company that has recently been placed under the supervision of a consultant. Because basically, he’s shadowing the company,
too.

Which means that every photo shoot, every filming, every meeting, every editing session that I am observing, Darcy is observing as well.

He’s everywhere. I can’t escape him. If I try to arrive early to a meeting, he’ll be loitering in the hall outside, insanely punctual and pleased to “escort me in.”
If I try to arrive at the last minute, he’ll have held the meeting from starting so I could be shamed for my tardiness as I try to slip in unnoticed.

This has had the odd effect of making me very aware of Darcy, whether he’s there or not. It’s like my brain goes on high alert every time I’m in the Collins & Collins
offices. Is he here? No? Then where is he? Knowing is the only way to avoid him!

This is normally where I would say thank God for Charlotte, but having Darcy here means she’s now working 160 hours a week just to make sure everything is too perfect to possibly find
fault with, so instead, I’m going to say thank God for Fitz. Fitz makes everything fun. You name it—meetings about show development, the interminable process of editing a “Better
Living” video—if Fitz is there, it’s already 1,000 percent better.

Heck, he even made this week’s foray into Dining with De Bourgh (™ me, a couple of entries ago) enjoyable.

Well, tolerable at least.

I think I’m getting used to Catherine De Bourgh. She’s just someone who wants to exert her influence on the world and is used to doing so because she has money to invest. And since
she doesn’t have children, she overly involves herself in the lives of her nephew, his friend, and her weird ratty dog.

And her niece. Because this time around, the game was Compare Lizzie Bennet Unfavorably to Georgiana (Gigi) Darcy.

“How’s your sister Georgiana getting on?” Ms. De Bourgh asked Darcy, tacitly ignoring the rest of the table.

“Quite well. Actually, she’s now nationally ranked in tennis.”

“Splendid, splendid! You see, Liz, what dedication to an activity gets you? It’s too bad you gave up on tennis, although you likely don’t have the arm strength for it. You
know, William, it was so unfortunate when Georgiana gave up swimming.”

“It’s for the best,” Darcy said stiffly (more stiffly than normal, even). “She wished to focus her accomplishments.”

“Such a work ethic! Liz, you should take notes—you girls today are much too prone to time-wasting.”

Darcy slid a glance at me that could only be called sidelong before replying, “My sister certainly does not engage in time-wasting activities.”

Again, if Fitz hadn’t been there, making funny faces at me behind Ms. De Bourgh’s back and talking to me like an adult about the finer points of business plans versus grad papers, I
would have had a hard time keeping it together, even for Charlotte’s sake.